Time to Catch Up

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Hey there, everyone,

 

First of all: I made it into college. After some amazing coordination with the Office of Disabilities and admissions, I was granted residency status with a signed affidavit from my mother.

My fifth week of class is approaching and I have mostly settled into a groove. Some things are still choppy but it is getting there! Part of going to school meant getting internet and a new laptop so I could do all of my homework and assignments. Literally, I have been using my phone to work on Excel and type assignments on the old laptop using an on screen keyboard that sometimes worked. Plus it was sent to me by my ex. While most of the items from that relationship in my possession are being treated on a, “Voldemort,” basis – that laptop needs to go.

And by Voldemort, I mean – in the Harry Potter series a big component was fighting the fear of a name. “He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named,” and, “The Dark Lord.” But you shouldn’t show fear of a name. So fear of baseball cap. Disney pins I bought him but never got the chance to send. They do not send me into tears but I will not let them control my emotions and reactions. The key chain he bought me the last time he was here in Florida has been removed. A Stitch Pillow pet has been donated to the dogs.

He had cheated on me. How many times total… I do not know. But he lied when he did call to break up – citing mental health. However, Facebook always bites people in the ass. Especially if they are apparently not very intelligent. He let this new girl tag him as in a relationship since 3 AM, Christmas morning. But just didn’t make it visible on his page. We broke up on the 7th of this month. January.

Moving on. In both topic and chapter in my life. My life now resolves almost entirely around school. School, my pets, my parents and therapy. Not necessarily in that order. I do not have time to sew much anymore. Nor draw or paint. I hope to rectify that soon but I still have to figure out and learn proper time management before I can let that hobby take up time in my schedule.

I hope to be more active on here as time continues on. I have a very nice Asus Q552 to work on now so that should definitely help! I hated composing posts on my phone. Such a pain in the butt.

Everything, Yet Nothing

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A lot has happened and yet nothing has happened since my last post.

I did call the line at Cigna and ask for help. While I had expected to just talk to someone on the phone, they instead made an appointment for me with a therapist near by as it wouldn’t cost anything as part of the EAP program.

I believe it was a Friday when I called and the following Monday was the appointment. Her office was only eight minutes away. When you have to drive at least fifteen minutes to get to the closest gas station, that was mind boggling. Her office is actually a little shed, nice, with a wooden structure and windows. Oh, and A/C. That is very important. It is next to a set of stables that house two horses she uses as part of her practice.

We have met up for four appointments so far, once a week. And I really like her so far. There hasn’t been any hard hitting or focused plan but just discussing and learning about my illnesses.

I don’t really know what else to say. Things are stressful and keep being stressful. I’m waking up in the middle of panic attacks in my sleep. Crying every day.

When things change… I’ll let you know.

This post was drafted and published using the WordPress App for Android on my Galaxy S4. There are more than likely spelling or grammatical errors I may have missed before posting. Please forgive them, this is just a personal blog.

A lot of everything and a lot of nothing

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I am on very little sleep, a lot of physical and emotional stress. Basically, I have been in this state since my last post at the near end of January.

Since then my boyfriend had come and gone for a visit. I almost finished a dress. There were multiple mental breakdowns. I got a new phone as well a little over a week ago.

I was going to post about my latest project in next post but there isn’t much for me to say since I didn’t fully finish it. I need to only hem it and I do not know when I will be able to get to that. The main problem is for me that when I hem it the back when worn is actually two inches higher than the front thanks to my proportions and I do not know how to mark it for hemming by myself since when I lie it flat I do not know how to place it as the front needs approximately four inches off the front while the back needs only two inches.

I did fix those droopy pockets by hand sewing in three snaps inside the band area of each pocket. So, I am very happy about that.

Now, as for my mental health. It is up and down, up and down. So much rapid cycling. It can almost be guaranteed that I will get a very happy high and then within two hours I am crying and in pieces. It has been like this for maybe about a month a half?

My biggest breakdown was last Wednesday night after leaving the house for the first time in a long time and getting some much needed necessities. And free truffles! Ever since I came home from Atlantic City in November, I have been sleeping on my mattress on my floor.

