Another year older...a bear's journey.

Today is my 53rd birthday my friends. Last night I was sitting and watching the beautiful harvest/blood moon and eclipse and was thinking to myself...what if the world does end tonight? Well that's not really possible because someone would have noticed if Australia had disappeared from the face of earth so I guess it's not happening tonight. How do I feel about that? Well...I am kind of sad about it because then folks who are suffering would be free from their pain and hunger and fear. But on the other hand...the child in me would really prefer to enjoy my 53 birthday sans Armageddon...after all...I still had presents to open. So much for being a mature, sensitive being right?

It all boils down to my somewhat (oh who am I kidding)...my seriously messed up sense of self. I mean, most people wouldn't feel bad because they wanted to have their birthday instead of a visit by the four horsemen of the apocalypse...right? See...messed up. On the bright side I am working on self-care with my therapist so maybe my blog next year will be totally rainbows and unicorns and shit.

I have been around a good while now. I have lived in Missouri, Arkansas, Tennessee, Minnesota and now Missouri again. In every place I have ever lived I have been blessed with wonderful friends. There are friends that I grew up with...many of whom I still manage to be able to call my friends. Elaine, Michael, Carol, Margaret, Myra and many more I am forgetting. Amazingly enough I am still friends with folks I went to high school with...it's amazing because I am not sure I talked to anyone all that much...they are a patient lot. Friends from college, Dave and Bonnie, Janice, Lori, Karen, Lisa, Stephanie and a lot of others I am forgetting. Friends from my misspent party days, there's some overlap here I must say, Marsha (RIP), The Troll, Nancy, Julie, Paula, Lori, Connie, Sheryl and many others. Friends from Arkansas, Amy, Hollie, Maryeileen and Josh, Pat and Jan. Friends from Tennessee, Mike and Bernice, Bridget and her wonderful girls. Friends from Minnesota, Julie, Inez, Candace, Penny and Mike, Charli, Jeri, Stuart, Diane, Kim, Darcy, Jan L, Jan P, Alison, the bowling girls, my church family at St. Paul's, my fellow suffering Wal-Mart peeps and anyone else I have forgotten. Now I am making new friends back home, Catina, Amber and Justin, Keith and Terri, Michael, Regina, Chasidy and Staci, Danny and Amber, Stephanie and Terry, Raymond and Kimmie, Jason, the Lindas, Marie, and all my other co-workers. My point in listing all these folks is that I have been very blessed to have them all give of themselves and their time to me. They have all made me laugh till I cried, snorted and probably peed. They have brought much joy to my life and they mean the world to me. Every last one of them.

I grew up in a very abusive household and my dad kept us reasonably isolated and so I did not get to spend any time really with my Clayton cousins but they are still family to me. Tommy, Connie B., Cindy, Dixie, Sammy, Patty Ann and Gloria. I have been blessed in recent years to reacquaint myself with them and it makes my heart happy. I am closer to my Barchak cousins who are as delightfully quirky as myself and I love each and everyone of you.

And then there's my best friend. The one whom puts up with my depressive mood swings, my whining, my endless self-examination, my ADD and all my other quirks. The one whom I do not hesitate to call at 1:30 in the morning when I am rushing my dying dog to the emergency clinic. The one who won't let me hang up the phone until I am home safe. The one I turn to for everything. My world, my heart and my soul. Yea...you know who you are.

The point of this blog is that I am VERY blessed to have a wonderful group of people in my life. They are all family to me...whether there is shared DNA between us or not. I am not always good about sharing my feelings with others when it really matters. I joke a lot and try to cover up my insecurities and doubts. I find it hard sometimes to have really serious discussions with folks. I mean...what if they are thinking...Jesus...what a dork...I wish she would shut up. See...messed up. So with this blog I sit here and with all the honesty and love I have in my heart say I love you all and I am glad you blessed my life with your love and your presence. I am a lucky 53 year old working on enjoying the bonus years she never thought she would have. So bear with me and just absorb the mushy love stuff...I will get back to my normal self soon.

Namaste my friends!

Ode to a drunken sailor boy

This is Lester. Lester and I met almost 3 years ago at the local humane society. I cannot remember now if they posted a pic about him or whether it was on one of my ill-advised visits to petfinder.com that I saw him. It said he was an older dog and part Corgi. I already had a Corgi that I adored and I always feel sad for older dogs stuck in shelters. And when I saw his name was Lester (my dad's name)...well I HAD to go meet him.

