Get over yourself! An open letter to the passionate person I ran into today.

I get it, you are quite passionate about where you stand on all these massive political subjects such as gun control and abortion,  but could you not go on a 5 minute rant when I bump into you at the grocery store?  When I asked how's it going,  I meant with you and the family,  not the whole world. I really didn't need to hear how the whole country is completely destroyed because of this president,  who I am pretty sure you hate for the sole reason that he is not white. I didn't want to listen to you bash what's her name who can't find some email and therefore has caused the universe to explode. I have more pressing issues like finding out if the veggie chips are in aisle 16 or 17.
You may find that ignorant. You might think that I don't give a shit about anything but myself. Maybe you might feel that I should be more concerned with what goes on in the country I live in. Maybe you are right, but right now I just want to shop. I have my political views and I express them where they matter, where they will maybe make a difference, like to my local government, or on a political forum, not to an acquaintance I bump into at the store.
Thanks!

Super easy way to make a perfect "Chevron" (Zig-Zag) pattern

I have been admiring this pattern, which has been popping up on so much, from clothes to walls, and of course home decor. ****Side note: Maybe you know, maybe you don't, but I now have a little store on Etsy where you can go and buy a custom wooden sign made by me. ****

 I wanted to add this little design to my signs, but my hands shake constantly and perfect lines are just not my thing; so, I came up with this easy way to make those perfect evenly spaced zig zags.

Things you will need:

• Painters tape (I used stencil tape because I had it on hand)
• surface of choice (canvas, wood, drywall, etc.)
• Xacto knife or other cutting tool
• paint
• stencil brush or sponge dabber thingy :) 

Start by painting your surface the base color, I chose grey for this project. Obviously, if your surface is the color of your base color, you wouldn't need this step.

Then take your tape and start making your diagonal lines. I used a small piece of tape as a spacer to make sure the lines were evenly spaced:

***if you are really obsessive, you could use a protractor to get your 45 degree angle, but I'm not picky.

Now repeat the same process going the other way:

Now take your exacto knife and cut out the pieces in between:

Voilà! 

Now paint your top color using a stencil brush/sponge:

Wait for the new paint to dry and then remove the tape:

So easy, kinda quick, beautiful "Chevron" stripes. :)

Now to add to that: You are my Sunshine.

My babe (5) loves this song. I have a cute memory to share about it too. He was maybe 2 or 3, we were shopping in Target, and I was singing this song to him. When I'd get to the "please don't take my sunshine away" he'd state that he was going to take my sunshine away. My reply was, "please no!!!!" and he would give the cutest little evil laugh. ~End cute memory story~

Hope you've enjoyed my little tutorial and feel free to stop by and shop my etsy store!

 My favorite item - your child's name painted on their favorite theme. You think it, I paint it! 

Thanks for stopping by!

 ~Love~
Bethanne

Out of the darkness

I can't sleep. I have a lot on my mind regarding my current position in life, the people that have lost their battle with depression, and how I can make a difference.  There is an event coming up, I am sure you have heard of it,  called Out of the Darkness.  I would be a horrible voice on suicide prevention if I didn't participate, so of course, I will be providing links for you to sponsor me. I can't say that suicide is 100% off my mind, but it is only a random thought these days. I am much healthier than I was. The new meds haven't kicked in, but my pain would only rate a 4-6 daily as opposed to the typical 8-10 I was going through.  I still have my limits which cause me shame in my role as a wife and mother, but I am learning to talk down the shame and recognize the strength I really have.
It is true that a person needs a belief to hold on to in order to fight any struggle. Be it drug addiction,  alcoholism,  abuse, depression, and so on. For me, I lost faith in the religion I was brought up in, and I still struggle with turning to that God, when I am so unsure of his existence. However, I do strongly believe in reincarnation and that your actions in this life do directly affect your next journey.  This belief holds me to doing the right thing by everyone,  including myself.  Times get tough. We struggle.  We get through and we grow. The next life will be a breeze. (I am sure at this rate I'll be a princess within the next 2-3 lives.) But if I give up now,  I will continue to suffer each life until I learn to fight. For those of you fighting with depression or any struggle really,  I urge you to look for a beacon of hope, something to hold fast to, be it a God, a loved one,  or a personal goal, just hold on and come out of Darkness with me June 28-29th.

