Whiney whiney BITCH PANTS

I'm really in a self pitying mood lately.

It's my upcoming birthday/ big news of if this cycle turned out well or not.  I think.

Or it could just be that I feel like throwing a temper tantrum single every day.

I'm scared that finding out the results of the pregnancy test will make me spiral down into a deeper sadness over the bad luck and unpleasantness that seems to follow me through out my life lately.

It's like no matter how hard I try, things SUCK and will continue SUCKING for... an indefinate amount of time.

I'm sorry that I'm being such a whiner but I have really had it.

This birthday (and year) was supposed to be the year of ME.

Now all special plans and mentions of magical fun times have been swallowed into my family's typical obsession  with all things depressing & sad.

My grandma being in hospital is the icing on the cake - we spent much of last year in hospitals & palliative care wards with my uncle.  Our family really needs a break.  We were going to take a cruise together (ALL of us, which has NEVER happened, and D has never even left our home province!) but... that's cancelled now. (Don't misconstrue this, I love my grandma and am so sad about the state of her health.  I don't want to abandon her in her time of need, and same goes for my Dad (it's his mother).  I guess I'm just being selfish when I say "when will it be time for GOOD TIMES???" 

Seems like the last several years have just been full of shit.

But, the thing that's making me the MOST upset is that my parents signed me up for that presentation (about a Slovak writer who was deeply affected by the loss of his family through the Holocaust) that I've been complaining on twitter about for weeks.  They didn't even really ask me.  And it's going to take up most of my birthday weekend, and prevents me & D from being able to go anywhere. And it's such a depressing topic to make matters even worse.   Every play or poetry reading that my parents are involved in is always about death.  Talk about morbid!

My birthdays in the last 10 years have been full of tears, lonlieness & aggravation.  I was really hoping that for my dirty 30 things would be better. 

Doesn't look like it.

I'm still trying to hold out a bit of hope for a BFP but the bigger part of me is telling my hopeful part to not get too excited.

I'm just not a fairy tale ending kind of girl.

Finding my Happy

Yesterday  I was 'msn'ing' with an old friend. She knows D very well, in fact I know her through him & she also is beginning to know me very well as she has decided to embark on the adventure that one undertakes when becoming my follower on twitter.  She thus has pretty good insight on what's happening in my life, because I'm an open book & she knows the other chapter of my story quite well ;)

She said, very wisely, that my tweets have begun to indicate a fair amount of despair & depression. And that despite the fact that I frequently vent about relationship drama between me & my love, the darkness is most likely coming from the void that I feel OUTSIDE of my relationship.

It's true.  I try to stay positive, hopeful, optimistic, & happy & all that jazz but there's a monster lurking too close to the surface for my comfort.  And try as he might, D can not do anything about it.  This fact alone brings out a not -so-nice aspect of our relationship... him trying, me rejecting him & him then being cold & aggressive because... well, basically I'm being a bitch too.

As a veteran of therapy, both group & individual, I can tell the signs of depression.  I see that I'm in trouble.  I see that I need help.  I see that lack of luster in myself, my reluctance to get out of bed in the mornings is getting stronger... but I just am kinda of the mind set that I want to try & use my self-taught skills (and call on some of the skills that I've learned in Dialectical Behaviour Therapy - if you're interested in hearing more about this please leave a comment & I will blog about it next!) in conjunction with my newly found twitter support system rather than running back to therapy, or worse still, medication.

What my wise friend suggested was that I make a list. A list of things OUTSIDE my relationship that make me jump for joy. Things that tickle my thoughts.  Things that stimulate my senses. 
I have been happy before, I do experience happiness still & thus, there must be circumstances, things, people, situations, etc. that still make me happy.

So here,  blogles & tweeties, are (some of) my happys!

(I'm gonna be random, start with small things and maybe things that people will find strange... but it's all part of the process! I need to once more learn to take joy in the little pleasures of life!)

~ my cats (duh)
~ Ani Difranco (duh - I said I was starting with the easy things!)
~ composing & recording music.   (need to find a good software for this! SUGGESTIONS? I've used sequel 2, cakewalk & fruityloops, but never understood what I was doing.. need something user friendly! read:dummy-fied) 
~ guitar (need to become more consistent with playing so I don't have to go through the pain of re-developing calluses every single time! what a turn off!) 
~ photography & digitally editing photos
~ reading with tea & kush at Roach-a-rama in Kensington Market (requires me to leave the house & take the transit to go downtown... not that likely at the moment... but still a happy)
~ yoga (need to find some bum-knee friendly yoga - suggestions anyone??)
~ swimming (need to find a public pool nearby for swimming 3x/ week)
~ shopping for fruits & veggies & spices & nuts (productive to my diet too!)
~ shopping in general (though this can get dangerous!)
~ cooking & baking
~ knitting
~ PAINTING (really MISS this one!)
~ mani/pedi
~ bath & wine time (not sure I can swing this in my current apartment... our bathtub SUCKS)
~ journalling/blogging :)

And I think that's all for now! That's actually a pretty good list, if I don't say so myself (which I do!) All of the things on there are things that I enjoyed doing pre-D and kinda stopped doing due to various factors in my current situation... none of which are written in stone, and all of which I can change.
So now, the task at hand is to DO SOMETHING and actually make this list go to good use.  That's the hardest part of it all, 'cuz if you've followed my blog at all, you'll know I"m great at making lists & plans & not so great at the actual execution of things. But here's another shot...