I decided that night as the next day my new phone would be delivered, I needed to get my bed off the ground and move in a night stand that has been in the corner of the living room for ages.

The metal frame for bed was leaning against my wall all these months just waiting for when I could get a box spring to put my bed on. For some reason I thought I wouldn’t need a box spring! I could just place my mattress directly on the frame and it would be dandy! So, I spent over an hour cleaning and moving in the night stand (which is solid wood. I think Oak) and then piecing the two metal pieces for the frame together. I wrestle the bed even with my very weak stature as I hadn’t eaten yet that entire day besides one of the free truffles and manage to place the mattress on the frame.  Where I quickly remembered you in fact do need a box spring otherwise your beg just sags to the floor as nothing supports the middle or sides of the bed.

I went to my father to ask for help carrying in the box spring I thought was just chilling in the back yard. I didn’t care if maybe it wasn’t exactly perfectly clean. I was on a high and was going to fix at least of my problems myself and get my bed off the floor dang it!

One problem. There was no box spring. Mom had already burned it a while back. It was pitch black at the time so I couldn’t exactly look out and see the lack of box spring presence.

That’s when I broke down. Sobbing and hyper ventilating.

I felt like I was failing at everything. I couldn’t solve a single problem on my own. Not even getting my bed off the floor. My boyfriend saved me by buying me a phone the day my phone went black and refused to turn on besides “Samsung” and black again. I was depending and begging my parents for food, tampons and anything. Sometimes going for days just eating sunflower seeds and drinking water because I was too prideful and/or ashamed of asking yet again for something.

Here I am at 23, living at home with no move out date in sight. Still not in school and cannot even hold a part time job. Can barely leave my house for goodness sake without shaking and panic attacks and imagining every horrible thing possible would happen while I was out. At home while I was away and happening wherever I was going.

Dad knocks on my door and tries giving me his bed set up which just set me off even harder. I could only say no over and over again. “I won’t take your bed. I won’t!” And rushing back to my room.

Eventually I found 2x4s and I cut them to size with my hand saw fitting them to the length of the frame. Then using duct tape to create support between the  cuts. Here is a very crude doodle of what I managed.

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I do my best to hide my breakdowns from Mike. I don’t usually succeed as he is very intuitive.  Though he has an easy cheat code. If he texts or says “Muah” and I cannot say it in return he knows something is up. For some reason whenever I am upset, “muah” will send me bawling. So I just sit there, swallowing and straining to not let the quiver free in my voice.

Then the last couple of weeks another one of our pack is reaching the end of her days. She had developed a rather nasty hip injury in her second and last litter approximately nine years ago. And now it has progressed to just too much for her to handle at almost fifteen years old. She cannot control her legs and cannot sit up or walk.

Now, I spend my days doing best to force myself to sleep as much as possible so I don’t have to go out when I am the only one in the house and find her passed away. I am a coward and I know it. About three or four years ago, when Angel’s mother, Matrix, passed away I was the only one home. I had to keep sending away the other dogs whom kept trying to get to her and sniff her and look at her.

It traumatized me. I do not handle death well. Add in the fact I can cry at anything at the drop of a hat…

Yeah.

And now I  at the point where I cannot sleep. Too stressed, anxious and scared that she is dead, or alive. It has been very cat in a box. She is dead and alive whenever I am not next to her. Watching her to see her breathe or twitch her ears.

As well last night a tom cat, HUGE, tom cat came after my cats in yard last night sometime around ten o’clock. So from now on we are going to keep the cats in the screen to connected to the car port at night. Where the heir food with be protected from raccoons, armadillos and apparently a ballsy tom cat. He gave no cares when I came flying out of the house. Just saunters right past me. Oh, yeah I chased and yelled at him.

“Out of my yard! Out! Out!  Away from my cats! Who the hell are you?! Out!!”

I am very light headed, shaky and spacy. I desperately need some portein.

Pho was on the schedule but as Mom and I were almost positive Angel would have slipped away by morning as she was not wanting to be inside. She would cry and cry if we tried carrying her.  And if we ignored them and carried her anyways,  she would start dragging her way back outside.

