Here I am….

I had thought that the meds would take longer than this to start to not work as well.  I didn’t even notice until today that I am sleeping more than anything else.

I had excuses, not enough of sleep and so on.  And I am nowhere as bad as I was.

But yeah, when I realized I was contemplating staying in bed for another day, then I read a post on facebook… and it motivated me to get moving.  It was from Elizabeth Taylor, (And of course now I cannot find it!)

Basically, it said to not to think of each day as a success or a failure.  Count everything you do as a fight. Me getting up, making the bed and getting dressed.  Success!

Then me getting my face washed, even doing my hair some then being in the computer room?  Success!

Now writing this post, as well as getting the Kindle that I am using to move my ePubs over to my Kindle account and so on, more success!

Focus on the positive not the negative.

IT’s not easy at all. But it reminds me of why I like lists.  so I can cross stuff off, so show my accomplishments for the day.

Which is something that always confused me.  Shit, it still confuses me that I essentially am a positive person, but I am depressed.

Yeah, I know it is a clinical thing and so on.  But, I spent a lifetime with the stigma that a depressed person is a negative person.

Which is not the same thing, I know that, but still.  How someone who thinks automatically thinks the glass is half full, depressed?

Let us take the lists for an example.  I do a list to see what all I have done, instead of being depressed on what isn’t done.

I know there are other things like I can get down on myself for periods of feeling like I am being lazy.  I may be doing more than others, but to me I am lazy.  I am not accomplishing what I set out to do.

At the same time, getting sleep from 5 am to 9 am for the ‘night’ is enough to justify lying in bed, but then I realized I am ending staying in bed most of the time.

*sighs*  It’s an uphill battle.   And I have to keep reminding myself of this.


Tuesday Rolls Around

So today is another day.

I woke up with the plan to make stew, cause you know, it takes all day.

It doesn’t.  It takes a few hours, but if I start it when M is on his way home, we will eat soon enough.

But I did eat, and I have a snack/lunch to eat as soon as it cools down.

I am also writing the Once Upon a Time story.  I finally have their first kiss, where I wanted it and the changes it has wrought will affect quite a bit.

I also have to go back and edit one of the previous chapters to make it where the conversation I had on the beanstalk with the two fits better.

Though, it is much easier to write this since I watched ahead. MY muse is loving the story again.

I won’t lie though, getting up was not easy and I want nothing more than to take a nap.  I had Stormy attacking my feet and waking me up and everything that happened in the house working to wake me up again and again.

But right now there is no one home, no one to bother me.  Well, the animals, but it is easy to make them leave me alone.

Tomorrow is the gym, but I am looking forward to it.  I need to get some of this tension out of me, and letting my body work on it at the gym sounds good to me.

I am starting the planning out of the month, how and when I will be doing stuff.  I will be gone for a long time, but the weather in Tucson is never… easy I guess is the word.  You can never plan for it, since it can change as much as 30 or more degrees in a day.

Since it is the beginning of winter, they are still having warm days.  And cold nights.

I will be bringing t-shirts and sweatshirts.  With a few other stuff.  The easy thing is PJ’s.  I open the window in our room, (they are smokers and I like to be cold. It works that I have a room that is less smokey.  Though, when I am there, they try to smoke outside as much as possible.) And that is when they are cold.  40’s and lower.

Even luckier for me, they are higher in elevation than Tucson, so it gets COLDER.  I love the cold.

So, the week before we leave, I will be pulling out the winter clothing, actually unpacking the socks this year, (last year I didn’t and I regretted it!) Washing everything, and pretty much packing it all away early.  That way that Tuesday, all I will need to do is wash whatever there is the clothes basket, pack the essentials.  I will take a shower that night, and the following morning wake up, get ready, and pack up Connor’s stuff.

Then we will be off to M’s workplace.

Before hand, I have presents to wrap for family here.  Banners to make for the writing contest.  And whatever comes up between now and then.

And for some reason, that makes me kinda happy.  ok.  More like looking forward to it.

I like being busy, and I think that time will be busy, all doing things I like to do.