To my Wise friend (one in specific but also, to all my wise friends who are reading!)  please remember, we need to kick each others asses into gear, for who else is in a better position to push you to succeed in finding your happy but your friends?  <3

Adopted

 I've been thinking about adoption a lot.

Maybe it's because I've been watching that show "16 and Pregnant" during my "breaks" from work. The show has got me doing a lot of thinking in of itself, and a lot of it has to do with the one girl who decided to give her baby girl up for adoption.

That young woman was my birth mother 29 and some odd years ago.
She had to debate, with my birth father, whether or not they felt that they could raise me.
They had to ponder on what kind of life they would give me if they kept me.
They weren't 16, but they were young, and they had their vision of their futures.  It did not involve parenting.

I have always known that I was adopted.
For as long as I can remember I knew the story by heart - how my mom had been pregnant with a baby boy and had an ectopic pregnancy resulting in an emergency hysterectomy.  I knew the story about the waiting, the agony of being 'examined' to see if they were 'worthy' enough of being parents.

It's horrible what they make people go through - every time I think of it I recall a tweetie who once tweeted (or blogged, and I'm quoting VERY loosely so if it's YOU then I'm sorry if I get it wrong!!) "All I need to do to get preggo is buy a 6 pack, start smoking crack, and have sex in the back seat of a car."  It sure seems like people far far FAAARR less worthy of being parents are given the gift of a child on an all too frequent basis.   But I am digressing.  This is for another post.

The fact that I have always known that I am adopted has made much of my life a series of questions. Up until recently, only CLOSED adoptions were permitted in Ontario.  This meant that I know nothing about my birth parents, where they came from, or how they lived. I've always wondered, who am I "supposed" to be?  I have always had these 'urges'.  I've always been drawn to a life far from the one I'm living, intrigued by different lifestyles (often ones which seem to make my parents cringe).  Where do these urges come from?
More recently, as I'm getting older I'm starting to also really want to know what I'll look like 5, 10, 15 years from now.  I have no way of knowing.

What little I do know sparks my curiosity even more.   When I read the disclosure from the Children's Aid Social Worker who was in charge of the adoption all those years ago, I get shivers down my spine reading the many similarities between myself and these two youngsters, my birth parents (I'm now about 8 years older than they were when they had me).

It is not easy to find people in Toronto, despite the fact that I now know the name of my birth mother and where she was born, and where she lived when I was born. 
Especially people who may not want to be found.  And I am scared to find out that she doesn't want to be found, so thus far I am just sitting on the information I have, holding it close, but not too close.

It seems like I do that with a lot of things - hold them close, but not too close.  My animals are an exception to that.  But with people I have a hard time (as you know if you follow my tweets.)  I wonder how much of that has to do with my adoption. I wonder how much of my inherent loneliness comes from my adoption.  I wonder if I cling to the wrong people sometimes because I still have unconscious (and sometimes conscious) feelings of abandonment.

Despite the fact that I have loving parents and family, I had plenty of everything growing up, I got a top notch education, and  I always had all the necessities I needed, I still wonder.

I don't want to come across here as being anti-adoption.  I am far from that.  I think that adoption is a wonderful way of making sure that children are loved and cared for, which in my option should be the #1 priority in our world. I just really feel that children need to know where they come from, and what their genetic story is.

Lets face it, there are just certain things that there is no escaping from, and genetic make up is one of those things.  I have never been able to answer the question "Is there any heart disease, cancer, diabetes (etc etc) in your family?" I would really like to be able to one day.

I would like to know my story - my WHOLE story, not just the details that my Mom remembers of after I was born, but all the details, of my heritage, my history.

I feel as if I live my life as a series of unanswered possibilities.
If I knew that my birth parents were doctors, for instance, would that have made me more motivated to stay in University and pursue a more demanding (and respectable) career? Was it the fact that I knew that my birth mother got pregnant at a young age that made me feel like I should be sexually mature and experience before my time? Did those feelings lead me down certain destructive paths I have taken in my life?

As I mentioned before, I've always felt a pull towards a lifestyle vastly different from the one I was raised in. Perhaps if I knew what kind of lifestyle my birth parents lived I would not feel so estranged .Maybe I'd relax, knowing that I'm not doing anything 'wrong' but just living differently than my Mom & Dad would have preferred. Maybe if I knew that my birth parents lead a similar life to mine I would not feel so guilty for having disobeyed my Mom & Dad.

Maybe I'd feel my destiny for a change.

So many questions, so many curiosities.  I'm not sure what I will do with them, but for now they remain floating in my head, waiting for the right moment to reveal itself.

I love my Mom & Dad, so that right moment may never actually arrive due to the pain that I feel it may cause them.  I'm not sure that they will ever understand my need to find out where I come from.  I don't blame them- they did an amazing job raising and taking care of me and it must feel a like abandonment to them when they think about my curiosity.

But all the same, that curiosity is growing daily.  Especially when I am faced with judgments from my family about how I live my life. And when I am faced with feeling alone, lonely, different.  I have never really felt comfortable being entirely 'myself' around my parents, or my extended family.  There has always been a filter to protect them from my cussing, my rage, my insecurities, my doubts, my wildness, my occasional vulgarity, my inner party girl.   I wonder whether or not that filter would be there if they were my birth parents. 

The notion of unconditional love also makes me ponder.  There have been countless ups and downs in the small unit of our family, and my Mom & Dad have professed unconditional love throughout them all.  But yet, despite their claims, I feel that I am somehow substandard, not achieving enough, not quite the package that they were hoping for 29+ years ago when they were awarded the greatest gift of their lives. 