Carry On

I'm letting go. I am not one to hold a grudge, and truthfully can't blame anyone for what has happened. Is it fair? No. It's not fair for me and not fair for my family, but we will survive. Yes, I was let go, fired, while out on disability. I can't collect unemployment, I'm in no shape to find a new job just to have the same situation occur again, and I am even limited in the things I can do around the house. 

I need to get my RA under control and then I can find a job again.

 In the meanwhile, I'm brainstorming things I can do, crafts or maybe services I can provide to earn my keep. Hubby says we can survive on one paycheck, but we were barely getting by when we had two, so I know he is just trying to be supportive or something like that. I thought about my knitting or even jewelry making, but my hands are really sore, so it wouldn't be a good idea. I could watch kids again, but my dr appointments and my bad days would not be fair to parents relying on me, not to mention that I can't even lift up a quart of milk without pain, let alone an infant or toddler. 

So there is two other things that crossed my mind that I'd like to try. The first one needs a lot of research before I jump into it, but I like the idea. I thought about making my own homemade organic vegan friendly soap. I have the herbs growing in my garden, I have a few marketing connections, and there has been a growing demand for these types of products, I just need to ensure that I can do it right, and well enough to make a quality product. 

Second, I have a talent for drawing fun animated characters and making up silly stories for the kids that typically result in a  lesson on morals. Why not try my hand at children's books. I've jotted a few ideas down and could probably write a series about one of the characters I typically use, I just need to research how to publish them and hope that my talent is as good as I've been told it is.

So although one door has been slammed in my face, I've turned around to see a room full of open windows. And so, I'm carrying on, and not looking back. 

Update

I might as well have been told to just deal with the pain. I got denied the ability to be able to work from home on an as needed basis due to the department I work in doesn't offer the work from home option. Even though 98% of my job can be done from home. So, no it's not a hardship and not unreasonable, they just won't do it. There are plenty of other departments that offer the ability to work from home on an as needed basis. Hubby's department allows him to work from home everyday, with an occasional day here or there that he needs to come in to meet with clients. 

So, I have to return to work ASAP or risk losing my job. I'm not sure if that is considered bullying, or job discrimination, or just me being a whiny little bitch, but it sucks all the same. Now I need to get a note from my doctor stating I am able to return to work, but of course now I am starting a new flare and this time it is affecting the wrists and my ability to drive. I will more than likely have to taxi it to work this week since the medication I am taking for the pain won't allow me to drive, and truly it hurts too damn much to turn the steering wheel. 

I honestly wish they could understand what it feels like, but you can't understand pain unless you feel it yourself. 

My last resort was to request a transfer to a department which would allow me to work from home, but I'm so pessimistic at this point, I don't know why I even bothered to ask. 

The best I can hope for is that I go back only to be fired due to this absence. Sure we will have no money again, but I'll be able to focus on getting the RA under control and getting a job that would allow me the ability to work from home as needed. 

Wish me luck. 

Well hello there!

Hi it's me again, your old friend who has ignored you for the last, oh, 8 or 9 months...sorry! Really, I am so sorry! I hope you will forgive me, as it's been a whirlwind of a few months.
Let's see since the last post, there has been death of a loved one, a new job, pain, son's birthday, more pain, I got married, pain, Halloween and daughter's birthday, lots of new pain, Christmas and New Year's, disabling pain, new diagnosis, tons of snow, and even more intolerable cut-my-arms-and-legs-off  pain. Ay yi yi! When will it end?!?!

