Category Archives: Health

No (new) dancing animals

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For those of you who were worried about my sanity because of the recent influx of dancing animals, you will be relieved to know that this post does not showcase any NEW dancing animals projects.

Yellowstone Dancers – the pause before commitment

I am still working through my ideas around Yellowstone Dancers. I think I’ve landed on a plan, but there are a few details that I’m working through. Here’s a recap of the six directions I am toying with.

I’d love to hear what you guys think the most effective study is.

New Starts

As I’m not ready to struggle with the full sheet that Yellowstone Dancers will become, I started two new paintings while contemplating my options.

There are things I am liking about each, though they have a long way to go. The reference photos are from this summer’s trip when I stopped at Sand Wash Basin to see the mustangs.

The following is a personal  recap. If you like the art stuff, stop here. There are no pictures or fun things below.

In other news…

In other news, I am headed back to the doctor. I don’t want to, but things are not heading in the right direction. I’m on a total of 18 medications (including vitamins, etc.) and I’m still struggling with this list of issues:

  • Rash (face)
  • Rash (shin)
  • Stomach/abdomen (general pain)
  • Foot (pain, not new, plantar fascitis)
  • Coughing
  • Breathing poorly
  • Tired / no stamina
  • Blood sugar levels (yes, I have diabetes now) seem high, in spite of diet (looking for a class)

This seems like too big of a list to keep ignoring. Saturday I felt awful; I slept 8 hours the night before, took 2 naps during the day, took the dog for 1 walk, sat around on the couch the rest of the time, and then slept 9 hours the next night. Sunday (today) I do feel better, but it’s a relatively low bar.

I feel so bad that a lot of the time, I don’t want to eat. You would think that would help my blood sugar or help me loose weight, but it doesn’t seem to. And when I do eat, things don’t seem to sit well. A friend posted about a condition called mast cell activation syndrome (MCAS) and so many of the symptoms fit that I sort of wonder. I am pretty sure that’s not the cause, but the point is, something isn’t right and I need to stop using “ignoring it” as the treatment option.

Work

I don’t usually write about my job; it’s sort of boring and I wouldn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings with a poorly-thought-out comment, but this has been one of those weeks that I need to recap, just so I can look back on it and hopefully be in a better place.

In late August, the Executive Director of my agency announced she was moving on to a new position. While this was professionally irksome, I think everyone was excited to personally wish her well. Then came the second announcement. The gal who was our deputy director, and who would have been the logical person to take the ED’s place, had decided to “step back”. In other words, she wanted to go from being a cheese to a cracker. Fair enough, but it meant that a whole new person would be heading our executive team and we’d be dealing with at least two new managers (of a total of 4.) It seemed like a lot.

Then my co-worker died, which hit everyone hard. The memorial was last weekend, and while it was a lovely service, I think it was harder than any of us gave it credit for.

The cherry on our personal sundae was announced a few weeks ago; my agency had finally gotten permission from the head office to move into a smaller footprint, meaning we would give up individual cubicles in favor of extended work-at-home allowances and in-office stations that you check out for the day. That move would be happening in early November. We’d been making some changes to prepare, but with a deadline in hand, my team would have to put it in high gear.

By the time I went into the office on Thursday to help with the move, I had cried each of the preceding days of the week. This week had quite a few items on it, and they were the kind of items you don’t do very often, but are really important and time-consuming. With the changes listed above, many of the people I work with on these projects were either gone, new, or overwhelmed. It wasn’t a good scene. Then Thursday I went into the office to help with the move, had an epic low-blood-sugar meltdown, and was unable to help for the entire day. It made the score 0-4 for crying.

I went down to the beach this weekend, and did very little, partially because I did feel so poorly. Intellectually, I know that we have to give ourselves space. But things do seem pretty overwhelming right now.

Mental Health

Continuing along the theme of “ignoring it” is not the best option, my therapist retired last month and I have yet to find a new one. She made several recommendations, but I hate doctor shopping and haven’t dealt with the issue (what’s new). But with all the above, I may need to hurry up and find someone who can provide some guidance. You know… just to make sure the painted animals are the only ones dancing in my world.

