"Well just let me know what day of what week works best for you, and no, gambling is the dumbest thing ever. If I'm going to give my money to someone they're going give me a bag full of stuff."
That was the last email I sent to an old friend I had just reconnected with at the end of January. It had been over 20 years since we had seen or spoken to each other.
I was trying to find her through classmates.com and we each logged in so infrequently that out messages were too few and far between to actually get any information. In January I received a Twitter message saying my friend was following me and we communicated via Twitter and email for a few days and then she came to my house that Sunday evening.
We talked for a few hours and it was amazing the similarities in our families. She has a gay son, I have a gay son. She has a daughter dealing with a drug problem, my daughter had worked through her drug problem. Her ex was an asshole substance abuser who didn't participate in his childrens' lives and so was mine.
Eventually the talk turned to the man she has spent the last 15 plus years with. He is older than her and is very wealthy. I have to say I am a tad jealous that she can and does have any material item she wants.
Don't get me wrong, I don't dream of receiving expensive gifts from anyone and certainly not from an old friend's companion who I never met, so I'm sure I didn't send out any negative vibes.
But, for a few days following her visit, and after a number of lengthy and chatty emails between us we mentioned getting together again. She asked if I'd been to the new casinos in Pittsburgh and would I like to go. She also mentioned that she was busy the upcoming weekend, so my response was; Well just let me know what day of what week works best for you, and no, gambling is the dumbest thing ever. If I'm going to give my money to someone they're going give me a bag full of stuff.
I've never heard from my friend again. She never replied to that email or a another that I sent, and never returned a phone call.
I thought maybe I sounded curt considering the other emails were long. I considered I sounded insulting because I don't want to gamble. I thought maybe I sounded pissed because she couldn't get together that weekend. I pulled this email up 3 or 4 times and re-read it, and I just don't get it.
This woman spent the last 5 years studying to be a writer so if she got all butt hurt over a simple email then she better go study some more because even I know a sentence can be perceived 5 different ways by 5 different people.
At first I was feeling guilty and confused, but after four months, I'm just pissed. Still confused, but no more guilt.
Monday, June 14, 2010
Saturday, April 17, 2010
Menopause...check
I realized I have recently completed another chapter in my life because I actually get cold and it’s uncomfortable.
This time last year I would wake up having kicked my blankets off and my skin would be cold to the touch. If someone would walk in and touch me they would have thought I was dead. That cold felt wonderful to me. Being cold felt great!
I heard women say no one talks about menopause. I don’t know why. Is it some secret? Why are people so afraid of discussing things that come along with aging? I’m 50 years old for God’s sake. My hair turned gray, my skin got wrinkles and women go through menopause.
It’s a natural progression and there shouldn’t be anything ugly or scary about any of it.
I was younger than average when I started having pre menopausal symptoms. I was 42 years old and I just ended a long term relationship so I was taking birth control pills. After a couple months of suffering strange monthly headaches I realized they only occurred the week I was not taking the pill. The pill was working like hormone replacement therapy. When I stopped taking it, I stopped having regular periods. For that matter, I’ve had maybe two periods in the last 8 years. I’ve had zero periods in the last four years.
Hallelujah! I haven’t missed it one little bit.
Hot flashes? Not for me. What I had would be described as intolerance of warm. I was too warm all the time. It didn’t take much for me to break out into a sweat. My thermostat was set at 68 degrees in the winter while I was awake and down to 58 at night. If I was cleaning or working I’d have to drop the temperature in the house until I was done and showered.
Summertime was miserable. I couldn’t move without sweating so if the A/C wasn’t on I was immobile
Sometime this January I realized I was kind of chilly in my house. I could be under my blankets at night and my feet were cold. Walking the dog wearing a thermal sweatshirt had always been normal as long as it was over 32 degrees outside. Now I was freezing my ass off and needed to wear the puffy down coat even when it was over 40 degrees.
I was cold at work. I needed to drink hot coffee and hot tea to warm up and doing so didn’t make me break out into a sweat.
So now I get cold when I would normally be warm. I’m uncomfortable when I’m cold when I used to welcome the chill. After over 8 years it certainly is different. I’m curious to see how I’m going to feel this summer.
This time last year I would wake up having kicked my blankets off and my skin would be cold to the touch. If someone would walk in and touch me they would have thought I was dead. That cold felt wonderful to me. Being cold felt great!
I heard women say no one talks about menopause. I don’t know why. Is it some secret? Why are people so afraid of discussing things that come along with aging? I’m 50 years old for God’s sake. My hair turned gray, my skin got wrinkles and women go through menopause.
It’s a natural progression and there shouldn’t be anything ugly or scary about any of it.