She was shivering so hard this morning.  Before she was refusing any blankets or towels we would drape over her and tuck her in. But this morning she was too cold to argue. I lightly warmed towels in the dryer and just kept rubbing her through a blanket til I could tuck the warm towel under the blanket.

While I was crouched next to her tucking her in, my phone fell out of my hoodie pocket. Maybe eight inches on the concrete and two corners Andre damaged now. On side is barely a scrape but the bottom right looks like someone took a light bite on a wooden pencil.

When Mike ordered the phone he also ordered one of those flip cases as well that snap onto the back. I have a Galaxy S4 by the way. And let me tell you, it did nothing. Just popped off and open so it landed on its face.

Grrrr.

Nine days! Nine days! The one time I get distracted and not hyper aware and bam. It could have been so, much worse but still. It really bums me out.

I am getting an OtterBox Defender case ASAP.

I hope I can get sleep sometime soon.

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This post was drafted and published using the WordPress App for Android on my Galaxy S4. There are more than likely spelling or grammatical errors I may have missed before posting. Please forgive them, this is just a personal blog.

Stitches and Hallucinations

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So, this happened yesterday. (I have to upgrade to upload videos. So please click the link. It is an Instagram video.)

Around the new year I slowly start picking up a sewing project again. It started out as a quilting project in December for my boyfriend that would feature the Hyrule crest.

At first I was staying up through the night and I simply waited for my dad to go to work early in the morning before moving in my rotary mats, basket of fabric and other supplies to simply trace the templates I made and get that part started while I watched TV and movies in his room on the floor.

Quickly though, it became apparent that I could only spend five minutes at the most hunched over before I had to lay back for another five to ten minutes while my back, neck, shoulders and wrists quieted down. As you can imagine I did not get very far in the scant hours I had to work on it.

At first I was using very old muslin fabric my mother had brought from my grandparents for since this was my first quilt and it is a rather involved project and was only going to be a “rough draft” the first go around.

But when I decided all that work shouldn’t go to waste and I was going to use extra fabric that fit the color scheme of my choice and make a quilt for me so I could practice and still use what I made.

Then I discovered my fabric was off grain. And no matter what my mom or I did, even with her fifty years (since she was ten) of working with fabric could we get it back on grain.

So I was frustrated.  In pain. And upset. I hadn’t even begun the piecing of the quilt top and here was quite the obstacle.

I distracted myself by mildly organizing (says the person diagnosed with OCD) and thoroughly cleaning my sewing room. That also involved organizing the absolute mess that was my patterns collection.

I still wanted to sew but I knew I honestly couldn’t handle the physical pain that was accompaning my trying to work on the quilt. I was funny to try deluding myself that it was limited to quilting at the moment. Rheumatoid Arthritis does not work that way.

Anyways. I have quite the hoarding of “silky types” from JoAnn sales that I never used because I was afraid of making a dress and then becoming so frustrated with one tiny issue (like the neckline gaping) and taking it apart and abandoning it.

But they aren’t high quality fabrics. Pretty but not fancy. And with me, if I don’t actually enjoy the fabric, and I don’t see myself wearing it because of that – I won’t do it at all.

So I went to a pattern I had already made previously, Simplicity 1687, a Project Runway pattern.

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This time I would be making it in a cream and soft jewle toned fabic that was quite shifty and sheer.

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                     Fashion Fabric

I spent the first day working on tracing the pattern (I always trace) and double checking to make sure I didn’t need to lengthen the bodice as well as address fitting issues I had encountered in the previous version. There was of course, a gaping neckline, gapping at the back above the zipper in the detail and the armscye is tight in the under arm. But gaped underneath. So, to clarify too high and tight on my armpit, but actually gaped away from my body.

These are fit issues with every “Big 4″ pattern that I am starting to learn how to address before the fact.

This time around I used an old cotton I had in the stash, my mother just refers to it as nightgown material, to make the upper bodice where the fit issues were.

I wish I had photos I could post, but I took them in my bra to true the fit and well, that isn’t going on the internet. That was for to reference going forward, only.