Wipeout

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For this post to have the proper effect, you really need to imagine it with the song “Wipeout” by the Surfaris.

As I mentioned in my last post, I’m on a bit of a “vacation.” A rest. Alright, more like a sudden layoff without any kind of severance pay.

A wipeout.

Young swallows resting on barbed wire, Basket Slough NWR

The Past Thing

Over the years, I’ve written several posts about my medical history.

Itchy and crazy

OK. I admit it.

The trouble with being human

 

So, most readers probably know I have my share of problems, particularly around breathing.

Last summer was a bad fire season with some fires very close. I developed some kind of asthma flare and in December finally broke down to talk to the doctor about it. They put me on a short course of steroids, which seemed to clear things up. Then in April, I had a bunch of things go wrong at once and developed a cough. I got some antibiotics, but May I went back to the doctor who put me on another course of steroids.

The Current Thing

When I came back from vacation, I was a mess and (again) went to the doctor who decided that I had an exotic type of asthma and an allergic reaction to a medicine I had started in April. Going off the medication seemed to help a little, and on June 29 I went to see a pulmonologist who didn’t have an exact answers, but ordered a bunch of tests and put me on a decongestant and an antihistamine. Unfortunately, over the 4th of July weekend, something went wrong and I developed an even worse cough. But I stuck it out, hoping either the medications would work or one test or another would deliver results.

Midway through the week, I posted this to my feed on Facebook:

A little (long) update. When your best friend, boss, and childhood playmate all say the same thing — “I’m worried about you” — it can be daunting. I’ve been dealing with “an asthma flare” since the first part of April. No one knows what caused it; probably a variety of things. Allergies, maybe a small sinus infection, getting the COVID shots (not saying you shouldn’t get them, just that they can take a lot of out you.) But the tipping point seems to have been a new medication that I was either allergic to or had a rare side effect.
Since I first alerted my doctor to this, I’ve been on antibiotics, cough suppressants, and steroids (prednisone). But the situation hasn’t cleared up. They did eventually take me off the culprit medication, but are nagging me to choose another one. Going on vacation was fun, but being at a higher elevation on all those dusty roads did nothing to help, so when I came back I pulled the “emergency brake” and called the pulmonologist. Unfortunately, my former pulmonologist has moved on, so I got a new one. He seems okay though and ordered a bunch of tests. So far, we know I don’t have fungus in my lungs or a rare type of asthma triggered by white blood cells. But that’s as much as we know.
I’m on a high dose, at regular intervals, of both a new allergy medicine and a decongestant. The doctor says we’ll know in about 10 days if this is helpful or… not. In the meantime, some tests are still being processed and I’m not sure if I’m hoping they find something, or hoping they don’t. Currently, I’m unable to take Key for walks because I can’t get enough air. This results in a squirrely dog and me with a mild headache (unrelated to the dog.) The coughing has caused me to hurt my back and I am so sore and depressed it’s hard to tell exactly what hurts. I’m not really hungry and nothing sounds good, so I don’t eat right, which is creating heartburn. I keep telling myself, “spoon theory.” Do the most important things. Don’t worry about all the rest. Allow your body to rest. I’m terrible at that too. Today was the first day this week that I felt like I was getting anywhere close to enough air. Could it be that something is working?!?

Then on the evening of the 10th I was playing a computer game before going to bed. I looked down at my feet and they were ENORMOUS. I couldn’t remember the term (edema) but I knew this wasn’t the direction I wanted to go. I called the advice nurse who strongly suggested going to the emergency room then, or at least urgent care in the morning. So, the next morning, I went to urgent care. Five hours later I was back home with a diagnosis of pneumonia and congestive heart failure. I was put on antibiotics and diuretics. It wasn’t instantaneous, but by Wednesday I was once again able to walk the dog, though not for long.