I’m off to write more on the chapter, then maybe, go and work on editing Sacred.

Write a chapter for Best, then edit a Chapter for Sacred, as well as writing a chapter for that?  Sounds like heaven.


Another Tuesday

How sad is it I feel guilty for getting a late start today?

I finished Clocks last night, I also did the post for today’s prompt, but I feel like I failed in some way.

Yeah, some of it is because I gave into Stormy and her cuteness in wanting to spend time with me, but still.  I should have more self-control.

Last night was one for the books.

My cousin’s new husband, and father of her youngest shot himself by accident last night.

He got out of his car from work, and reached back in for his Glock, which don’t have safeties.  It went off, shooting him in the upper thigh, hitting the main artery there.

Luckily for him, my cousin was home still, running late for dance practice, and ran out, telling her young daughter (5) to call 911.  Her brother ran from his house that is next door, and literally saved K’s life.

He put a tourniquet on his leg, and held pressure for what the tourniquet didn’t stop.

It took a half an hour for the ambulance to come, thinking it was a normal gun shot wound.

Finally, Life Flight had to be called, (we live in a rural area, and they live further out, however, there is a ambulance that was close.  My cousin used to be a firefighter and knew what was going on) and they had to stablize him to take off.

AFterwards, he had a 10-12 surgery and then was in ICU.  His foot was blue.

Luckily, today he has a pulse in his leg and can move his toes, though he cannot feel them.

Needless to say, the family is shook up.  We keep checking on my grandma, since she is home alone, everyone is at the hospital.  I live about 15 minutes from her, so if she needs anything, we can be there for her.

It does make you think about life and how little things like this happen.  A simple accident can end a life.

I am going to try to lose myself in my work as we await more news.  Life has to go on.  Me going to the hospital is a bad idea, since I have to calm myself even when visiting for my nephew’s births.

I spent way too long in one with my dad, and I cannot shake that time.  I was too young.  Of course, when is anyone old enough to deal with their parent in the hospital fighting for their life?

Talk to you guys later.


Good morning!

I have been busy lately.  I started back to the gym (yeah me!) and I even achieved something so far.

There is a machine that I want to use, but it is HARD.  Even when I was going more often, I could barely do 5 minutes.  Think the Stairmaster, which is the first stage, then as you lengthen your strides you get to where you can run on the thing.

It is all on bands and less stressful than the Elliptical on your joints.  And I have strict orders not to be hard on my joints especially my knees.

So I do my exercise on the bicycle (doing the couch potato to 5k app!!) and then move on to the machine from hell.  Monday was a proud achievement.  I finished 5 minutes with a minute slowdown/stop for a drink.  Since I am to do this 3 days a week, I didn’t go Tuesday.  Wednesday (yesterday) I did it, and no stopping for 4 minutes, then a 5 minute cool down on the elliptical.

I am doing this.

Next week I plan on hitting the weights.  Monday arms, Wednesday legs, and Friday being all of them on a row of machines.  And the following week to add in a stretching exercise on Tuesday and Thursday.

I am taking this slow and easy.  Especially since I will be gone from the gym from End of November – January.  During that time, I am not supposed to run on pavement, so I will be walking those days to make sure I don’t lose anything from not being in the gym.  And the stretching exercises.

I am also trying to get me to wake earlier.  Since my mom has been staying up later and later, I don’t have the freedom to write like I need at night.  Therefore, I am going to aim for mornings.  If I miss, then no biggie.  I will just work from when I get up.  But the alarm will be set, and it will help some.

I also found some things, like I need to have a candle burning in the house, (apple spice) and tea to help me focus better.  At least I think so. I did all this on Tuesday and worked like a fiend.

Then yesterday I hardly did anything.

So today, tea is brewing, candle is lit, and I will be opening my document and hopefully finishing this group of chapters.

I also had some odd thoughts over the last few days.

  1. Are we taking the Gluten free things too far when my shampoo bottle declares itself gluten free? (are you going to eat it?)
  2. How strange am I that I cannot control my own brain?
  3. If leaves are shed here in Houston, why don’t they change colors? (I know there is a science reason but still….)
  4. Who eats shampoo?!?!?!?!??!?!?!?!?