I'm not sure what I had hoped to achieve by writing this post.  There isn't a definite point here.  I feel it's important to share the views of an adult adoptee (of a closed adoption).

So many wonderful ladies who I have met through my own battle with infertility have begun their adoption journey.  Some have been struggling through their journey for far too long already. I hope that I haven't stepped on any feelings with this post, and again I'll re-iterate that I am certainly NOT anti-adoption.  I just wanted to open up a discussion between us all because I have faith that every last one of you amazing women hoping to adopt will one day hold a baby in your arms.  And that baby may one day grow up to have the curiosities and questions that I have.  I feel it's important for those curiosities and questions to be explored together, and maybe this discussion can help prepare for that day.

My life on this blog has always been an open book to you all, I hope that my honesty and openness about this slightly touchy subject is not in any way hurtful or painful for any of you, my dear readers.  Please join in on my discussion of adoption, whether it be from the point of view of an adopted person, or an adoptive parent. 

blargh.

Prepare yourselves.
I'm angry.
I'm sad.
I feel guilty about both of the above.
I'm not sure where the guilt is coming from - story of my life.

This post may be a doozy.

I haven't blogged in a week.  Yesterday was a week since Sessie had to be put down. I have been moping through, trying to be 'normal' ever since.

I even went on a mini-camping trip this weekend, which turned into more of a booze fest/stay up all night like teenagers trip.  Not exactly what the doctor ordered for me.   Not saying it wasn't fun, but now I gotta add recovering from a party weekend to the list of other stuff going on in my mixed up head.

I miss Sess terribly every day. Every time something in my life went wrong she was such a strong support to me.  She was always there through my workdays which more often than not are incredibly frustrating, boring & upsetting. I miss her little voice. She'd so often wake up from a cat nap and say "prrrow?" really softly from her spot on the armrest of the couch right beside where I do most of my work.  I really miss that.  It reminded me to breath sometimes when things are work are just too overwhelming. And I miss having her as a reminder of my life before D.  I feel like I've all but lost the woman I was before. She was the last concrete link.

I have been withdrawing (other than on Saturday night when I was quite outgoing in my smirnoff ice induced mood).  My tweeties may or may not have noticed that I'm kinda quiet. (For a change...) I don't know what to say!  Everything that comes out of my mouth feels like a complaint, and since I know so many people on Twitter who are going through such hard times I would rather be a supporter than a complainer. 

But I don't really know how at the moment.  Nothing feels good.  Everything feels faked, forced, frusterating.  And my fuse is extremely short.  EXTREMELY.  Like.. maybe non-existent.  Don't light a match around me. I'll blow.

Today when D got back from work we were short with each other.  And now he's gone out for the evening leaving me to stew.  This is a very bad bad thing. I don't stew well.

I've been trying to throw myself into work but it's frustrating knowing that I have no financial control or freedom, despite my immense responsibility to this company. I am resentful. This makes me not want to work, but the thought of having free time to think is terrifying me.

All in all - I'm pretty toxic at the moment. 
And in an effort to not toxify you, my dear readers, I will say goodbye now and hope that the next time I write I'll be a little (or a lot!! Fingers crossed!) aggravated.

Spinning, whilrling, unfocused &foggy

I've been struggling in the last few days. I have a million posts in mind and can't seem to focus long enough to write them.

If you follow me on Twitter and read my blog regularly, you'll know that I tend to have these "waves" of dark&light days in my life.

Despite the fact that I'm embarking on a new & important journey in my life (vegan-ish lifestyle changes being implemented daily- which will be in a post coming up as soon as I can shake the fog) I'm faltering.

Failing to find within myself the drive to strive forward and find the success I know I can find if I really put my mind to it.

I have several (more obvious) obstacles.

1. Every time I find myself optimistic or hopeful about something, I inevitably seek support and encouragement from others and usually get shut down (Referring to my non-Twitter friends/family)
Really, my own excitement and cheer-leading should be enough for me and I hope one day soon to not seek so much outside approval.

2. Other people's negativity is completely contagious. It's like I'm a sponge and their negative fluids fill me and sink me. I hope that one day soon my positivity can outshine the darkness I see in people around me.

3. My physical ailments make me depressed. My brain knows that 'motion is lotion' as my mom preached to me through out my life. Meaning, I know that shedding some pounds and getting off my ass would help my conditions a lot. It's just that my body won't listen to my brain most of the time. It's not even that I'm lazy. It just hurts too damn much most of the time. And I'm a big wimp. When I do feel go however, just TRY to stop me.

And because of those things I haven't been feeling great in the last day or two (post-appointment on Monday I felt great but that feeling deflated rather quickly once faced with the reality of what it really means to change one's lifestyle)

That, added to the nasty comment I got is making for an icky stomach pit. Despite my best efforts I seem to be having a hard time getting over it. I have had dreams on both Sunday and Monday nights about the miscarriage comment. Hate to admit when I'm shaken but I sure am now. It's taking some real effort for me to keep my heart on my sleeve and doors to my mind wide open.

But I made a vow when I started this blog. I think it's important for there to be a sense of utter and complete honesty here in order for me to effectively reach out.

I also want to express how THANKFUL and GRATEFUL I am to the ladies who stood behind my retort to the anonymous chicken(head) commenter.

I've said it before and I'll say it again- I have found truer friends in you all than I have had in a very long time. Y'all are the reason I still have enough sanity to realize that I'll feel better if I blog it all out.



- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

BAHHHHH!!!

I don't know what's wrong with me.
I was so calm,
so level headed, so EFFECTIVE last night.
I started a conversation with D in the car that I've been meaning to have for MONTHS. 

And I did it well. I did myself proud. 
All the way through the evening. 

And I had some difficult things to say.  Namely:

1. His tone of voice is a total kill joy.  I get cranky just hearing that tone sometimes. It really sucks because it puts my mood instantly into pissy-ville and then things just escalate from there.

And at times it can be a total turn off.  The second part of that was the hardest to say because it involves our sex life, and it's really really really difficult for me to be completely honest with him about that aspect of our relationship. He's very sensitive and I struggle with how to talk to him about some of the issues I'm having. This feels so taboo even to write in my blog. But I vowed that when I started writing this I would be open, honest and totally exposed.  I've struggled with this notion in the last little while and am amending it slightly because of some tweets I've seen lately.  Am starting to feel a bit insecure about how open I am, but I don't want to lose that part of my blog so I'm making an effort here.  A big one.  But baby steps.... more about this in another post.

and...

2. He is a horrible boss. Let me explain.
I am so afraid of the spring in a sense.  I know my tweets often express a desperate need for spring to return and work to start again.  I was really looking forward to this spring in particular though because we were planning on having me not work for him anymore.  But those plans are quickly unraveling before my eyes, so now I'm kind of afraid of spring because he's such a bad boss. He's rude, ignorant, places blame without hearing both sides, and he's completely ungrateful. I've had some bad bosses, but at least I didn't have to sleep with them!!! We've been driving each other crazy this winter being together 24/7 but if I have to work for him again this spring I don't know if we'll survive the season and still love each other.  This scares the shit out of me because as you saw in my Utopia Rules post from last night, we really have a vision together for our future. I don't know what I'd do without that plan.


But despite how difficult and touchy the subjects were, I did well, WE did well... went off without a hitch (and actually resulted in a little bit of BD, which has been really sporadic and infrequent lately! Ya ya!) 

And then... this morning.   I seriously don't know what's wrong with me, I'm up and down all over the place lately.  All he did was say he had a head ache.  I was about to wake and vape cuz my fibro is still bitching and he said he couldn't (well, he was kinda nasty about it I guess, in retrospect...but still, didn't warrant my reaction and my cold shoulder which he fully told me really really bothered him last night) and now he's at his mom's house and I'm feeling shitty cuz I really just want things to be good.

I'm a cranky, always-sick bitchy wifey and I'm pretty tired of it.  The only places my positivity and kindness seems to shine through is online and sometimes sometimes with our friends, or my family. Never with him anymore.

OK. Pity party over.... when he comes home I'm going to make a real effort to be sweet and see what happens.

Input is always welcome (especially on my touchy topics like this).  I believe that our community of women is a powerful source of support and it makes me feel not so alone, as I've said so many times in the past.

Please 'scuse my MIA status....

I thought I would take some time on this sunny Monday morning to explain my MIA status on Twitter lately. And my sporadic blog postings. I really do like to make an effort to write every day, but I've been just swamped.   I don't know if it's intentional ( as in, did I intentionally overpack my life so as to run away from the darkness I experienced recently? I don't know) however, my schedule has been insane lately.

Many of you know that I run a home-operated company with D, and that during the winter, our off-season, we are really not that busy.   But in the last week I have felt like we're in mid-November, our highest peak, and running full force - only, making no money at it.   We've been gathering our resources, talking to people, searching our files for letters, receipts, PROOF!  that we don't owe the $5000 that we're being sued for.

So that has been fun.
HAHAHAHA.
Yah.

And we've also become a professional moving team.  Since Wednesday we've been up at my parents house moving furniture around, bringing stuff home (my living room now looks like a memorabilia hall of fame)  On Thursday we packed up and moved, and then unpacked and assembled/put away what was left in my Uncle's condo so that my parents could rent it out.  There was a lot more stuff there than I thought there would be so we had to go back on Friday to finish up......

Then, Saturday was my birthday.... didn't really do much actually.  Got my hair done - I know, I promised pics but it's sticking straight up on end at this moment 'cuz she put product in it (something I never ever do) and I just woke up. But I will show ya a pic of the fab stuff I got. (and the link for the book which is BEAUTIFUL)

And Sunday I did my usual trip to the hospital at noon, and then we went out with my family (including my cousin whom I have never met who flew in from Israel on Sunday morning!Though it's a sad & depressing reason for a visit, I am so glad to be finally meeting her.  She was like a sister to my Mom growing up.)

So, needless to re-iterate, I've been running around like a chicken with it's head cut off, and I think I'm paying for it a bit now.  My health (and therefore energy level/endurance abilities) are SUPER diminished.... I think I'm going to have to lay real low today.  But that's good 'cuz hopefully I can catch up on what you all have been doing and writing about in the last few days!  Remember.....


OH YAH! and PS...

Thanks to everyone who voted for the songs! I Love You took the lead. with 61% preferring it to Caution.   Now - the question is.... since I have no money currently to go to a studio to record it... shall I keep the polls open?

Please comment - hearing from you makes me happy!

Light shining through!

So....the (not so) infamous "so crazy that she's sane" NaVe left the vicinity of my physical persona on Sunday.

She departed suddenly and without {?} provocation, leaving a shell, an empty hollow vessel of skin, a lump sitting on the couch being angry.