The stories above should not suggest that the doctors know what’s going on. I contacted the pulmonologist who indicated he DIDN’T think it was pneumonia. He told me to keep taking the decongestant and an antihistamine. I have an appointment with my general practitioner on Wednesday (I actually haven’t seen her through this whole thing because getting an appointment with her is harder than making a specialty appointment.) I feel like the appointment won’t go well, partially because no one seems to know anything for sure.

The wheat fields will be mowed any day now

The OTHER thing

I have not wanted to admit this, but I feel like denying it is getting ridiculous. In January, my regular doctor said my A1C had risen from pre-diabetes to diabetes level and she wanted me to go on metformin. I delayed until April; I didn’t want to have to go on more medications. But I did start the metformin in April, which was the medication that it turns out I’m allergic to. I know that at my appointment on Wednesday, she’s going to want to talk (more) about getting on some kind of diabetes medication. Unfortunately, I feel like I just don’t care about that; I just want to breath.

I know it’s all related. My weight has finally “caught up” with me. It’s putting too much pressure on my heart and lungs. The diabetes is then making those things even harder. According to tests, my kidneys are compromised from the diabetes. The whole thing is putting my body under too much stress, and my body is starting to turn off.

I am vehemently against that.

In the last week I have spent some time and energy looking over my WW app and trying to come up with a support plan. The biggest issue is that WW locations are not fully reopened, and the nearest one to me isn’t all that near. And there isn’t a convenient time. I could do the online meetings, but I am craving some human interaction for this project. And like so many other things about humans, I’m not sure how to get that.

The final challenge, of course, is that I am completely freaked out and borderline irrational. Whenever I go to the doctor’s, I swear all I hear is a big, blaring siren. It makes it difficult to have a rational conversation with the doctors who are trying so hard to help.

The Next Thing

My boss, my best friend, and my childhood friend have all said, “I’m concerned about you”. They don’t know the whole story, but I am trying to remind myself that people do care. And that I care. And that I can make lifestyle changes that will have a long term effect, though unfortunately not a short term fix. But if I can put enough changes together, I will start seeing some improvements.

I’m trying to keep all that in mind.

And have patience with the doctors.

Aftermath

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I arrived home ahead of schedule on Wednesday and just sort of collapsed. I took the dog and about three absolute necessities into the house, got into the shower, and then into bed. Thursday I unloaded the car, hauled things into the house, and dealt with the tire situation. I sorted through some laundry and reassembled the toiletry/medication storage in the bathroom. Friday I took the dog for a small hike, did a doctor’s appointment, got groceries, went and got bloodwork, and made more feeble attempts to put things away. Saturday I did food prep and a puzzle. And finally, today, I’m sort of feeling close to normal. I guess it doesn’t matter, because I’m going back to work tomorrow, and my rested-ness (or lack thereof) is irrelevant. However, I do wish I wasn’t so exhausted. This isn’t entirely unexpected. Between prep for vacation, vacation itself, and the reassembly of life once it’s all over, I’ve been busy. Added to this is I am still struggling with this asthma flare (Eosinophilic asthma) and I feel beyond awful. I’m also struggling with a bit of depression. Or it could be just being tired of coughing and doctors. I hate doctors.

Saturday, in a fit of temper over the Friday doctor’s appointment and the results that came through on Saturday (but no interpretation) I did this painting.

Chasing White Pills

Yes, folks, I’m feeling frustrated. As I said, I’m waiting for result interpretation (I hope Monday), but they have also discontinued one of my bills and I’m already noticing a difference (improvement.)

In fact, Sunday I felt well enough to unpack the art supplies from the seminar and work on finishing (or trashing) the paintings from the workshop.

 

For right now, I think I will leave it there. I’ve got a few pending things to say, but I’ll work on additional posts to cover the topics.

In the meantime, enjoy the weather… or air conditioning, depending on your preference!