Yeah that one is really bugging me and bugs me the more I see it on the shampoo.  I mean I can understand the no salt part.  You don’t want that if you have died hair.  But gluten free?

And has anyone ever got so bored of stuff that they can’t find anything to do?

I find myself there, and trying not to be a workaholic, I am trying to find something else to do.

but.. saying that I wonder why I am doing that?  Writing is what I enjoy.  My brain is all full of ideas and story lines and plots.  Some of them relevant to what I have open for stories.  So why am I hesitating?

Some of it, is that I get tired of being talked to… and when I put on the headphones signaling that I am working, I still get asked questions.

Now, sometimes the Facebook annoys me, when people other than the ones I want to talk to pop up, but most of them are awesome about me telling them that I am trying to work.

Like yesterday, I was talking with three betas over different things, and a couple of times other people popped up.  They were nice about leaving me alone.

Now… the reason I have Facebook open all the time is so the Betas can contact me.  Sometimes it is over just chatting, but as I mentioned yesterday, those chats can spark ideas.

Anything can spark them, but my ladies are the most attuned with me, and when I stop them all and say hold on…..  They know that there is something brewing there.

Plus they are the ones who cheer me on when they know about stories that you guys have no idea about.  They tell me no, it is not too odd an idea.  (which I actually need often.)

I also get to know them, and know if they have stuff coming up so I can plan around it.

Well, that is everything I can think of for now.  The candle is scenting the air, the tea is cooled enough for me to drink (ok sip but you get the idea) so I am off to work!



You guys are going to think I am.  But today I am pretty zesty for life.  I made tea, and it’s ready to drink, once it cools slightly.

The sun is shining, and I got a very enthusiastic welcome from Murphy and Connor this morning when I opened the door.  Dancing, wagging tails, as well as squirming to get more pettings.

Right now Connor is in his place at my feet, he is the writing puppin.  Seriously, I seem to write better when he is at my feet.  A sense of relief from all the times I knew where he was when he was a puppy and I didn’t have to run out and try to figure out what he did to the house now.

Who knows.

I am being picked on, since when I went to buy Stormy’s new Cat collar (she got too big for the kitten one!) she got a blue and grey.  either the pinks were yuck! or had flowers and so attached to them.  Yeah, like that would work.  I am lucky to have a collar on her.  Morgan never stood for them, nor does Tucker.

We need that Bell!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

But really today?  No deep thoughts nor anything really.  I am going to see if I can write something today.  I have chapters everywhere, but I am not feeling the pull to do this.  Or maybe I will play around… we will see..


So I had a hard time sleeping last night.  Seems Connor and M wanted to make sure there was no silence last night.  M snored then Connor did right after him.  I gave up and waited for the time M went to work…

Then I guess Grandma had a spell from taking bp pills when she no longer needed them.  I had two phone calls about that.

There are times I wonder on our family.  We all talk about our issues to certain people and never the ones that need to be talked to.  Or we are quiet on it, not wanting to hurt each other’s feelings.

While doing things that are more hurtful.

Don’t get me wrong, we are a bunch that I wonder sometimes if my ability to write and make up stories was from the escapism I needed from the RL drama.  If you read my fanfic or any of my writing, I am not one for much angst.

Unless you read some of the really original stories.  Those are all stories I have told myself.  What If is another example of me being using Writing as an outlet.

I have a lot of people thinking I have stress from all the stuff I do.  It’s not that.  The stuff I do is still less than I have done in the past.  Way less.  I have organized departments, carried a 4-6 person department on my shoulders.  While only doing it for half the time.

Writing and all this is my escapism.  It is the relief that I can actually sink fully into the movies in my head and escape the he said she said, she did this, she hurt me, why don’t they’s, that go on in my real life.  As time goes on, I get to thinking how they all tease me about talking all the time, and I wonder how much they pay attention now with how I barely talk anymore.

I have withdrawn into myself more and more as time goes by, only coming out online since I often feel no one would like me.  And often when I come out online being myself, then people leave.