Ok, so to start, Death in the family. In early August, we lost a great man at a young age (62), Hubby's father. He died of heart disease which has prompted Hubby to actually get serious about his health and cut back a little on the fatty stuff. My new mother in law stayed with us periodically while she adjusted to not having the love of her life to say hello to every morning. It was a great thing having her with us to help get the kids ready and off to school, she cooked and cleaned and our house looked amazing for the time that she was here. However, it was hard because we didn't know how to comfort her. Their love was a rare thing, they met in Vietnam during the war, fell in love, war ends, he gets sent back home, honorable discharge, but can't find the means to get back to his love. He worked hard, built a life as a union worker, making minimum wage but saving every dime, to get back to his love and bring her home. He finally managed to get back to Vietnam, but he didn't speak a word of Vietnamese, or at least not enough to say, I am trying to find so and so. For two days he traveled all around the area he met her at, with a picture of her, going into local businesses and showing the picture asking if anyone knew her. He was on the verge of giving up, when low and behold, her brother saw him and recognized, "the american". He brought hubby's father home to hubby's mom and they lived happily ever after. Now that my dears, is a true love story.

There has been a few birthdays too! Babe is now 5, Love is now 7. I can't believe that it was 8 years ago that I found out I would be a Mom. Crazy, now I'm finally a wife too! I convinced hubby to get married. We did it quickly before he could change his mind. We had 7 guests, and it cost us a whopping 25 bucks! :) I don't regret a single minute of it. I don't think I would really want a huge wedding with the stress that surrounds it. Lord knows I have enough stress going on.

I started my new job in August, and my RA stayed controlled with steroids, but they really messed up my female health and I still was in a bit of pain with baker's cyst in both knees. I paid for out of pocket insurance since my job didn't provide benefits until after 90 days. However, due to the whole pre-existing condition BS, they didn't cover a single thing that I did. Bloodwork turned up with low hemoglobin, high platelets, and an ultrasound showed an enlarged spleen. I was told that it was the C word.

 I saw an oncologist, who ran more bloodwork and tests and considered it was just a symptom of the RA plus iron deficient anemia. I was put on iron for two weeks and followed up with him only to find that the iron supplements only raised my hemoglobin slightly. He upped my dosage of iron and I kinda felt better. My next follow up was at the end of November, and although I had new insurance that would cover it, I had just gotten written up at work and was determined to not lose my job, so I pushed my health aside and just worked, but the pain got worse. My knee had become so swollen, that the mere act of walking was just enough to make me breakdown in tears and pray for a quick death. I thought, I have 50 more years of this pain and it's only going to get worse. No medication was working, and even the thought of leaving the kids wasn't enough to make me want to live. I figured that having no mom was better than having a mom who couldn't even hug them without pain. I saw my rheumatologist, who put me on enbrel. I had relief for 4 weeks, then suddenly, I went to bed a little sore on a Thursday night, and woke up on Friday morning to find that my legs would not move.

I had just gotten written up again the day before and was determined to get to work on time. I skipped the shower, skipped the coffee, got to work at 8:30 on the dot, only to not be able to get up out of the car.

I cried.

 For 45 minutes I sat with my car door open trying to get out and just cried. Embarrassed, angry, depressed, and ashamed, I was about to just go home, give up, call out and get fired. Instead, I texted hubby and he had one of his co-workers come out to help. I still cried all day, the whole 8 hours I was at work. Every move hurt. Answering phones required stretching my arm, which was locked in it's place. I gave up. I wanted to drive my car off a cliff instead of going home. With an RA flare, suicide is a constant thought.

From that day until about 3-4 weeks later, everyday was a struggle, but I was never late to work again. My scorecard was 100%, and I was determined to prove myself. But pain defeated me. I called out of work the day after Presidents Day, and again the day after that.

I called my Rheumatologist for an emergency appointment, but it would be during the day the following week. I would need to call out again and be written up again. So I saw my family doctor instead. She put me on amitriptyline for the Fibromyalgia as well as some tylenol 3's for the pain. She wanted me out on disability to give me time to get this flare under control.

 So I called up work and let them know the situation. But I'm not protected under FMLA. I haven't been there a year yet. I had to fill out a personal leave of absence form, which my supervisor didn't approve. Even with a note from the rheumatologist stating that I was seen and had a procedure done. (He drained my knees and gave me cortisone shots in both, which only helped for a few days)

 Now, under the ADA, they have to provide me with some sort of "reasonable accommodation". So I have this new form to fill out in hopes that we can negotiate something. I discussed it with my doctor and we came up with something that I hope will work out. I think it is very reasonable to allow me to work from home on days where it is too difficult to come in, considering that the same company allows hubby to work from home full time, and majority of my job doesn't require me to be in the office. So pray that works out.