Some days you gotta rest

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As I mentioned a couple of weeks ago, I am not having the best health season. Tuesday I broke down and WENT to see the doctor. While he was very sympathetic and listened to my concerns, the diagnosis is a severe asthma flare up. I don’t know, and it doesn’t matter, if it was allergies, the COVID shots, a sinus infection, acid reflux, or some demonic combination of all of the above that caused it. I’m back on steroids (among my least favorite medicines) and feeling, as my grandma used to say, puny. The worst part, for me, is that this whole thing reminds me so much of 2007-2008 when it took over a year to diagnose me with hypersensitivity pneumonitis. But the time I was diagnosed, so much damage had been done that I am not very capable of dealing with this rationally.

All this is to say that my production on the art front has not been prolific. I mostly just want to sit around (any activity makes me cough) and glare listlessly at the world. Other than the camera update from my last post, the only thing I worked that’s interesting to look at is this fun piece.

“Rain Rhythm”

This is not to say I didn’t do art stuff. I did some prep for my vacation (which includes a painting workshop by Peggy Judy) by prepping a few of the American Easel panels I got at the second sale a few weeks ago with gold or black gesso. I also picked out a few more items on my list to pack; there’s now a small (or not so small pile) waiting to be packed when the time is right. I’d like to do some pre-drawings on the panels so I can get right to painting at the workshop, but it’s yet another thing I may not get to.

I have to concentrate on getting “better” before leaving! I don’t want to be up in the Rocky Mountains on the wrong end of a bad asthma attack!

2021 Goals

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I’ve started this goal post several times over the last few weeks. As early as late October I was making plans for a year that was not 2020. Aside from the obvious society-wide issues, 2020 had a lot of personal highlights. I had my first solo show. I coped with a pandemic. I moved. I got a pair of new pets. I kept my job while my employment had layoffs. I struggled with six months of the busiest I have ever been. I did a six-month art mentorship. I won my first award at WSO.

In the last couple of years, my goals–or at least the way I approached them–have shifted. With Mom’s sickness and death, I tried to give myself a lot of room. And I’m not saying that’s bad or that I want to go back to my old way of doing things. But I’ll admit I’ve had some anxiety about moving forward.

The 2019 approach was too touchy-feely for me. Adding some concrete items this year was helpful, but it’s still not feeling exactly right. A friend writes a great post each year about her intention word. My word for 2020 was “change” and I feel like maybe that was too powerful. I worried about this, and even December 31, I hadn’t chosen a word. Then, when I went for a walk this morning, a word came to me and I’m going to accept it. Joy. That’s my word.

So, I’m left with simply writing down what I needs and want to do. Here goes.

Area 1: Health and Fitness

  • More about this below

Area 2: Mental Health

  • Find a source for yoga and/or meditation and go to it
  • Remember that alone time is an important part of my mental health.
  • Do NOT overextend yourself (be on boards, volunteer too much)

Area 3: Painting

  • Put out 12 newsletters in 2021
  • Keep my website current
  • Write at least 52 posts
  • Enter these shows:
    • WSO Spring
    • WSO Fall
    • Enter the Equine Art Show (Emerald Downs)
    • AAEA
    • NWWS Spring
    • NWWS Fall
    • Western Fed
    • Emerald Art Center
  • Workshops:
    • Roaring 20’s
    • Dawn Emerson
    • Peggy Judy

Area 4: Everything Else

  • Stay employed
  • Reading: Goodreads 2021 Book Challenge – 72 books
  • Continue nose work with Key, working toward NW3 and elements
  • June: Montana / Colorado trip
  • Explore the Hallie Ford art museum
  • Visit the Salem carousel
  • Bird watching: Beat my 2018 bird species total of 176. I’d like to get to 100.
  • Knitting: Finish a project. Any project…
  • Participate in the 2021 NaNoWriMo; consider doing some editing on past projects.