I guess I suck in relationship skills.  I stay away, because if you wanted to talk to me, you would.  When I feel like I am carrying on a conversation with only me talking, then I back slowly away.  Cause I have been taught through interactions that it will be the foretelling to them dropping me like a hot potato.

Then comes my fucked up memory.  Remember the details of stories, the names of my characters and so on?  Sure!  Remember that someone has a loved one in the hospital, a birthday coming up, or sometimes a name?  Uh… What?

I pay attention.  For some reason these things fall through the cracks and no matter what I try to do, write myself notes, tell myself to remember and so on, it won’t help.  And I feel worse about being a person.

On the other side of the coin, I am often surprised when people remember me.  Yes, I don’t have a double standard.  If I can’t remember facts, why would I expect you to do so?

I am far from perfect and would be the first to admit it.  I argue, insist I am right.  I know where I get it, but hey, it is me.  Others do the same thing.  I refuse to be shamed on it any longer.

And I love to write.  I love to lose myself in the worlds in my head.  I am writing a novel, but feel so unsure about it.

I have felt that I am never any good on anything I do.  I am shocked when people say I am part of the big clique’s and that I am famous in our little fandom.  For what?  Helping others?  I will take that one.  For writing?  Then why does it seem to be forgotten so much?

I feel often that I am losing myself.  Just draining away from what I used to be, turning into a shell of myself.  I am hoping some time away from the constant drama, and being with people that I feel like me for myself that it will help.

Yes, I have a flighty as hell muse.  But I understand it well after the one day my Dr suggested I relax the strict control I have on my brain.  To relax.  And it genuinely scared the crap out of me.  Thoughts came crashing in at speeds you could not believe, about many different things at once.

Do I know it is going on beforehand?  Yeah.  I sense it going on behind the little theater room I sit in and watch things.  But I learned long ago to control it that way, and it worked.

That day terrified me, and I was more terrified of not gaining back the control.  How freaking sad is that?  Not to be able to regain control of your mind?  The thing that governs everything I do.

But I did, and I completely understand Sookie and her ‘walls’.  I painstakingly have added and put them up, to the point that I made it an exercise that when I passed the baseball field on the way home from High School, I would reshore them up.

All over Tucson are these spots, that even to this day when I pass them, I find myself doing them.

IT makes it hard to do a lot of normal things, and I suspect all that information that I can’t remember is back in that mess, but I learned to accept the answer delivered to me, or for when I search for the answer, I have to follow the trail in my head to the answer.

My family has mocked me for this for a long time.  I get the right answers, and beat them on some genius level games, but I get mocked for it.

Maybe I don’t have any confidence, since whenever I found something I enjoyed, someone had to come along and make sure I knew I was not the best at it.  There will always be someone better.  How dare you even think that you are good at it?

Cooking?  That I am allowed to be, as long as I share it with them.  Baking?  No.  You are supposed to be a cook or a Baker.  not both.  WE don’t care that you can do both.  We don’t care that you have to listen to music to allow yourself to work.

You can’t do both.

Writing?  Well look at your reviews vs the rest.  And it’s only Fanfiction.  It’s cheating.  So why bother writing anything original, since you can’t achieve anything in the fanfic world.

And you get the idea.  I have been taught to think of myself worse than everyone worse, even when the facts are in front of me that I am good at something.

Lately it is getting worse, so I am glad I have here to vent.  Otherwise, I think I would go mad, or completely silent.

Then I wonder if anyone would even notice anymore?

Another day.

And I woke up this morning feeling… bleh.

Then I beat the stupid level on Candy Crush Saga that I had been stuck on and cheered up to the point I am here to write this, and eat.  Afterwards, I am cleaning the house that Niall’s house elves will be cleaning this week.

Which will make it easier, since no dusting except for the things that normally they wouldn’t touch with a ten foot pool (like my Painted Ponies.  Those things cost too much and then there is my tea containers, too many).

I have OCD.  I have calmed it somewhat.  I now only go through the closet when I pull the summer stuff out and put in the winter.  Or when I am annoyed enough to not find what I am looking for.