On the muslin, I pinch two long, thing darts angling softly down and to the sides at the neckline and moved in the side seam 3/8”. My first instinct was to go a full 5/8″ from the initial seam for the closest (comfortable) fit as I prefer my dresses fitted to shape. But, I wanted to factor in wearable ease and lining so I only shaved off 2/8″ from the fabric itself and will fit the seamline from there to what is most comfortable.
I however, forgot to adress the back bodice issue, so I may revisit that in a moment as I have plenty of fabric to recut the two small pieces.

Moving on.

I started tracing and cutting the fashion fabric by weighing it down with various object and taping the pattern pieces to the fabric itself with masking tape to eliminate and possible chances of it moving on me whatsoever. Keep that in mind. I was also tracing and cutting on the single layer.

But… something weird happened.

When I would after finishing tracing and transfering markings, I would remove the pattern pieces and then actually replace them best as I could to confirm I didn’t mess up.

But the tracing was entirely different from the pattern piece.

So I retraced.

And traced again.

And again.

Eventually I just gave in and cut everything out. Slowly. And quite painfully. I have a pair of I believe 7″ or 8″ knife edge left handed Gingher shears that I have worshipped for nearly a year if not more and they are heavy. Supremely heavy. And in need of sharpening and possibly an oil in the pivot points. Screws. However you prefer to refer to it. Anyhow, I was once again in pain. Cutting one piece at a time and wrapping my hand and wrist in a warm towel and resting between.

JoAnns had sent out coupons for a 15% off your total purchase through a text. I suggest if you frequent JoAnns, you sign up. The coupons are good and work with or without internet access. There was also a 5 for $5 pattern sale. I had a litrle bit of money so I figured why not check it out while there was a car available for a few hours?

First off, I wanted to check out the patterns. I only buy when they are 5/$5 and I knew the Early Spring catalog was out.

….it sucked. I spent twenty minutes going over that and even the winter catalog and I only picked out four patterns.  And I had to talk myself into getting all but one.

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View A/B

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View C/D

I checked out the notions. I got a seam gauge, some thread (my first spool of Gütermann!) an invisible zipper and I was going to look, just look at lining fabrics as my original choice feels like plastic-y to me.

So I was browsing and walking around and of course landed in the “silk types” aisle.

I was just feeling and touching the bolts as I passed them. If they were white they usually got a closer look as I couldn’t find any colors that really matched the fabric I was going to use.

Most of them had that same plastic-y feeling I was trying to avoid until one caught my eye. My finger? Touch? Attention. 

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I am trying to make a better practice of actually identifying the fabrics I purchase and use so I have made a habit of snapping a quick picture of the end caps on the bolts of fabrics I like.

I tried calling my mother to ask her opinion but she didn’t pick up the phone.

From what that says, I really hope this is peachskin that I have read about. It was a mental boost I really needed. Some girls buy shoes, I buy fabric.

Before during and after waiting in line to get the fabric cut, I was using a calculator to check, double check and  triple check that I was going to have enough money. This is something I always do when shopping.

While waiting in line I was right next the scissor and rotary cutter display.

I had been researching rotary cutters for the quilt for a couple weeks before I called a hiatus but I was planning on using them for quilting exclusively as I was worried as to my dexterity with using it around curves. And I knew that they weren’t available online exceot for a mark up on Amazon. The one’s I wanted at least. I wanted something with weight to it that would help sink into the fabrics thus requiring less effort from my joints.

And of course something geared towards southpaws. I don’t need left handed utensils but it sure is a lot easier and I have to actually think about what side I am cutting on which turns my dyslexia around and frustrates me.

The 45 mm left handed Gingher Rotary Cutter was disappearing and fast. Even on the wall at JoAnns it was on clearance. For nearly, if not slightly above half price.

I once again did the math, just the sure.

Tried calling my mom again.

Texted Mike and he called me.

He said if I had issues afterwards he would help me out. Not that I would let him but it was comforting to know he was willing to offer.

Anyways. I go home. Smiling and happy and excited.