I could discuss the things that led up to her departure, but I feel that would be counterproductive, so instead I'll just tell you how it felt {feels}.  And how I got her back.

You have undoubtedly read my poetry entries (of course you have! No one misses a post - right?) and thus are acutely aware of the fact that my creativity is heightened during these happiness droughts in my life.  I'm  not sure why it is - I guess being melancholy is a catalyst to my creative juices.  It's almost like I can't speak "normally" during these times.  I become totally introverted in person, and my tongue doesn't work to say anything that isn't poetic.  I don't want to  speak, I only want write during these times - hence my twitter absence and {sporadic} poetic  posts.

It's as if my mind exists, for a time, only to create - not to live, eat, shit, drink, sleep, laugh, cry - or any of the things I "normally" do.

I also get really really angry when someone tries to pull me out of my darkness before I'm ready.   So, naturally, D got the short end of the stick quite a few times over the last few days.  He doesn't understand my inability to shed the dark at my whim.  And that makes me livid.  And when I'm livid I start doing things that I don't mean to do - like call my parents and tell them that I'm leaving him (which is a HUGE no no, 'cuz they remember EVERYTHING and hold grudges against anyone who makes me cry - even if the person is not really the one making me cry, but instead it's my own frustration seeping out).  Or delete my twitter account, blogpress and any other social networking media from my cell phone to "prove a point" (not sure what point I was trying to prove there, I just made myself more mad)

And it got even uglier.  But I digress. 


So - how did I get her back?  How am I making the return to my normal, slightly quirky, but pretty optimistic self?

Well, I wrote.  I wrote and wrote and wrote.  I haven't written this much in years - and it felt GREAT!  And I have my twitter ladies (and a few gents) and blog readers to thank for that.

In the last few years I have recoiled from my creativity - falling victim to the constant down-pressing of certain people telling me my aspirations are "hoop dreams".   Now, after getting positive feedback and lovin' from my twitterverse and blogisphere - I'm back.  And with a vengeance!

So, my mission is to sort through some of the jumbled mess of words, find the gems, hopefully write some new music, and put these angry/frustrated/insightful few days of lyricism to good creative use.

Be on the look out - more poetry to come!  The songs will most likely take a while longer, but I'm working on a few beauts ;)

One last thing - THANKYOUTHANKYOUTHANKYOUTHANKYOUTHANKYOU....


I am so pleased that this bout of darkness only lasted 4 days.

And it's LARGELY because of all of YOU!!!

ps.  Dontcha just love that pic?  I took that in 2008 on our yearly migration to the Bruce Peninsula, Ontario for a Pow Wow at the Cape Croker Indian Park.   We have a blast - every year!  Well - last year was quite buggy - but that's a whole other post! :P

Dark

 

Subdued cries of My frustrated mind
Echo beneath the layers of indiscretion
I have been neglecting
Ignoring
Depleting
Myself, my health, my life

Heaped under the carpet where I swept it
Stress festers, untended, growing
Into something I can't name
Can't claim
Can't tame

Exerted, my mind wanders alone
Into familiar but unsympathetic territory
Unarmed
Uncharmed

Unprepared
For the wholeness of the dark

Quick Rant...

My Twitter followers already know I had a rough morning today.

I am now in bed encased in duvets and as many heat bags as I can stand trying to recover from it.  I'll recap it briefly for those of you who are curious...

I've been in a bad fibro flare since Sunday, and so even though I normally take the subway when I have to go downtown for doctor's appointments, this time D was supposed to drive me.  This was the appointment for the doctor that my Fertility Doctor reffered me to back in November, for some emotional/mental health support for women who just found out about their infertility and were having trouble coping.
I had a really bad case of depression at the time, brought on by the Clomid I think.

But anyways, this morning I kinda had a bad feeling about it 'cuz the appointment was 'early' (9am, so we had to get up at 7am to be there on time with traffic, parking and what not).   Generally speaking when I need to be somewhere early and D has to drive me there is always some attitude and negativity when we're leaving the house.  (Not something I really like to talk openly about because it makes me question stuff that I'm not ready to question.... maybe in a future post. I don't know. )

This morning was no different.  But I had a shorter fuse than usual because of the intense pain in my back and legs, so instead of putting up with his loudness and ignorance I left alone.  The last straw was when he tried to tell me to CANCEL an appointment that I have been waiting for since November, just because he didn't want to get up and thought I was too sore to go on my own on the subway.

Well, I showed him!

And kinda showed myself too. Cuz I even though I fainted on the subway half way there,  and got to the appointment 1/2 hour late I did it, I didn't give up when he discouraged me, and the appointment went well.

*sidenote* the people in Toronto really really suck! (excluding the wonderful one's I've met on Twitter who may or may not be reading this post)... but, yeah, the people in Toronto are ASSHOLES!  I was at a busy subway station (Yonge & Eglinton) when I fainted, and sat on the floor crying for 20 minutes after I came too ( I wasn't out long)  and NOT ONE PERSON INCLUDING THE 2 TTC (Toronto Transit Commision) WORKERS CAME TO SEE IF I WAS OK OR NEEDED HELP GETTING UP.  Not one person. *

Ahem. Back to the point. 

The doctor seems AWESOME, very understanding,  and I'm really looking forward to the next appointment on March 5th.   I scheduled that one for the afternoon so that in case I'm not well enough to take the subway it won't be so dramatic to get D to drive me.

It really sucks that he acts this way, but ultimately I think this new therapy and the new doctor will be able to help me deal with not only my infertility issues, but also some of these kinds of problems that D and I have in our relationship. 