When I got there he was so tiny and skinny looking but he had this jaunty kind of gait and a little sparkle in his half-blind eyes. I was on the fence and then they said he was sponsored so that closed the deal right there. I was hooked. So I brought him home.

We had quite the adventures in the years he was with me. He got blinder and deafer and his heart murmur got worse, then better and then worse again. He had horrible teeth that we got fixed. He was not even remotely house trained and that took a year of patience and hard work to accomplish. He was much better toward the end although he was still my tiny bladder boy. He had a bout of geriatric vertigo that never really went away. He always listed to the left. I called him my drunken sailor boy. He went to Colorado with me 2 or three times. He was very brave. He liked the adventure but he did not enjoy the car ride. I adopted a puppy mill damaged poodle named Owen who he took under his wing and welcomed into our happy home. He stayed out of Fiona's way and had a wary truce with Kitten Face.

Last night, or rather early this morning his heart gave out on him. He started having one long continuous seizure and he was in a lot of pain. I rushed him to the emergency clinic in Joplin and had to let him go. He had been seizing for a solid half an hour and the pain needed to be stopped. He was such a sweet boy and had such a sweet spirit.

I will miss him sliding down those last two steps on his face. I will miss yelling at him to stop eating cat poop and licking Owen's personal area. I will miss him constantly laying at my feet. I will miss him sleeping with his tongue hanging out and having to shake him 2 or 3 times to wake him up. I will miss waving my arms at him to come into the house because he could neither see me well or hear me. I will miss trying not to step on him in the dark when I get up to go pee in the middle of the night. As the only dog with a tail in the house it was a challenge. I will miss him barking at me and prancing around in an effort to speed up his breakfast or dinner. I will miss his sweet, drunken, smile and his kind spirit. He was the only dog I ever had who was so passive that he would not even defend his food. He was a kind little boy.

He was the polar opposite of his namesake and I think he came to live with me to help me see that there was a Lester in this world who was kind and loving and who loved me. I miss his presence and his kind heart. God bless you Lester for sharing your last three years on this earth with me. I am honored and a better person for it. Namaste my little drunken sailor boy. I love you and rest in peace. (And try not to pee all over heaven please. :))

Holding down the fort so to speak!

Tonight I feel the need to wax poetic about something that some of you might find disturbing so if you are easily grossed out you might want to move on...now!

Tonight I would like to talk to all of my sisters out there who have reached...shall we say...a more mature age.

Do you remember those carefree days when you could wake up in the morning and just throw on a pair of underwear and go? Or maybe you forgot to do laundry and just went commando (Dave...you know who you are)? Ah...those were the relaxed days when all a girl had to worry about was whether her period might try to sneak up on her at an inopportune moment like stepping into a pool full of people or when you insisted upon wearing those white pants (Kristy...you know who you are)?

It began as an insipid and sneaky process...how these easy going days were replaced with a growing sense of paranoia and padding. First...you reached the age...say in your 30's or for those of you have had children...the day after having said child...that you find yourself coming to the realization that the Lightdays pad has now become an essential part of your wardrobe. You don't even go to the mailbox without making sure things are secure. You have now reached stage one.

Stage two comes along some time in your late 30's to early 40's when you realize that the Lightdays you have relied on for so long have now lost their usefulness. The volume has exceeded the ability of the cotton to absorb the now more prevalent leakage issue. Now you are faced with two big decisions. Do I just go to a regular pad all the time or can I get by with an ultra-thin...maybe with wings? I refuse to go to the Depends isle. I just refuse!!

Stage three is planted squarely in your 40's. Now is the time when fortifying those underwear is at critical mass because now even the most innocent of sneezes can cause def con 9!! God forbid you should get a bad cough or pneumonia! There is nothing that can save you now. You just have to rely on those extra underwear that lurk in the back of the drawer...you know...the ones you wear only in case of dire emergency. Well...this is it sister. You have to pull out all the stops for this time period of your life. Either that or you hide at home all the time.

This is also the time when you suddenly realize that you MUST know the location of the bathrooms in every public building you enter. You walk into any store or home and immediately start scanning for the bathrooms. It just becomes second nature. You are always on alert...like a toilet ninja! Hah!

Or better yet...you hop out of the shower and suddenly realize you are OUT of the necessary underwear dam building equipment. How can this be? I thought there was at least one more in the bag. Shit! What do you do now? Well... if you are like me you start seeking cotton salvation everywhere. Maybe that suitcase I took last time on vacation? Maybe my backpack? Maybe that other bag? And for a moment...just a brief moment...as you are tearing your house apart looking for salvation in a square wrapper you wonder if you could get by with the pads that go in El Diablo the pee monster's belly bands? You shake that off...because let's face it that is just really for the def con 9 day. You stand around...frustrated...pondering if you can get to Walgreen's without needing a change of clothes when you see...peeking out at you from your nightstand...salvation...Alleluia!!! Crisis averted...for now.