Back to the tracing issue. Like I said, no matter how many times I traced, how much I weighed the fabric down or pinned, it never matched the pattern piece when the vellum paper was placed on top.

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             What is this madness?

However, when I placed the fabric on top of the pattern piece it magically lined up.

I took to Instagram and Twitter for assistance and no one knew what was going on.

So I just moved on.

Using the rotary cutter was like a dream. I still had back pain but no more having to wrap my wrist and hand up.

I have yet to cut out the lining fabric as I am unsure as to whether or not it is best to line or underline (ha, get it?) the dress.

Underlining would had more structure to the bodice but I want the skirt of the fashion fabric to be breezy and a lined skirt underneath for proprietary,  separately.

But now that I think about it… maybe it would be best to just treat the two as one. I dunno. Suggestions?

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And last night, when I was going to wind the bobbin with my new thread that matched the fashion fabric, it did it’s spazz out.

I called and spoke with the Viking Sewing Center in Sanford where I bought the machine a year and a half ago and she said bring it in, they will take a look but it sounds like it more than likely needs to be serviced.

Super bummer. Super duper bummer.

One thing about me, especially if you have been reading about my trials with mental illness, is when I become extremely upset or emotional – I go into a psychotic episode. I will start hallucinating and I did. After I had calmed down a bit and I was talking to Sassy, I tried going back and asking her about some of the things she mentioned but it was never brought up at all.

I was driving to get food and on the way home I could have sworn I saw a woman with two small chidren walking a Rottweiler down the middle of the highway. I pull up to the stoplight and they were no where to be found.

In my memory, I have never hallucinated actual people before. Animals, voices, monsters anything but people. It was definitely frightening.

I was so upset because I was really hoping to have this dress done by Sunday when Mike gets here. And now it is definitely looking unlikely. When I get an idea, and I let myself believe it is possible… I put everything into it  I count on it. I depend on it. It is now part of me, my schedule my future and when things don’t go the way I plan? It sends me reeling.

It sounds off but it is just one of my “issues. Just like my hallucinations. I cannot help it.

Anyways. That is where I am at today.

This was originally a sewing blog and now it is a whatever is on my mind blog.  This was entirely for me and my outlet and if you are willing to hop along for the ride, awesome. Nice to have you with me.

🙂

Drafted and posted using my Samsung Galaxy SIII. Please do forgive any typographical errors.

I Sit Here Waiting

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Listening to Lady Gaga on the office radio.

Nice.

I don’t even know the name of this song.

Love, love, love I want your love.

Oh. She just said it.

Bad Romance.

I’m surrounded by senior citizens in a doctors office listening to Lady Gaga belt out Bad Romance.

Does this strike anyone else as odd?

No?

Okay! How about this.

I cannot be trusted with scissors.

I had this seriously long errant thread on my dress that just had to go.

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Navy blue version of this dress

It drove me nuts the entire time I was Skyping with Mike. (Who made it safe for anyone wondering. After 48 hours of flying. More later.)

So after arriving at the doctor’s office for my first appointment with my new therapist, I asked at the check in desk if I could possibly use a pair of scissors really quick to cut it.
No worries, people. They had scissors.

However, she had to cut it.

Okay, then?

You do that.

Thankfully there was a lining to my dress and I could hike the lace overlay skirt over the counter for her to cut it. She didn’t even lean over or anything. Took her about seven tries to actually cut the string.

Yes, I am going to take those dull ass scissors and go ballistic up in this joint. The Lady Gaga was just too much and sent me right over that perilous edge.

Gah. There is a Disney resort mug I want to take a picture of but someone just sat in front of it.

Sass. I can never escape the place, can I?

I just listened to a mom explain to her child, that pollen is the stuff that makes people sneeze. As if it was just dust or something. On the same ranking as something that is made up dead hair and skin follicles

Her allergies must suck.

Onto more positive things, I guess.

Mike (gah, is it hard to not say Chairforce. It is even in my autocorrect dictionary!) landed safely like I said earlier. Took over forty eight hours of flying and that does not include layovers. I feel so bad for him.