I am also organized, except for certain things.  Things that if I had not relaxed on, I would go mental on.

My drawers.


They are what broke me.  I HATE to roll the top over on my socks, since I love socks.  As much as shoes.  They go together, hand in hand.  So I may not wear every pair in the week or even in the month.  Since I actually match my socks often to what I am wearing.  To pull out a pair of perfectly good socks to have the top saggy from being stretched too long?  YIKES!!!

And since I do a lot of footsies, I can’t just fold them.  Well I can, but one search through the drawer seems to undo them all.  I have too many and too small a drawer to put in an organizer beyond the one I have now.

And you want to know how bad everything is organized?

One drawer for under things.  One for scarves (and beanies), one for socks, and one for cami’s.  Cause until I lose weight, cami’s are the best friend of a lady with huge freaking breasts.

Then there is the drawer for Pj’s  (Which really needs to be two, one for the bottom halves and the other for the tops!) then one for jeans, shirts, and the last changes per season.  It is either for shorts and capri’s (That did NOT get used this year thanks to a kitten) or sweatshirts.


I love sweatshirts.

Closet is for everything that can be hung.  But it is getting filled with pants that go with many of the tops.  I spent a lot of money building them up, and to just throw them away?  Hell NO!

Then there is the rest of the house.  Everyone that comes into the house can tell my side of the office from my mom’s.  If you ask me for something, I can put my hands on it in less than five minutes, unless you tried to put it away. (clears throat looking at everyone else in the house.)  I have baggies that hold different things in boxes.  They are nicely labeled.  Take the second to see if the charger you are holding has a bag.  If not?  Leave on my desk.  I will take care of it.  Do NOT just throw it in the box.

I also have dogs.  That Chew.  Well one is mine, and the other has decided he is mine.  He’s not, but he thinks he is.  Whatever, I take care of him like I do the other one.  I have a kitten that likes to knock things on the floor to watch the dogs tear it apart.

I also have a cat that is my mom’s who has decided to use my kitten’s cat litter box instead of his own.  Normally no trouble.  But now?  Her box is small.  Perfect for her.  Not for his huge ass.  So I spent everyday not only cleaning out the litter boxes  (yes two since she has one in the bedroom and one in the office) but also cleaning up where he tries to cover his mistakes with half the kitty litter in the box.  ::Sighs::

I also get tired of junk being loaded on things.  You know the stuff no one knows what to do with, and instead of asking, just lets it pile up on the table I like to eat at.  No one else does, but I do and I get irritated and go into the office to eat.  Then I am irritated to the point, I pull out the wipes and clean my desk….again.

I am far from a saint.  But if I clean something, it stays nice for awhile.  Until the rest of the house goes to hell then, I get pissed and won’t do anything.  Then I break and go nuts for a day.

See, my hubby and I live with my parents.  It started out temporary, then things kept happening, and instead of moving out, we stayed to help them keep the house.  We took out a large loan to keep the house, since no one told us until it was almost too late what was going on.

The house is large, four bedroom, one a master suite another a father-in-law suite.  Those are in the ‘new’ part of the house.  My hubby and I stay in the front of the house, which consists of the living room, front door, a bedroom and the main bathroom.  And the office.

The middle is the kitchen and on the same side of the house is the father in law suite, which is being used as a guest bedroom/library, and now the dogs room for their crates.   The back half is theirs.  Media room, Master Bedroom.  Back door.

I share the office with my mom.  I stare out on her half of the room, and actually am learning to block it off since I stare at my screens more often.  But there are times it pisses me off, like today and I will be organizing her half.

I will be going through my area, putting away a lot of little things that people stack up where I don’t see them normally until I need something, then I find a million things that don’t belong on shelves that they don’t belong to.

Granted, some of them are, ‘Dammit Stormy!’ move it’s.  Stuff that she decided that was in the way, cause she is going to use wherever they were originally as part of her the-floor-is-lava avoidance plan.  She has complete highways through the house, now that she can jump further, that ignore the floor.  I know she can get from the dining room to the back of the house not touching the floor.  So far, she has not figured out another way to do the other parts of the house.