Stage four always sneaks up on you. You THINK you are doing fine with that super long, overnight, with wings pad and then you realize that for the last month you have started using two end to end so you can get maximum coverage. This works for a little while until you suddenly realize that that odor might actually be coming from YOUR who ha. EEKKKK!!!  So you suck it up and you head to the senior citizen aisle. You stand there for awhile wondering just how far you will have to go to strengthen your battle lines. Can you get by with the extra long Poise pads or should you just surrender and go with a Depend? Bravely...you stand tall...and say...NAY...I am not ready for the Depend yet...I am only 53 for Christ's sake!! I shall not surrender my remaining dignity. I shall go for the Poise and pray for the best.

We all know it's only a matter of time until surrender must be complete but for now we proudly hold our lines and secure the fort. And every time we sneeze or have a coughing fit we stop and check to see if we think our defenses have been breached and then we go to the bathroom to be sure because we are paranoid.

Yes children...the time is coming. None of us can avoid it for long. The older we get the leakier we get. It's just the sad reality that comes with all this wisdom we have accumulated. So be brave! Hold that fort strongly and pray for deliverance from the final destination...the Depends aisle. Hold your head high my friends and try not to sneeze!

Hamster Wheel

I am brazenly stealing a metaphor from a friend of mine. She can sue me...but really what could she gain...3 geriatric dogs and a neurotic cat...it's just not worth it.

This Labor Day weekend I find myself on the hamster wheel. I have tried various techniques to dismount said plastic, banging endlessly on the side the of plastic cage, devious rodent conveyance but here I am still running and still banging.

You see...I have recently been told that I display "negative" behavior. My first impulse was to blurt out "no shit Sherlock" but I contained myself until I could come home and abuse myself in private. I bloody well know that I can be moody and I can be quiet! I am a depressed, ADD suffering, PTSD surviving, introvert and empathic ball of emotional mess who can barely navigate this world without the "assistance" of other people pointing out said flaws to me.

I have not tried to hide said personality "flaws". I do try to minimize their impact on my daily life so that I can function but I have never tried to hide who I am. In an effort to keep some sort of pride in tact I do admit to trying not to sob at work because my dog just had three episodes of heart syncope right in front of me and I had to leave him at home alone because work was more "important" than his well-being.

I was raised in a very abusive household and I spent the first 18 years of my life in Catholic school...of course I am overly critical and can get cranky. I am also ridiculously intelligent ( sorry for that bit of ego but I really am rather intelligent)  and a perfectionist so when I encounter something that was done sloppily or stupidly I often mumble character assassinating things to myself. I wish I was more tolerant of these things but it's a difficult thing to overcome. I am always far harder on myself than anyone else. I hold myself to high standards and when I mess up it's not a pretty sight.

You see...to make a mistake admits that that bastard of a father was right about you all along. You are a stupid woman who is always at fault and always doing things wrong. To admit that you are human opens you up to the ridicule that you just can't stand anymore. You must protect yourself. So you very sincerely apologize for making the mistake and then you agonize over said mistake for God knows how long because if you beat yourself up over it no one else will feel like piling on and you can be safe in your warm blankie of self-loathing.

You may wonder where I am going with all this...well I don't really know other than I need to get it off the wheel somehow...so...here goes....

Dear World: Please see above self-description of my character flaws of which I am well aware. I understand that I can be moody, introspective, shut down and well...not always the Mary Poppins type persona you seem to want to encounter on a daily basis. I am who I am and I can only try to improve myself to make myself happier and not to please you. If I am able to change it will be done so in an effort to live a happier life for myself and not to make your life easier. If my depression bothers you so much that you feel the need to make nasty comments about my behavior being negative well then I think that says more about you than it does me. You can pay lip service all you want to respecting the "diversity" of others and you can pretend that you are the amazingly nice person that you think you are but my demons and I know better and we do not accept your judgment.

I am going to continue to be the person I am while trying to find a way to be a happier person for MYSELF. I am not going to hide who I am so that you will be more comfortable. I am not going to be dishonest to myself or anyone one else. I will try to be the nice, but flawed, person that I know I am. I will not step into the darkness with you. I would rather live an honest life than one in which I have to hide myself away so that you won't have to see another person struggle with the life you take for granted.