Qatar is seven hours ahead and he Skyped me about twenty minutes before I was supposed to leave for my doctor’s appointment. But we did get to talk for about fifteen minutes before I left.

He has to walk a mile to do laundry.

Half a mile to use the bathroom.

And half a mile in a different direction to shower.

I feel bad for him but I know he is excited to get away and just kind of relax without school or Disney.

I’m home now. My head is screaming. I spent fifteen minutes just looking for Excederin.

Joan is the name of the therapist. She is tiny and up there in age. And I was correct. There was a reason they are referred by first name only. They are Licensed Social Workers, not a psychologist with a doctorate. Which in my ignorance didn’t realize were the therapists most people interact with. Did seem off. I asked about a psychologist, “we have those! Er. Not really.” Maybe she will be able to help?

Oh, my head hurts. Jeeze.

Anyways. I’m home. I have homework. I won’t be seeing Joan for another three weeks. The first available appointment. Like it is intense. Some of these social workers are booked past the first of the year!

Well, I have to go make dinner now. I hope everyone is well and doing great.

Posted from WordPress for Android. As much as I try to proof read, typos and grammatical errors will more than likely occur and I hope you can graciously forgive them and me.

Tiny Little Things

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So things are still on a downhill slope. Where do I start?

Let me disappear for a second and find out where I left you off.

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Okay. So to start off.

Work

Work is not happening. I have called in every shift for the last two weeks. I get severe panic attacks at just the thought and I cannot drive let alone for an hour to even try working the shift. Thus, I just give up – give in – and call in. There is no idea as to what is going to happen. I had an emergency visit with my psychiatrist to see if he could excuse me or put me on medical leave. He wrote a general excusal note but did not put me on medical leave. I only mentioned it the once and I guess he forgot to readdress it at the end of the appointment. The only thing that changed was I am now on Xanax twice a day and I was suggested to quit Disney and get a job that didn’t involve coworkers or patrons. Where the hell is that?

I have come to the conclusion that I feel like all of my medication is failing me. My emotions are no where near stable, my anxiety is out of control and my obsessive tendencies are on the rise.

So, I spoke with one of my managers Thursday night as I had a shift Friday just to see what should I do, what could I expect. And all he could suggest was to call Health Services and see if I cannot get an appointment with them and possibly have restrictions or medical leave induced.

Well.

I called.

And was denied assistance and was immediately transferred to a therapist who then immediately jumped into trying to force me into self committing myself into a ten day program.

I never mentioned suicide. Or any of my diagnoses besides my anxiety.

I was informed by another separate party that I could only be committed if I was suicidal. And I would never deny having suicidal thoughts. I do have those. But I have never attempted to act upon them or self harm in general.

So I just said I would speak to my parents about it and tried one more time for an appointment with Health Services and was once again turned down. After that, I simply ended the call.

While speaking with my Cigna Healthy Pursuits Coach, Becky, yesterday she helped me conclude that I don’t feel like I am in control. And when I don’t feel like I am in control is when I give up any control or stability I may have had left. She also suggested I go get a physical and see if maybe there isn’t anything physically wrong with me. That is an idea but the idea terrifies me. Beyond simple past experience, the money as always makes me jittery.

I have an appointment with a new psychologist tomorrow to see if that helps. “Joan”. I find it slightly funny. The psychiatrists are reffered to as Dr Last Name. The therapists are referred to by their first name. Which is very awkward for me. It seems very informal and slightly disrespectful.

Makes me wonder if they actually have their doctorates. The office does refer to them as therapists only as opposed to psychologists.

Outside of all this?

I was pretty fine.

I don’t know if any of you wonder why I haven’t named or even nick named my coworker turned friend since he has made his entrance to my posts. Well for one! His real name is so damn common I nickname all of them. Michaels. So many in the world. And another his nickname is one that would offend unless you know my military backstory with my family and our friendship. I call him Chairforce cause he is in the Air Force reserves. My family is Navy based. So… Chairforce.

I’ll call him Mike to limit the possible insult-ability.

