I had a nice relaxing Christmas yesterday. I spent the morning snuggled in bed listening to Christmas music on the radio. Then, Mom and I spent the afternoon at the movies. We watched, "Cheaper By The Dozen" and "Somethings Gotta Give" and laughed all afternoon. Afterwards, we drove around and looked at Christmas lights before heading back to Mom's house to open gifts and call friends.
Not a very eventful Christmas, but relaxing and very enjoyable. It was much better than all of those years growing up spent getting up before dawn and keeping to a schedule of opening presents, posing for pictures, and traveling to see relatives... not getting home until long after dark. I dreaded Christmas Day as a child, instead looking forward to the day after Christmas.
Mom and I spent last Christmas at the movies too and enjoyed ourselves thoroughly. I don't remember what we watched, but I do remember laughing the afternoon away. It's a good way to spend the day.
Friday, December 26, 2003
Thursday, October 2, 2003
Walking In Someone Else's Shoes
They say you should never judge someone until you've walked a mile in their shoes...
I'm not sure why I was thinking of that today, but I was. And I was remembering an experience five years ago that really brought this concept home in a big way.
I was 25 and had my wisdom teeth removed. No big deal. Instead of vicodin, I was given Darvocet for the pain. I'd never taken darvocet before, but it killed the pain and I didn't think much of the weird dreams I started to have. By the third day of taking the medication, the dreams had become terrifying nightmares that refused to go away even when I woke up. It was then that I had my first true understanding of why mental health patients who see things and hear voices harm themselves. Suddenly, jumping off of buildings or running through plate glass windows to escape the demons pursuing me made perfect sense. I quit taking the darvocet immediately and for the next 8 hours I stayed in the house, in familiar surroundings, talking to myself and reassuring myself that the things I was seeing weren't real and would go away as soon as I got the medication out of my system. It was terrifying.
I was right about the hallucinations going away in a few hours. And that was when I understood that you can't understand until you've been there.
I have a whole new respect for mentally ill people who have hallucinations. The very few steps I took in their shoes taught me that it takes an incredibly strong person to live with mental illness. I don't think I'm strong enough to survive with permanent hallucinations. I thank God that this particular cross has not been mine to bear.
I'm not sure why I was thinking of that today, but I was. And I was remembering an experience five years ago that really brought this concept home in a big way.
I was 25 and had my wisdom teeth removed. No big deal. Instead of vicodin, I was given Darvocet for the pain. I'd never taken darvocet before, but it killed the pain and I didn't think much of the weird dreams I started to have. By the third day of taking the medication, the dreams had become terrifying nightmares that refused to go away even when I woke up. It was then that I had my first true understanding of why mental health patients who see things and hear voices harm themselves. Suddenly, jumping off of buildings or running through plate glass windows to escape the demons pursuing me made perfect sense. I quit taking the darvocet immediately and for the next 8 hours I stayed in the house, in familiar surroundings, talking to myself and reassuring myself that the things I was seeing weren't real and would go away as soon as I got the medication out of my system. It was terrifying.
I was right about the hallucinations going away in a few hours. And that was when I understood that you can't understand until you've been there.
I have a whole new respect for mentally ill people who have hallucinations. The very few steps I took in their shoes taught me that it takes an incredibly strong person to live with mental illness. I don't think I'm strong enough to survive with permanent hallucinations. I thank God that this particular cross has not been mine to bear.
Thursday, September 18, 2003
Faith
Faith in God. The past two years haven't made this easy. I think my most frequent response has been, "Yes God, I have faith. Now, could you please HURRY UP!"
Patience isn't exactly one of my strong points, but I'm learning. Just as I'm learning to have faith.
I'd pretty much stopped talking to God before the accident. I mean REALLY talking. I kept in touch, but it was more of a, "Thanks for that & now can I have this," kind of dialogue. So, for the past two years I've been learning to talk to the only real father I have all over again. I'm still not great at it, but we're really talking again and I feel like we're closer now. I feel selfish when I tell Him what I want, but He says He wants to know and I'm not throwing any temper tantrums. I'm just sharing my thoughts, saying what I'd like, and leaving the rest up to Him. I still wish He'd hurry up though!
Patience isn't exactly one of my strong points, but I'm learning. Just as I'm learning to have faith.
I'd pretty much stopped talking to God before the accident. I mean REALLY talking. I kept in touch, but it was more of a, "Thanks for that & now can I have this," kind of dialogue. So, for the past two years I've been learning to talk to the only real father I have all over again. I'm still not great at it, but we're really talking again and I feel like we're closer now. I feel selfish when I tell Him what I want, but He says He wants to know and I'm not throwing any temper tantrums. I'm just sharing my thoughts, saying what I'd like, and leaving the rest up to Him. I still wish He'd hurry up though!
Tuesday, September 16, 2003
Priorities
Rocco had me laughing out loud this morning. Usually he walks to the truck with me when I leave for work and I give him a few cookies. This morning he was off exploring and missed the routine. I left anyhow. As I was heading out the driveway, I saw Rocco in the rear view mirror racing to catch up. When I stopped, he came up to the driver's side and sat down, giving me a look that clearly said he wanted his cookies. When I handed them to him, he ran back to the house. No requests for luvins or begging to go with me. He didn't even pause between snagging the treats and taking off! At least he knows how to prioritize.
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