I was younger than average when I started having pre menopausal symptoms. I was 42 years old and I just ended a long term relationship so I was taking birth control pills. After a couple months of suffering strange monthly headaches I realized they only occurred the week I was not taking the pill. The pill was working like hormone replacement therapy. When I stopped taking it, I stopped having regular periods. For that matter, I’ve had maybe two periods in the last 8 years. I’ve had zero periods in the last four years.
Hallelujah! I haven’t missed it one little bit.
Hot flashes? Not for me. What I had would be described as intolerance of warm. I was too warm all the time. It didn’t take much for me to break out into a sweat. My thermostat was set at 68 degrees in the winter while I was awake and down to 58 at night. If I was cleaning or working I’d have to drop the temperature in the house until I was done and showered.
Summertime was miserable. I couldn’t move without sweating so if the A/C wasn’t on I was immobile
Sometime this January I realized I was kind of chilly in my house. I could be under my blankets at night and my feet were cold. Walking the dog wearing a thermal sweatshirt had always been normal as long as it was over 32 degrees outside. Now I was freezing my ass off and needed to wear the puffy down coat even when it was over 40 degrees.
I was cold at work. I needed to drink hot coffee and hot tea to warm up and doing so didn’t make me break out into a sweat.
So now I get cold when I would normally be warm. I’m uncomfortable when I’m cold when I used to welcome the chill. After over 8 years it certainly is different. I’m curious to see how I’m going to feel this summer.
Thursday, January 7, 2010
I'm Worse Than a Non Smoker, I'm an Ex Smoker
While trolling around Myspace and Facebook, I’ve come upon a few people trying to quit smoking. This is one thing, maybe the only thing in my life that I have had complete success in accomplishing.
Ten years and 23 days ago, I walked into my doctor’s office and was given a prescription for Zyban. I don’t think there was a generic version of this drug available then, so I paid full retail price of about $100 for a one month supply. Ten years ago, $100 for 60 pills was a lot of money. Cigarettes cost between $25 and $30 per carton. I was smoking 3 or more packs a day so I was paying somewhere around $60 to $70 per WEEK on cigarettes. The price of Zyban was a bargain compared to what I was paying for cigarettes.
I went straight to the drug store and got my pills and a bottle of juice. I ripped open both and took my first pill in the car before I even read the directions. When I got to work and read the pamphlet that came with the Zyban and saw the part where I was supposed to choose a quit date for two weeks from then, I knew that wouldn’t work. That would have been Christmas Eve. I was being asked to quit an addiction during Christmas when I had a 13 year old, an 11 year old and a 9 year old home from school during the time I was supposed to quit smoking. I decided to take the pills anyway and see what happened after the New Year.
I didn’t have an ounce of faith that I could quit smoking
I said every day that I liked to smoke.
I didn’t really want to quit.
Zyban caused me to have the strangest dreams ever.
Zyban made my mouth so dry I was certain there was a 2 x 4 banging around in my mouth while I slept at night.
I realized I was smoking fewer cigarettes after two weeks of taking the medication.
I realized after taking the medication for three weeks, I could stop at the gas station and buy a pack of cigarettes that would last 3 days.
I realized that going from 3 packs a day to one pack every three days was pretty amazing and to give up would be the stupidest thing I’d ever done in my life.
I realized I can put up with anything for one month; including strange dreams and severe dry mouth.
I realized I hated the smell of cigarettes.
On January 7, 2000 I smoked my last cigarette. Stopping smoking was the easy part now,
What am I supposed to do when I’m stressed? Bored?
What am I supposed to do when I drink my coffee in the morning?
What am I supposed to do after I eat a meal?
What am I supposed to do while I’m driving?
What am I supposed to do while I’m drinking?
I realized that was a bunch of lame reasons to justify smoking a cigarette.
People who are sucking on a cigarette look really stupid.
People who are sucking on a cigarette smell horrible and cause the surrounding atmosphere to be unbearable for people who are not stupid enough to suck on cigarettes.
I’m embarrassed that I was one of those people.
What I know for sure is my health and life is better because I don’t smoke.
One more thing I do know for sure. Up until my children were 13, 11 and 9 years old, they witnessed me smoking cigarettes in their home, in the rooms they were playing, in the car they were riding. Ten years later, two of my children smoke cigarettes. I was the first person to bring that filthy habit into their lives. I was the first person that taught them how to smoke. I was the first person to pollute their lungs. I want to weep every time I think of what I’ve done. I will never forgive myself for being so selfish.