So, Mike is a good friend. any chance he can he tries to get me out of my house. Distract me from everything going on and still push my comfort zones just that little bit to get me working on my anxiety a little at a time.
My friend Sassy doesn’t like that but we face our anxiety in two very different ways. And that is fine. We are two different people with different needs. After I explained it to her in a bit more detail she understood a little better.

He tended to call me every day during his drive to school from work and then from school to home. So he was hearing about everything that was going on first hand. Even as he is making his arrangements for his deployment to the desert he worries about his friends. My friend RL (red lipstick), has become slightly MIA amongst her own problems and he worries about her. He worried about me and even Sassy if she was having a bad day.

His solution for my anxiety was the last day before he left was to surprise me with a day… Somewhere.

Wouldn’t tell me where.

Or even when.

Just “you’re going to love it”.

Eventually he would give in and give me hints. Birds (he loves birds), I could get wet (so no dresses and wear a bathing suit), and it was in Orlando.

And there would be horses.

Horses? Where the hell are horses in Orlando besides Disney’s Triple D Ranch? And I know he wasn’t taking me to Disney.

Turns out it was SeaWorld. He bought me a day pass after we had some Dim Sum for breakfast.

He managed to talk me into going on all three rides (whoa) and feeding sting rays and dolphins. The dolphin feeding was easy and I really enjoyed it.

The sting rays?

Terrified me.

They felt weird.

They smelled.

And were… Kinda mean.

“Give me the shrimp! *splash*”

We did the entire park excusing the water shows in about four hours. Just spent the day relaxing and walking around.

We ended the night with dinner at the Turf Club. For once my drink somehow managed to be stronger than his. He almost always gets a rum and coke made with Bacardi 151. (Can I get an ick?) And I know now to order a mojito with Sprite. Somehow mine was stronger.

I now pinch myself when I didn’t buy his drink. It was going to be his last for at the very least a month and I should have after all he did.

One day I will do things when I should and not regret not doing them later.

Over all it was a good day.

Sassy will be here in 27 days.

Mike will be back in (hopefully) 35 days

My birthday is in 59 days.

I am trying to keep my head up and just take each day as it comes.

Posted from WordPress for Android. As much as I try to proof read, typos and grammatical errors will more than likely occur and I hope you can graciously forgive them and me.

We Have An Escapee On Our Hands

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Remember the dog I saved? We picked her up Wednesday!

It turns our her name is actually Kimber, not Timber but he said it was close it enough that it should be okay. So we kept it at Timber. It is sentimental since our very first wolf, Max, was a Timber wolf.

Back to photos of photos

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We learned that she is just over a year old and is part Husky, and part Great Pyrenees.

Now my family knows all about Huskies, Malamutes, wolves, and Pit Bulls. But never had we had a Great Pyrenees.

And y’all, I think I have a new favorite breed.

The previous family said she didn’t know any tricks or have any training beyond being house trained and it only took her an hour and a half to learn ‘sit’ and ‘stay’.

I ended up staying with her in her little area the entire day and night last night reading and playing Sudoku in one if the many Sudoku books we have.

Anytime I would leave my heart would break with the sound of her cries and scratching.

Timber, baby, I am sorry but I have to go to the bathroom!

After I got from a grocery run to Publix, I decided to let her downstairs with me if I blocked off upstairs while I cooked to ease her anxiety and allow her to smell the girls’ scent and place her own.

We plan to do a formal introduction Saturday but things… Kinda didn’t go according to plan.

But…

That went way better than planned. And Timber is a little escape artist. We have been slowing introducing her to the house and letting her get her set around for the dogs to scent. We have a partial pen with half the back yard connected to the laundry for her for now that is against Jelly and Angel’s pen. So she has been in the laundry room with the back door open with access to that second pen and the downstairs and the rest of the house for JB and Angel. Slowly move her to the downstairs part of the house with upstairs blocked off between the two of them while I cooked to stay with her. Finish cooking. Move her back to her first area and I sit down to eat. Half way into Modern Family. A bit white mass comes racing into the living room and jumps onto JB’s chair (directly next to where I was). Oh Jeeze. Let the circus begin. We have an escapee.