Thank God.

This is the time that I scare everyone, since I get pissed no one has hung up that picture I bought a month or two ago.  I put the dang thing exactly where I wanted it, (below it) and no one did it no matter how many times I asked.

Then they beg me not to use hammers.  C’mon people, I was 13 when I put the hole in the wall!!!

Ah well.  Now to get to the cleaning, so I can annoy the hell out of everyone else when they come home. Since I work here, I have to put up with their messes, while they get to go to their other places.  If you make a mess in my work space, don’t expect me to be nice when I have to clean it since you can’t be bothered to put your dishes in the empty dishwasher that is marked dirty.



This is the new place I will blather on and on about me.  I know some people want to read what is going on, but others don’t.  So here is my solution.  This is going to be where I talk about anything I want.

Rant on whatever I want.

Wonder about the mysteries that come across my brain at no thirty in the morning…

To just blather on.

Not sure how long it will last.  But I wanted a place that I can be myself, to say what I want.  And if people don’t like it, they don’t have to read it to get to my posts.

This is where I will talk about what is going on in my life.  This is my place.  If you want to say anything, you can.  Otherwise.  As my favorite movie says, this is just me mouthing to the great void of the internet my thoughts and so on.

So let us get to today.

I started the gym today.  Again.  I had to fight with myself.  I was up at 3:30 and it took a moment in time before the 9:30 alarm went off.  And I told myself… I need to do this.  I can sit all day on the computer and type my life away, but I need to do some physical stuff too.

I regret some things in my past, and one of the is the weight gain that no one can figure out. I curse my Russian background, but while I say, I should have exercised more, I do remember adding PE to my college classes and doing them.

I remember walking and jogging and nothing seeming to work.  So who knows.  It was also the period right before I got sick.

And yes, I know there are people out there that suffer more than me.  I know at least 2 courageous ladies who fight Fibro and others who have their own demons.  But at the same time, I had to accept that my pain is no less than theirs.

You see, I was diagnosed with IB.  No biggie.  It was nothing until I started to work for American Airlines.  And from there, I stressed myself into the point it hurt so badly that I describe the pain as trying to have a baby through my belly button.

I admit it, I stress and never know it.  I don’t feel a weight on my shoulders.  I don’t feel anything different than normal.  There are some times that I should be stressing, but I just don’t feel it.

So I suffered from IB, and periodic up flairs, that would render me incapable of wanting to leave a bed.  There would be times I would not want to eat at all, since it hurt.  Water hurt.  Everything hurt to eat, drink sometimes breathing.

On top of this, I have trouble sleeping.  Why do I do Fanfiction and why is writing so easy for me?  Cause I have told myself stories to fall asleep since I was little.  I would pick up the last remembered idea and continue on them the following night.  Unless I had a dream that inspired a dream.  The Long Road Home is one of those ideas I am playing with writing it out.

I can’t even tell you how long it was, but I was working for American National.  I worked myself from a lowly data entry clerk to building databases and helping with budgets.  I had worked as a supervisor for a small group, discovered access, and worked with it, until I had programs that did everything from balancing bank statements, to checking that the numbers we used balanced back to the statements that our system gave us once a month.

From there, one of our more progressive directors asked me to do something with our agent reports.  I spent a month running around, and for each and every account that they had, put a main agent on it.  Then I painstakingly tore the accounts out to show me the lines of businesses with the loss/ gains.  All put on a spreadsheet.

I also worried about $10 that was not balancing right.  Seriously.  I was messing with millions, and worried about any amounts that were off.

I often would find the amounts over the three reports that they looked at.

Yes.  Three separate reports that I would make balance to each other, and if the amount was off on all of them, I would tell them, and often they looked at me oddly.  But hey, I was a perfectionist.

I do admit that if I had not worked myself to that placement, I would not understand most of what was going on.  I had to clean up a fubared beyond anyone’s capabilities to understand mess.  Then turn around and make reports, since no one else fully understood the reasons why the accounts were messed up until I simplified the reports.  They were the new reports sent to the accounts is how much I changed them.