In the interim, I have stopped the Enbrel, as the Rheumatologist ran blood work and confirmed that it wasn't working. So now I am on Plaquenil, but I haven't seen any improvement yet. It does take a few weeks for it to take effect, so just keep your fingers crossed that this one works.

Grr, arg! Another rant.

Trying to walk in the shoes of the sick and afflicted while breathing freely and prancing in all your fine health, is no easy task. A task I felt no one was even willing to attempt to understand. The world of Rheumatoid Arthritis is relatively new to me, only being diagnosed 7 years ago. Yet, jobless and insurance-less (thus untreated), it has very much consumed my life for the last few years. I’ve been more fortunate than others, in that I have a network to reach out to for help. One that for two years helped me significantly more than one could hope, yet I had reached my crippled hands out at their worst only to find an unmoving stone wall, blocked by fear of harmful drugs and expensive therapies, ones that were expensive enough to ensure my children wouldn’t be able to go to college if they wanted a mom to be able to walk with them through childhood. That wall did me in. The choice of my children’s future verses my own health for my children’s present was the debate I woke with and the question that plagued my dreams for 7 months. Who was more paramount in my mind, what did I have to live for, what amazing people could they become even if it meant I couldn’t be by their sides?

Yes, I have a disease which has plagued millions, and will continue to plague the world until we are gone. Modern medicine has turned this disease into nothing to baulk at, unless you are without health insurance and jobless and severely depressed and have lost all hope.  I was at my wit’s end. Calling in my inner Charlotte Anna Perkins, I wanted to end the pain. Surely this is no way to live the remainder of one’s life, being so severely depressed, unable to dress myself let alone think I may one day hold a job and be able to afford to get out of pain, I was ready for desperate measures. Luckily, I didn’t get so dramatic. I was still sensible enough to fight, and this was ONLY Arthritis for crying out loud. Instead, I decided on a trip to a doctor using our only grocery money available for 3 weeks, and found I was not dealing with the Rhuematoid Arthritis but Lyme’s disease, and it wouldn’t cost too much to cure it. (Or So we thought) I’m at a debt of $6,000 and counting with in just a few weeks in hopes to rid myself of pain and the depressing thought of ending the pain simply and quickly. I’ve had 2 good weeks out of 4, a good percentage compared to where I was just 4 weeks ago. I am getting better, but so slowly. Once I’m out of steroids, I’ll be in pain again but hopeful not so much pain.

What could possible help me more than anything right now? A job. I am getting angry and bitter about being jobless because I have been trying everywhere, everything, yet I’m “not good enough” all over again. Who can tolerate all this rejection and not be affected by it? Who can sit around and be told for 3 months that, yes, you will be given a formal offer of employment once we get approval from upper management. (Come to find out that company just had to cut their staff, 175 jobs gone!)   Why interview someone for a position you are not ready to hire for? Bitter. Yes. I’m very bitter at this point. If I had been hired within a month of the interview that 3 people advised me had “gone very well” I would have been insured for 2 months already. I wouldn’t have had to sell the last item I had in my name, I wouldn’t  be blowing grocery money on getting myself better, I wouldn’t be $6000+ in debt right now.  

I tried not to focus on the “if only” and the” could have been”, all the negative thoughts. Then there is the staffing agency that promised me a quick job, temporary, no benefits, but hey, it’s a job….6 weeks later, still nothing and now phone calls aren’t being returned and I can’t seem to get through to the recruiter that is supposed to be helping me. Apparently, she slotted me into a position with the same company that I’ve been waiting on for 3 months, and she can’t submit me for any other position because she is waiting on them. If I withdraw my candidacy, I look bad in the eyes of the company and potentially lose a good position.