Please comment - hearing from you makes me happy!

I'M ANGRY!!! please love me.... NOW LEAVE ME ALONE!

I've been having a bit of a mood crisis in the last couple of days.

It's not something new, it's a demon I've been living with for pretty much my whole life.  It appears, it disappears, it appears, it disappears - it's starting to seem like my own misery gets sick of me and goes for a vacation from time to time.

This time, this crisis of mood  is coming at inopportune timing.   Generally when this feeling creeps in and starts to take over my (attempt at a) zen-ish brain I immediately start doing stuff.
Stuff to distract me from the growing unease, the unexplained anger, the darkness.
New stuff - signing up for classes at the local college, joining a new gym or class at the old  gym, trying to meet new musical com-padres to collaborate with on my vocal ventures and experiments...

This time I'm having issues doing those things.  Any of them - all of them.  None of them are getting me anywhere because I am simply too achy or down in the dumps and thus lacking the motivation required for diving into something new.

And thus I'm here, talking to you, my tweeps and blogles, whining in a most unbecoming way, which is starting to seem like an (unattractive) habit.

In a blatant attempt to try and make my misery (anger?) seem more interesting, something that someone would want to read about, and also to try to identify with someone other than a past version of myself, I am once again reaching out to Ani for inspiration, comfort and a l'il bit of good ol' venting.



And there, in an angry outburst of carefully planned melodies and words, is how I feel.

Pretty much to a 't'.

So now, the question that I'm mulling on, and now throwing out into the universe...

How do I switch it off? If I'm too physically stuck(sick?) to be able to vacate the area  (and generally by vacating I am thus shoving my negative feelings and emotional baggage under the carpet in my living room)...what am I to do?
Has anyone else been in this kind of predicament?  

Insight will be greatly appreciated, and good insight will be revered.

FINALLY! Some forward movement!

The calls came in!
At long last!
I have a plan!




Sorry for the exclamations but I'm so excited. This could mean a lot of new things for me (and D... us!)  As many of you know I was less than pleased with the way things were going at my fertility clinic.  I felt like a piece of meat - handled indelicately and poked and prodded at will. I barely saw my doctor, other than when she did my laproscopy, the results of which were discussed with me only moments after waking up and then never again. Not to mention the distinct impression that I was being treated as if I was a hypochondriac with every question I asked.

BUT, I'm not going to delve too far into complaining about her though because I'm hoping that today's news means I don't have to go back there ever again.

 The first appointment that I was expected was actually a referral made by above mentioned fertility doctor.  I have been waiting since November for it.  I was pretty much in crisis mode when the referal was made, and now I'm not really in that place anymore, which is making me a bit nervous for the appointment.  It's for counseling services for infertiles provided by a Woman Centered Hospital. Sounds great right? I'm hoping it will pan out to be great.  I'm not in crisis anymore but as it was very Clomid related I'm hoping that if I put a safety net into action now  then I won't have to find myself in that dark hole again. ( I went into a deep dark depression, remnants of which are still visible in my earlier blogs) That appointment is on February 24th at 9am.

The second appointment was the referral that the gyno that I saw a couple of weeks ago.  I am VERY excited for this one! It is a doctor who specializes in Endometriosis and PCOS and he has scheduled off 50 min for me!  I don't think I have spoken with my fertility doctor for 50 min. in TOTAL counting all the times I have been to that clinic! So I am pretty stoked for that one - hoping to get some answers finally! Let's get the ball rolling! That appointment is on March 15th at 10am.

So I'm excited! It's going to be good! Things will get going again, and I can have my baby-focus back :D



Please comment - hearing from you makes me happy!

YAY! PRIZES :)

This is a bit belated... OK A LOT.  But hey - I had a good reason! Trying to use a laptop who's keys don't work makes typing not so fun.
But I'm going to catch up now, I promise.

First order of business?  Accepting my blog award from Roxy! 
Until now I  didn't even know there was such thing - but I'm thrilled & honoured to receive it!  Roxy is an amazing woman - so supportive and caring! Thank you for being a friend!

So... I'm told this is how it works:

• Thank the person who nominated you for this award. - check!
  
• Copy the award and place it in your blog. - check!
  
• Link the person who nominated you for this award. - HEY! didn't know how to do this before either! learning so much stuff tonight! check!
• Tell us 7 interesting things about you. - below...
  
• Nominate 7 bloggers.
• Post the links to the 7 bloggers you nominate. - um... .below!

I nominate: (in no particular order) - Don't mind the twitter names.
I am a lover of anonymity :p

1. TTC_Queen
2. Fertilitychick
3. Ahmymarriedlife
4. exceptformonday
5. iwillbeatpcos
6. thehoneyb
7. PCOSChick

And Now... 7 interesting (?) things about me....

1. I am a musician of sorts - mainly a singer at this point (as you know, and SHOULD VOTE FOR YOUR FAVOURITE NAVE SONG!) but I started off on the piano - got up to grade 8 and then switched to Viola.   I played the viola all though high school and into university, but gave it up (though I still regret totally giving it up, and still own my instrument so I'll probably go back sometime soon).  My real desire was to play the cello but my high school music teacher told me my hands were too small - I kinda proved her wrong though, in my final year of high school I taught myself to play. Couldn't afford to buy an instrument though :( I also taught myself to play the guitar - but that's purely for fun - I pretty much suck, but I enjoy it so I figure it doesn't matter.