I balanced those buggers every month.  On top of doing downloads that came out comma delimited and balanced for people to use once a month.  These would take a day to 2 days to do.

By the time that I got really sick, I had badgered people until I learned what I needed about the business to understand it frontwards, sideways, and backwards.

I reported any discrepancies to the management as I was told to do.

Then they taught me state reporting, and the next year, asked me to automate it as much as I could.

I not only turned a job that previously took people weeks to prepare, a team of 5-7 to do, with lots of OT.  To me doing it completely by myself.  Calling the outside agents to get the reports broken down as I wanted.  And I found a couple huge ass mistakes that I had to graft onto the original reports to make them make sense.

I also participated in a project that took me working 7:30a-10:30p.  Everyday at one point, but pretty much everyday a close schedule, while keeping up on my duties on my own job.

I also was put in charge of maintaining numbers on over 150 people.

All this lead to me not realizing that I was stressed out of my ever living mind.  But I felt nothing.  I talked with people, but while some of it was bullshit, a lot of it was me finding out stuff that helped me out, and even had me changing things on databases I was building to make them more usefull to others.

I was the checkup on EVERYONE.  My database and me analyzing the numbers, often showed the mistakes.  Yes, this made some people pissed, but since I would come to the ones responsible for that part, and allowed them to fix the issues first, it soon died down.  One lady would order me from her office, and when I complied, she laughed and told me to come back and show her the issues.

So I suddenly couldn’t sleep. At all.  I was to the point I was trying to go to work, when I have barely sleep for a day, for the week.  I fell, hurt myself and did much, and continued to go to work.

Finally, I gave up and went to my doctor.  Who was appalled at what I had gotten to.  She put me on ambien and I got FMLA for it. Since if I couldn’t fall asleep right away, or anything I can sleep through alarms.  If I woke still under the influence, I couldn’t drive.

I could work from home, but they didn’t like it.

Then all of a sudden, in May, it got so much worse.  My doctor sent me to a specialist.  I had lost 50 lbs in 2 weeks.  I couldn’t keep anything in my body.  And it only got worse.

I ended up getting fired from the job since they wouldn’t let me work from home, and decided that their specialist knew more than my doctor (I wish he would have called mine and told her what it was!! We spent months after that still trying to figure out what is going wrong!) and told me I had to come back to work.  With my doctor releasing me.

She refused.

Which she had every right to.  I would eat and immediately be sick.  There were days I could not move, it hurt so bad.  For me that is saying a lot.

I was popping immodium like it was candy.  Seriously.  1-2 tablets an hour to make me stop.  Nothing worked, and there were times they considered me to be in the hospital worried how sick I was.

Later my gall bladder came out, and it settled things.  But they said it was a stopgap.  And my hubby decided that it was enough.  If we could survive without me working, then we would.

I should write he said.  Snickers!  But I am happier.  And that is what he wanted.  Well and me to write a novel that would make some money.   lol!

And to make me feel better, my loss was felt, since my cousin, who I taught it all to, refused to do it.  The person that took over, had none of the qualifications for my old job, and couldn’t figure out what to do.

I only wrote one in detail book on the only database finished, and holy shit, it was detailed. It broke down the formulas and everything on how to do it.  The others weren’t done, and my cousin couldn’t stop laughing when they tried to work my database for the huge project.  And they loss the lady who taught me how to do it.  I had become the last person who could do the job and none of them know how.


Nothing makes you feel better.  And I know from my inside sources that it was not just my cousin who missed me, others did also.  One shook his head and thought it was stupid, and wished that I was never moved from his department.  Oh how I wished I didn’t also!

To this day I still have minor flare-ups.  I do get sick more easily than anyone else.  I hate it all, and my return to the gym is a chance to fix some of these.  There are other issues, but I will focus on one at a time.

Thanks for reading this.  I promise these won’t be all pity parties.  Some would be my thoughts on debates going on.  (Like the confederate flag thing?  Get over it people!!!) as well as other thoughts.  It may not be all cheerful, but hey, it is mine.