I’ve applied at countless number of places and haven’t gotten any other bites. I know the industry I am familiar with isn’t stable, but PLEASE, I need a job, my health and children depend on it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Update, I'm back! :)

I am back…for a quick second. I last updated that I’ve been feeling pretty depressed, I was truly on the verge of something dramatic. I talked to my doctor about uping the meds, but it didn’t seem to help. I tried to hold on, saying that once I get a Job, and get rid of all the pain I was in, that maybe I wouldn’t feel quite so hopeless. Everyday, I woke up crying, cried about 20-50 random times per day, and fell asleep crying. Hun tried to be supportive, but it put a lot of stress between us. He knew that even getting a random job at a supermarket or  a fast food place was out of the question because of the pain I was in, but we needed money and he was the only one bringing it in as of March. One day, after carrying me down the stairs as tears streamed down my face because of the pain, he broke down too. He was actually proposing to run off the the court house to get married that week so I could get on his insurance…which is completely against what we have planned. I broke down and decided to make an appointment with my doctor to see about getting real good pain meds. (For the last 2 months I had been taking 8 Tylenol or 4 Aleve at a time, multiple times per day with no relief) I hobbled into her office and she asked how long I had been that bad? 2 months I told her, but I have been having the random soreness since October just not constant, it was a daily constant pain since April. She asked a few more questions and said “It’s not your RA. You got Lyme’s.” (She is a family friend and a sweetheart through and through)  Turns out nearly every medical complaint I have been putting up with for the last 6-8 months has really been because of one thing. A Tick! A little teeny little bug must have bitten me at some point during autumn or summer last year and given me Lyme’s Disease. I have to say though, I’m relieved it is just Lyme’s Disease and not a million other problems that I thought it could be, like my RA getting worse.

So I’ve was put on Doxycycline, which caused me to have a thing called “Herx” reaction, or something. From what I can understand, the Lyme bacteria is dying and thus releasing toxins in my blood causing my body feel 10x worse as if that was even possible! Finally after waking up from a nap unable to move without pain, I called my doctor again who sent me to the ER. They gave me Prednisone, a muscle relaxer, and a mild pain reliever. I left feeling much better and stayed better for the week I was on Prednisone, but now, not so much. I am sore but not nearly as bad as I was, so I’m tolerating it for now.

So Lyme’s Disease caused my depression, and since that little bugger is being killed off in my system, do feel happy again, not wholly, but soon enough I’ll be back to my good old happy self.

Truthfully Speaking..

***this is sort of a bitch rant that I wrote a few days ago. I wasn't going to post it, but YOU the reader, should know that I'm not in a good place. I'm more positive now that I will get out of it, but read the below and see how bad it got. Please note, this is not a cry for help. I have no intention of hurting myself or anyone else. I kinda got this shit handled. Kinda.



Fairy tales in reality rarely have happy endings, because fairy tales aren't reality. Truthfully, fairy tales are just words put together to put a child to sleep at night, Not to be used as a life quest.
Yet, we do it, we search for happily ever after, then settle for the happily for now. Our happy highs directly impact our misery lows, thus the happier you are now, the more depressed you'll be when you are down.
I was really, really over the moon happy a few weeks ago, so needless to say, I'm not  having a great day or week, well, month. I am at an all time low, and I don't know if I have the strength to climb out of this one. Definitely not on my own, yet there seems to be no one that I want to turn to this time. There are plenty of people who would jump to my rescue with a hug and some kind words, but what I really need is time alone to reflect, time to take out the noise of the world listen to the silence of loneliness and get back to that centered, balanced point, where nothing is perfect, but I'm ok with it.
I think it seems easy enough, but then I think, really, what is the point of it all?
I get help, I get better, I'm at that happy point, until my meds stop working, or maybe people just become more assholey, and I am back to the deep depression. It's an endless cycle. I really didn't exaggerate the fact that depression doesn't just go away. It haunts you everyday, even when you think you got the right meds. At some point, I'm going to give it up. At some point, I'm going to work up the courage to say good bye to my children and family for the last time and just let go of it all. If it weren't for my children, and my fear of damaging them by abandoning them, I might have succeeded at some point already.
Which is what I want to do now, but instead find myself sitting in my car in the way back of an empty parking lot, with no immediate plans, other than to write this and cry for the next 30 minutes or so.
Then what, go back to my family and pretend that life is all about happily ever after? Probably. Hopefully, I get good news this week on the job front, which would give me benefits, and a good doctor to help me sort it out. Otherwise, if someone has a cabin deep in the woods far away from everything, let me know if I can borrow that shit for a weekend