Health

Almost every conversation this year has had a component of “I’m so tired” in it, sandwiched between some new challenge the pandemic has brought and, far too often, news of loss. While I cannot control any element of the pandemic and certainly not death, I’m drained by feeling mown over by random events. Every moment feels like a choice between tears, a temper tantrum, or sleeping for the next 20 years. Fair enough, and a normal reaction. But there is also a lot of research about the power of simple actions to increase happiness. It’s time for me to deploy some of these actions.

Like many people, I’ve put on weight this year. Sigh. I’m as heavy as I’ve ever been. And boy, do I feel it. My breathing is bad, my feet hurt, my clothes are too tight. And I feel completely helpless to change the behavior that has led to this. I know what has to happen. I even have some of the tools at my disposal. But it feels too hard.

Recently, a friend posted this cartoon on my Facebook wall.

The idea of doing things for “future-me” struck a code. I’m going to try to think of it like that.

To that end, today I’ve hit my 10,000 steps, purchased groceries, and planned my meals for the week. Tomorrow (Saturday) I’ll do my food prep for the week and then I’m going to eat the food. I also downloaded the 1-second-a-day app and I’m going to try to use it as a journal for this. I have WW and I’m going to use it.

I know I won’t be perfect. But future-me needs some love and attention. Joy will come with small steps.

Focus

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When starting Ruth Armitage‘s Roaring 20’s mentorship program, I filled out a little questionnaire about my goals. One of the questions was about how much painting I did and if that was enough or if I wanted to do more. I answered that I painted from 1-4 hours a week, and that felt like enough. This weekend was a “1-hour”.

It was a long week. It started with a carefully crafted email explaining to a co-worker that I was not perfect, progressed to a 6-hour all-staff Zoom call, and was capped off with two (minor) doctor things.

I was so tired, I  thought about heading down to the beach house and just sleeping, but I had a few errands to run and some chores to do, so I stayed here in town. I’m not sure what happened to Saturday, but today has been a couple of dog walks, a nice long nap, and a very small amount of painting.

I’m not sure why things seem so hard right now, and I’ve been fretting about it. Yes, there is a global pandemic (haven’t your heard?) And, yes, at work we are being deluged with budget cuts, co-workers leaving, and the resulting chaos. But, I am all moved. I like it here. Both me and the dog are okay. I feel like I should be handling things better.

On my dry erase calendar, I have a copy of this illustration.

I was examining it this morning and it feels like the items at the base (personal safety and health specifically) are just not there. I read an article about how all the new decisions around COVID-19 are taking a toll on our mental state. It’s a factor; I’ve started avoiding Facebook because I’m just so tired of the ugliness of people. Watching people I care about repost hurtful inaccuracies, traumatic video clips of protests, and dramatic health stories feels like more than I can take.

All of this is to justify (to myself) why, in 48-hours, I only sat down at my easel once.

Friday Critique

Friday was the 2nd cohort meeting of the Roaring 20’s mentorship. The four of us submitted images and Ruth went through them with us and suggested enhancements and next goals.

I submitted my painting, “Transition” for the critique.

“Transition” (2020) – 11″ x 15″ watercolor on paper

Ruth loaded the image into Procreate and showed me that adding pink to “lead the eye” around the painting would enhance the painting just enough to call it done.

“Transition” (2020) – 11″ x 15″ watercolor on paper

I took most of her suggestions, signed it, and sent it off to the NWWS show. Fingers crossed it gets in (I also sent “I Feel Pretty”.)

My goals for the month are:

  1. Continue with last month’s goals
    1. Leave out some information
    2. Change something
    3. Define what emotion (in the beginning) I am trying paint. What is the personal connection to me?
  2. Lines: Focus on variation in line and crossing lines
  3. Loose edges

Sunday

Sunday afternoon I finally sat down at the easel. I decided to work on finishing this painting.

I’m toying with the idea of calling it “Girl Power” instead of “Feed Bag Racers”. It’s not done yet, so I have a little more time.

Then I worked on some starting some ideas around my next project.

In March of 2008 I took the trip of a lifetime to England. There, I toured London, then went to the Crufts Dog Show. I meandered south to Cheltenham for the Festival and the Gold Cup before returning to London and coming home.