2. I am trained as an interior decorator, but work as a receptionist DH & my home maintenance company (his father started it and left it to him, so I had to quit my other book-keeping/reception job to help him run it), and I dream (DREAM!) of being a writer... Blogging is helping a bit with that dream.  At least I'm not getting rustier & mustier as days go by.

3. DH and I have a small zoo in our 2 bedroom apartment.   Here's a list of what we currently have (we have been considerably downsizing since starting our TTC journey...)
AHEM....
- 2 dogs (one rottie/sheppard, one rottie/sheppard/pit)
- 2 cats (one is a flame-point siamese, the other I call "sweetcat cutecaticus")
- 1 iguana
- 1 chinese water dragon
- 1 mali euromastyx
- 2 chinese fire-belly toads
- 170 gallon salt water fishtank (used to have over 100 species in it, but again, we're downscaling, so now theres 3 fish and a shrimp in it :p)

4. I have been diagnosed with 4 different mental illnesses.
I don't think I have any of them.

5. I can read very very fast - but that means that I don't always retain everything the first time round, so I wind up having to re-read things a lot.

6. I have lived in Toronto, Ontario (or subburbs of) my whole life.... but I am pretty much sick of it here and can't wait to move further North ( Fertility Chick - you live in my dream spot, pretty much :P)  I dream of big open spaces, trees, clean air, nicer people, slower pace.

7. I tend to do what I can to make sure I don't hurt anyone's feelings.  This means that my feelings tend to get hurt a lot, because of being uber-flexible.   But this is something I am trying to work on.  So if I become a bitch suddenly then ya'll know why :p

Ok - so I got more brief as I went on, but you are all welcome to post questions, comments, whatever your hearts desire. 
I am an open book :)

Who am I?

Things are pretty much back to normal now (thank goodness) so now I can get to some of the posts I have been scheming up in my head but was too scatter-brained to actually write down

Ok - so,  cliques.  Totally  high school right?   So how come, even though I am almost 30 years old, and starting to worry I may not be able to identify with my teenage children, when I finally have them... how come am I still dealing with it all now?!?!?!   I was always hoping that it would pass, as adolescence did, as did early university years, my early 20's and... my more innocent days.   But here it is - constantly and consistantly staring me in the face.

Mainly from out of  facebook's html frames.

I have expressed, in numerous tweets, how I will NEVER go on facebook, ever again. Even D reminded me about 15 min ago (as I hastily checked a fb email from a friend I knew back in elementary school, who tagged me in a pic of me when I was about 9 yrs old.  GREAT.) that I swore - NEVER AGAIN!  One too many pregnancy announcements, storybook weddings, fairytale vacations, and ab-so-fucking-lutely one to many of "those girls" on my list.   (for those twitter amigas and amigos who wanted to exchange facebook's with me - there you have it... the reason why I won't).

I went to a highly prestigious, very  competititve, all girls private school.  I started there in gr. 7 and did 5 years (fast-tracked and did 6 years in 5, which pretty much drove me to insanity!) And, as a result of being in  this environment during some of the more formative years of my life, my facebook is now filled with high acheiving, mostly quite wealthy, women - who all started IN EXACTLY THE SAME PLACE THAT I DID worked hard to get where they are.

Ok- so let me step back a moment and say - I really do believe that all my high school girlfriends worked extremely hard to get where they got.  And despite the fact that I have my moments of insane jealousy (which helps the muse fusing this particular post), I know that I too, if I had made different choices (some of them haven't really felt like choices) and basically, if I had led a different post-high school life, I too could have been in their shoes.  Or at least closer.  Some had a lot more advantages than I did - my parents had to work really hard to put me through that type of school - and they never let me forget it, nor did I have things handed to me.

But I worked god damn hard too. I had horrid jobs, I started from scratch, without help from my parents, or anyone really... and even when I was at my lowest points mentally&emotionally  I still supported myself and was never homeless or starving. Or into hard drugs.   It's not fair that  some of the choices I made due to my (now past) mental illness are now coming back to bite me in the ass every time I "login"....

I want to be able to travel to different destinations around the world every year (or every few months!)
(I have travelled quite a bit in my life, but not at all in the last 10 years)
I want to have beautiful pictures of family and friends dressed up to celebrate my wedding.
(I am really learning the "art and skill" involved in being a wife - which is why I call D my DH... but we are still just common-law husband & wife)
I want to have proud new mommy pictures and turn my fb page into an online shrine for my child (with the odd pic of me in the mix at some point)
(well.... we all know the lovely long infertiliy story that goes behind this one)

and so... longer story made shorter.... I am still not in the right "clique".
I'm not a mom.
I'm not a carefree spirit roaming the earth trying to find myself, or at the very least, make things better.
I'm not even techically a wife.

So who am I?

I'm not sure... but the woman whom I find when I finally figure that out, I'm sure that she'll be stronger for having asked these types of questions.
And I do try to help the earth in what measly ways I can - I recycle, when I do work as a decorator I try to use only eco-friendly products/manufacturers, I used to ride my bike everywhere (pre fibromyalgia & endometriosis)...and I plan to use cloth diapers when my TTC dream is finally realized...
So I'm not that bad, from what I do already know :p

Final thought?   Even in our darkest hours, there is a lesson learned.  No regret, no looking back, move forward and things will enivitably be as they should be*.

*a lesson I learned (but am still trying to LIVE) when I was in dialectical behavior therapy.   I used it as a mantra for a while.   It helped me.

The Calm after the storm...