In My Life, I've Loved You More

I have been sorting and cleaning through old items, journals, and pictures this week. Not that I have really saved much since I went through a period last year in which I felt the need to throw away all the things I had been holding on to for memories sake. However, luckily something wonderful survived that purge. My journal from 10-16 years old. In it was birthday memories, forgotten friends, and best of all, my poems and short stories that I had written during that period, ones of happier times, before the darkness of depression consumed my thoughts and words. One particular story, The Friendship Tree, was based off my experience of moving to a new school in 3^rd grade. For a full year, I had no school friends. (I had one good friend who lived behind us, but she was in 2^nd grade). During recess,  I shyly watched all the other kids play, wishing for the courage to try to join them. I had a few instances in which I’d join in, only to feel even more left out than before. Standing there waiting for someone to kick the ball my way, or tag me, when no one ever did, I felt invisible.

According to this story, I spent a lot of time on the swings, or climbing trees. One day, I noticed a group of girls running around way back in the trees, like a secret group. I watched carefully as they played every day, finding out what they would play, never really figuring it out. 3^rd grade ended and still I lacked the courage to join in. Sure enough, 4^th grade came around, one of the girls was in my class that year, noticed that I was alone and asked me if I wanted to join them. I smiled and came over, expecting to be invisible again, instead I was given a secret Indian name, and thus was inducted into the Indian club.  (Although sometimes it was the American Girls Club or something else.) These girls became my friends, and best friends during that year all the way up to 8^th grade. Without having met them, I don’t know where my life would be, but I’m thankful, they’ve had a part in helping me to grow up to the woman I am today. Really, I tell it so much better in the story written by a 16 year old me.  I should actually just post that, but I’m wondering off from where I want this blog to go.

These friends, started out as 12-15 girls, by the end of 4^th grade we were down to 8- 10 girls, and each year we lost a few more to other cliques, but there were 4-6 girls who I felt inseparable from. We would sit with each other every day in grade school, meet for sleepovers, bowling trips, mall trips.  We did girl scouts together, and joined school clubs together, all the typical BFF stuff. It was these girls that taught me how to do a cart wheel, flip on a trampoline, and tried to teach me how to dive during one summer.

High school changed us, the group of 6 split into 3 different groups, one going off to a much larger clique, myself and another friend heading off into another smaller clique, while 3 others stayed together and found another girl who matched more who they were trying to become. Out of High School I had a whole new set of friends who I was able to go wild and find trouble with. I had one friend from the original 6, who despite the fact that we were constantly changing and so different from each other, and never really in the same place in our lives, somehow managed to stay friends with each other. Until, a fatal car crash tore her away from me almost 10 years ago. Her birthday is coming up on Monday, she would have been 31.

I have had so many friends along the way, friends that I had felt just as close with, but it is her that I long to have back, because she was the only one who knew how crazy I had become, and didn’t care. She didn’t walk away. She had friends who were richer, and cooler, and more stylish than me, but that didn’t matter to her. She was the one who invited me to the play by the tree, she stuck by me from that day on. I recently had a dream about her, one in which she was just in a coma for the last 10 years and it was my job to re-introduce her to the world. It was the best dream ever because I had my best friend back, and we were up to all of our old shenanigans, but when I awoke, it was with the heartache of loss all over again. Ugh, this wasn’t supposed to be a sad blog, and I drifted again.

So, my point was, these friends of mine, whose paths have drifted so far from where we all started, are now all my Facebook friends, all mothers and wives, mostly on the same path, maybe a little different. Although we aren’t close enough to be BFFs again, I’m glad to have them back in my life, even if it’s just electronically.