Thank goodness digital cameras were common, because I came home with thousands of photos.

The first two races of my first day were steeplechases (I found out that steeplechases are not a description of any race where horses go over jumps; jumpers start with a “bumper”, graduate to a “hurdle”, and from there go to the full-fledged “chase”.) The size of the jumps was magnificent. The distance and spread of the race was awe inspiring. And when all the runners went over that first jump as a pack, my breath caught. Ever since then I have wanted to paint from those photos. And now, it’s time.

Like last month, my goal is to do several versions and/or sketches before doing a larger piece. I’m not ashamed to admit that sitting down with the photos and trying to begin was hard. Have you ever wanted to do something SO BADLY but at the same time worried about screwing it up?

And then I made the first marks, concentrating only on the shapes.

Rather action-y!

I took out a new toy, water-soluble graphite pencils. Fun!

I added some watercolor and gouache (notice the pink head, that was my nod to the week’s goal of having a clear focus of the painting; I like how it turned out!)

But, as I said, I’m tired, so I stopped there. In my graphics program, I combined the two images, seeking something bigger but also a shape to fit the paper.

If I added one more “down” layer I think it would work (I added the horse head between the images in my graphics program. It leaves something to be desired.)

I have a lot to think about for next week’s painting session!

Neurodivergent

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Every so often, I publish a “stealth post.” This post will be one of those. I tend to process things slowly, and writing about difficult topics can help me put things in perspective. I usually don’t go out of my way to publicize these posts because the topic is personal and not “on point” to the art blog I try (with varying degrees of success) to cultivate.

Tough Week

Last week was a tough week, though I really didn’t expect it to be. I’ve been feeling pretty good lately. The beach house is finished. I still miss Mom, and probably always will, but the end of the “first year” is in sight. The holidays seemed to be cooperating with my desire not to engage.

Then Monday I didn’t feel well (female troubles). I went to work and made it through the day, but in retrospect, taking a sick day might have been better.

Tuesday all other people in the world decided this was a full moon that was gonna COUNT. Words cannot describe the wiggly-ness of the world at large, but it was A DAY (and then some).

Wednesday, I headed off to work, and then went to help at an event. The State of Oregon has a food drive every February; Wednesday was the kick-off event. (History: The first two years I worked for the state, I helped on an agency level; the last three years I have helped on the state planning committee. This is something I care about and I’m very proud of this work.) The plan was that I would help with, well, whatever needed helping with and then take charge of a small group and answer any questions people had. Simple enough.

I got there and started helping with the exciting tasks of stuffing folders and counting posters. Pretty soon I was helping with check in. It was weird, though. We weren’t getting the volume of people we usually get. About five minutes after the event started, a HUGE rush of people walked in the door. A train had blocked the tracks for 20 minutes, delaying everyone and adding a certain level of desperation, exasperation, and general crankiness to the events.

Now, that set of emotions has never had a beneficial effect on any group of people, and this set was clearly having trouble following directions. “Should I put my name on my name tag?” “Should I take 20 or 22 posters?” No one seemed to be able to use the name tag station (set up for two people) in tandem with anyone else, which slowed everything down. Directing people toward the doors of the event was harrowing. At some point, I remember telling the indecisive poster person to go ahead and sit down, we’d sort it out at the end (note: It appears I did not SAY that, but that’s the gist of what I meant.)

Finally, the crowd thinned. We were making sure the names were coordinated and the posters were stacked correctly when the gal sitting next to me said, “That was really inappropriate!”

Caught off guard and confused, I searched for what she could mean. “Ah, yeah…” Her tone and demeanor indicated that something was DEEPLY wrong. It appeared that I was the cause, but I just wasn’t picking up on what had happened. I said, “I’m sorry, can we clarify what we’re talking about?”

“You just can’t talk to people like that,” she snapped at me.

I blinked. “I’m sorry. I guess I got a little anxious because everyone was late, and–”

“Then maybe this isn’t the job for you,” she said sternly.