Please pardon me if I'm depressing today.  The last few days have been excruciatingly difficult.  
If you are following me on Twitter you know that I had a relationship meltdown on Thursday night, and D left the house for a while.  Things are a bit better now but I'm still recovering.
Between the arguing, the quitting smoking (both of us @ the same time, and cold turkey), and with time off of infertility treatments (the only thing stable and positive that I was focused on before..... 
I feel like too many things in my life are just too negative.   

My uncle's situation in palliative care is going from bad to worse, and as bad as this sounds, there is no relief in sight for him or for us.   I miss having a normal family life - we haven't had any good times since last spring.

My health is going from bad to worse - probably because I'm so depressed and barely ever want to leave the house. 

If it wasn't for Twitter right now I would be totally and completely isolated.
Sounds so pathetic when I type it out.

I stopped talking to the only close girlfriend I had about 2 months ago because she was completely incapable of comforting me, but expected me to consistantly come to her rescue.  I am too tired to rescue someone else, and too tired to entertain someone who calls, leaves a voicemail saying she wants to "catch up" and then says absolutely NOTHING when I call to chat.  If I wanted to hear myself speak I would talk to my cats. 
I'm actually pretty relieved that I am not speaking with her.  My frusteration levels would go through the roof every time I called her in the last little while.

I can't understand people who WANT to be depressed.  I spend every day that I am depressed trying NOT to be - and trying to plan activities (even though at the moment they are mostly  within my home) to keep busy and not stay sitting like a lump on the couch.(I'm all for marathon couching, sometimes, but you can't do that all the time all day long!)   She did not do the same, nor did she encourage or try to participate in any of the stuff that I was trying to plan.  She just wanted to sit on her porch smoking cigarettes all day long - and even when I told her I was quitting, she could not respect that fact and would still constantly bring up smoking when we talked. And if I were to come over, she still wanted to sit on the porch smoking cigarettes all day.   Same thing happens with emotional cutting.  I haven't done it in years, but she constantly still does it.  I asked her to please not talk to me about it, she has a great therapist and I feel that those things are better discussed there - especially since I told her that I  felt quite triggered and had to work very hard not to fall back into old habits when she would describe her cutting to me.  The same thing would happen if she decided to overdose on her medications.  I have had issues with that in the past as well, and am doing my best to stay away from that kind of harmful behavior.  Sure there are nights when I wish I could just down 5 sleeping pills and knock out for the whole night (normally I sleep maybe 1-2 hours and then wake up).   I don't need that kind of temptation. Or lack of support. 

Despite the fact that I am relieved to be rid of that particular frusteration, I am still missing female contact.  I think that if I had more girlfriends I wouldn't feel so desperately sad about some of the things I'm lacking in my romantic life.  Plus I'd probably have a more realistic view on what a romantic relatiionship is really like, 'cuz right now I compare our life to that which I see in the movies... and, lets face it, that's probably enough to make anyone depressed.  

I'm not giving up on my happiness though.  I don't know what it's going to take to get there - but I'll figure it out eventually. 

The Current Underlaying...

I've mentioned a few times on this blog that I've always had a tendancy towards the melancholic side of things... inspired by Dexter(sorry! You know I'm totally obsessed lately!), a "dark passenger" if you will (only mine doesn't make me kill people - it just makes me overanalytical and slightly woebegone). But like him, it has made me feel isolated, alone, as if I had this secret that the rest of the world didn't understand.  And like him,  I didn't know where this comes from, but I've recently discovered that it might just be genetic.

Before I get into full mode on this post I'd like to say this:  I know that some of the women I follow on Twitter are in the process of filling out adoption papers.  This post is about the other side of that, the side of the adoptee, and I just wanted that to be known up front in case it's too sensitive for some to be reading right now.  

I am adopted, you see, so those forms that you have to fill out at a doctor's office are quite a bit shorter for me - never able to fill in the blank spots where it says "family history". Until now.

In Ontario, until June of 2009, adoption records were closed.  Meaning I knew nothing.  Nothing at all - even though my Mom (though adopted, she's still my mom, 100%) knew a bit.  She kept me sheltered from what little she knew until recently, when I began to express a litte more interest.   Not that I didn't always know I was adopted, but I didn't know the particulars.   But last year, when the laws around adoption in Ontario changed, and I knew that I would actually be able to get somewhere without becoming Nancy Drew (was gonna put Deb Morgan here, to continue on the whole Dexter thing... too much?), I approached my Mom and she gave me the documents she did have.  She had the report from the Children's Aid about my birth parents and their families, and when I read it I would be lying if I said I wasn't shocked at all the similarities.  It was like I was reading a document written about me.  Their hobbies, their tendancies, and what struck home the hardest was my birth mother's "tendancy towards the melancholic".

I had never even used the word melancholic to describe myself before.  I always used "depressed", "down", even "manic" at times, but never that particular word.  It's wierd, because after I read that sentance about my birth mother, I realized that melancholic really is the perfect word for me. It makes me feel not so... depressing! It sounds more romantic, more soft, less whiny. 

So, although I now know my birth mother's name, her birthtown, and how she met my birth father and conceived me, the one thing that I think about and am most grateful for knowing is that I am melancholic - just like my birth mother, and that is ok.  I'm not sure how much farther I will take my curiosity.  She lived in a small town about an hour and 1/2 away from where I live, and I've been playing with the thought of going there to see what I can find out - but again, that's a bit too Nancy Drew for me.

I may just settle with what I've got, which is much more than I had before when I was floating around not having the slightest clue as to why I was the way I was.