“Are we talking about the poster gal–” I started.

“Yes,” she growled. “We’re trying to make sure that all these volunteers have a good experience. You just can’t talk to people that way.”

Right here, my mind stopped. I replayed (as best I could, which wasn’t great) what had happened. I realized that what I had been trying to do in keeping everything efficient, rushing people through, and telling “poster person” we’d sort her out later had come across as rude, cross, and unfriendly. Possibly other things as well, depending on what I had actually said.

As the full impact of this swept over me, I started to make excuses, caught myself, and simply said, “I’m very sorry.”

She didn’t continue and instead pushed paper around in an angry manner. Realizing I was starting to cry, I got up and helped another volunteer to count posters to fill orders. When we got done with that, I was supposed to go into the event for the question and answer session. I stepped outside to try to regain my composure. And I realized composure wasn’t coming back that easily. So, I grabbed my coat and left. Once I was back at work, I confessed my inexcusable behavior (in between hysterical sobbing) to my boss, then went home to take a couple of hours sick leave.

The next day (Thursday), wracked with guilt, I wrote an apology note to the planning team, both for my actions and for leaving them short-handed. Friday the head of the committee wrote a terse email back thanking me for my apology (but offering no forgiveness) and kicking me off the team.

Fair enough.

I am now in limbo to see if this matter will drop or if I will have to go through a more formal punishment with my agency and supervisors.

Friday evening I saw my therapist and told her about the incident.

Another Thing

Here’s something else that’s been going on in my head lately. A few weeks ago I took another load of Mom’s papers to the shredders. As usual, I briefly looked through them to make sure nothing “important” was there. I found Dad’s complete military record, both Mom and Dad’s complete employment record, and every tax return since 1972. I’m not exaggerating.

I briefly flipped through Dad’s employment record to see what it was before relegating it to the shredder. On top was an “official warning” from 1982. I remember this period, though I didn’t know the back story. Dad was an industrial arts teacher at a junior high. Apparently, Dad had gotten into some trouble; he had been in a couple incidents while coaching baseball, had called a child “a moron” to his mother, and had been cited several times for getting overly excited in various situations. As I was looking through all this, I remembered Dad shouting about all this at the dinner table and curses he would hurl at the principal of the school. I was 7-8 at the time and I remember being terrified.

When I found this letter, my first thought was, “This is proof that I’m not making him up. He really was like this.” The second was, “I never even had a fighting chance.”

Because, you see, that warning was about me. It cited the kinds of things that I seem to do without realizing it: become overexcited, over truthful, over argumentative.

It really shook me. The incident on Wednesday is proof that the apple didn’t fall far from this particular tree.

Genetic Chances

Dad was dyslexic before that was a thing. Today, he would also be diagnosed with ADHD (his father had many ADHD symptoms.) And his mother was chronically depressed, something both Dad and I inherited. I’ve understood this about Dad for a long time, and while I don’t excuse all his actions, I do see them through this filter (and the filter of a POW and an alcoholic.)

For myself, for years I have known that I am not good with people. As a friend reminds me, “Working with people is not one of your strengths.” But this last incident got me wondering: Is this just a matter of strengths and weaknesses? Or are we talking about a genuine, neurological issue?

I pointed to my therapist out that the term neurotypical was gaining traction. For years I have wondered about the possibility that I might be slightly “on the spectrum”; if I was in school today, I honestly think I would be categorized this way, though “high functioning” or with some form of Asperger’s Syndrome.

My therapist pointed out that is probably a combination; there is an argument for a genetic issue, but there is also a strong argument for this being a learned behavior. But, she pointed out excitedly, it didn’t really matter. The trick was to find a work around. If I move forward with my “neurological” theory, what could I do or say to prevent me from getting into these situations.

Work Arounds (Where to Install the Tara Safety Blade)

As I see it, this is the situation that is most likely have a bad outcome.

One of the key element to how bad things get is the environment.

One solution is that I could learn to evaluate a situation and simply say, “I have a sensory processing disorder. I am afraid that if I do ______________ it will not end well.”

Alternatively, in a given situation, instead of moving to the “I can make it better” stage, just content myself with helping. And if more is asked, repeat that my sensory processing disorder statement.

My biggest concern, however, is that I don’t seem to be AWARE of that I am doing this. For years, people have told me that I snap at them. I have no memory or awareness of doing so. Other people complain about me “shutting down.” How this is bad or a problem, I don’t understand.

While I was researching various things, I came across the term “low frustration tolerance” which lead me to this article. The suggestions are interesting, but quite a lot of work.

  • Relaxation
  • Cognitive Restructuring
  • Problem Solving
  • Better Communication
  • Using Humor
  • Changing Your Environment

On the other hand, something has to change. I hate being in the “place” I am now of feeling guilty, anxious, and stressed.

Healthy Steps – 4.39

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Because I don’t push my “healthy steps” set of blogs out to Facebook, my sense is that this set of blogs is mostly my own. That’s okay. It’s really just my log to try to keep myself motivated and accountable.

Wednesday, at check in, I had gained .2 lbs. There are several reasons that is a big victory.

I took a fall on Monday and I was on painkillers (known water retention) and stiff and sore (known water retention). So, that gain felt like a win because it was so small.

Since then, I feel like I have been making strides toward getting back on track. My work desk is no longer filled with candy, the house is out of ice cream, and I’m generally getting back to eating “normally” which is to say not staggering around eating whatever I want.

I sat down this evening with the solid intention of recording all that, but I also had been thinking a lot about time.

I’ve been (continuously) on Weight Watchers now for almost 5 years. April 21 will be that big anniversary. With my weight and history, I have accepted that WW is just going to be part of my life now.

So this week, I changed my “numbering system” of these posts so I could keep track of years and weeks. I could have just said “247 weeks”, but it feels hard to remember when a year hits.

I’m not sure that this is a stellar plan because immediately I have started to worry about “how much time has passed.” But here’s the deal.

This has been the ONLY 5-year period in my life, since I was 13, when I did not GAIN weight.

So, that’s enough for me to keep trying. I know it’s hard, but it’s also important.

My goals:

  • Eating my prepared food
  • Hit 10,000, taking at least one break/lunch walk
  • Tracking breakfast and lunch
  • 2 Frappuccino per day

I actually toyed a little with the idea of increasing them, but I’ll see what I can do about nailing them before adding more.

WW makes a big deal about knowing your “Why”. There are a lot of reasons I am still working on this. But here’s one from a few years ago that still touches me.

Healthy Steps – Weeks 51 &52

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Wednesday (January 9) I checked in at WW. When I did, I realized it was a big day. It has been 1 year (and 4 before that) since I said I was serious about working on a healthier lifestyle.

So… have I done it?

While I am currently on an upswing, I have lost a total of 22.2 lbs this year. At one point, that number was closer to 40, but the point is that I made progress.

A year ago I was saying this:

I am morbidly obese. This last year has shown me that this burden is going to get harder as I age.

  • My feet hurt; I’m still struggling with plantar fasciitis.

  • My knee hurts: I have a torn meniscus.

  • My breathing is not great: I’m recovering from the flu, but also just fat.

  • My back hurts.

  • My hips ache.

With Mom’s death, I am starkly aware of the burdens obesity puts on the body. When I was closer to -40, I have to say most of those had improved a lot. Currently, I can only report that most of these things are better, but not where I want them to be.

So, looking forward to another year, am I willing to keep trying.

Hell, yes.

It’s been 12 days since Mom died, and I can’t promise to really get into this yet, but even over the last week, I’ve made steps. And for this week, I’m going to work on being kind to myself and adding these goals.

  • Eating my prepared food
  • Hit 10,000, taking at least one break/lunch walk
  • Tracking breakfast
  • 2 Frappuccino per day

I started a year ago with these two thoughts.

Indeed. I’m signing up for a few more steps.