Ten years and 23 days ago, I walked into my doctor’s office and was given a prescription for Zyban. I don’t think there was a generic version of this drug available then, so I paid full retail price of about $100 for a one month supply. Ten years ago, $100 for 60 pills was a lot of money. Cigarettes cost between $25 and $30 per carton. I was smoking 3 or more packs a day so I was paying somewhere around $60 to $70 per WEEK on cigarettes. The price of Zyban was a bargain compared to what I was paying for cigarettes.
I went straight to the drug store and got my pills and a bottle of juice. I ripped open both and took my first pill in the car before I even read the directions. When I got to work and read the pamphlet that came with the Zyban and saw the part where I was supposed to choose a quit date for two weeks from then, I knew that wouldn’t work. That would have been Christmas Eve. I was being asked to quit an addiction during Christmas when I had a 13 year old, an 11 year old and a 9 year old home from school during the time I was supposed to quit smoking. I decided to take the pills anyway and see what happened after the New Year.
I didn’t have an ounce of faith that I could quit smoking
I said every day that I liked to smoke.
I didn’t really want to quit.
Zyban caused me to have the strangest dreams ever.
Zyban made my mouth so dry I was certain there was a 2 x 4 banging around in my mouth while I slept at night.
I realized I was smoking fewer cigarettes after two weeks of taking the medication.
I realized after taking the medication for three weeks, I could stop at the gas station and buy a pack of cigarettes that would last 3 days.
I realized that going from 3 packs a day to one pack every three days was pretty amazing and to give up would be the stupidest thing I’d ever done in my life.
I realized I can put up with anything for one month; including strange dreams and severe dry mouth.
I realized I hated the smell of cigarettes.
On January 7, 2000 I smoked my last cigarette. Stopping smoking was the easy part now,
What am I supposed to do when I’m stressed? Bored?
What am I supposed to do when I drink my coffee in the morning?
What am I supposed to do after I eat a meal?
What am I supposed to do while I’m driving?
What am I supposed to do while I’m drinking?
I realized that was a bunch of lame reasons to justify smoking a cigarette.
People who are sucking on a cigarette look really stupid.
People who are sucking on a cigarette smell horrible and cause the surrounding atmosphere to be unbearable for people who are not stupid enough to suck on cigarettes.
I’m embarrassed that I was one of those people.
What I know for sure is my health and life is better because I don’t smoke.
One more thing I do know for sure. Up until my children were 13, 11 and 9 years old, they witnessed me smoking cigarettes in their home, in the rooms they were playing, in the car they were riding. Ten years later, two of my children smoke cigarettes. I was the first person to bring that filthy habit into their lives. I was the first person that taught them how to smoke. I was the first person to pollute their lungs. I want to weep every time I think of what I’ve done. I will never forgive myself for being so selfish.
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Feelings
The last few years have been kind of rough on me emotionally. The beginning of 2009 I decided to try some depression medication. You don’t have to do much convincing now to get a prescription from a doctor and at the time the doc I was seeing was a pretty good one.
Believe it or not, I’m not big on popping pills. I quit smoking while taking pills, but I only took them for about 6 weeks. I take one fish oil capsule every day and from April through October I take allergy meds. I don’t get headaches. I don’t have aches or pains. I rarely get sick. I have no health problems.
I came to the conclusion that sometimes we humans need a little help and there’s nothing wrong with that as long as you know when to move on, so I’ve been taking citalopram for most of this year. The problems I was having were mostly related to the problems another person in my life was having and with the help of the medication I was able to detach myself from the situation.
When I was ready to stop taking the meds I called to make an appointment with my doctor only to find out he had moved to Oregon. This guy made it clear from the get go that taking this medication was temporary and was a way to get the brain back on track. The new doctor’s theory is if it’s working there’s no need to make any changes.
One of my flaws is that I think I know everything. There’s lot’s of time I totally ignore a doctor’s advice because I think he’s just full of shit. So when this guy acted like I was nuts because I wanted to come off these meds I took a step back and re-evaluated. After another month I decided that yes, he was full of shit and I started weaning myself off the meds.
I know I did it all wrong, and even though I do know the meaning of the word weaning…once I made up my mind, I forgot to take the pills. The effects were freakish and really uncomfortable and I wouldn’t do it that way again, but now that it’s done, I have noticed many things I didn’t realize before.
I thought the only effect was that I couldn’t shed a tear no matter how sad the situation. Turns out not only wasn’t I crying enough, I wasn’t laughing or dreaming or feeling enough either.
The first indication the drugs wore off were the flowing of tears and I didn’t even care because it felt good to feel again. Another early indication was waking up remembering having dreams. I usually don’t remember what my dreams are about, but I usually do remember having them. Now what the hell my ex husband was doing in the first two dreams I remember having isn’t anything I want to analyze but “he who shall not be named” hasn’t been in my subconscious mind since.
The best part so far is how I can just laugh my ass off. I having cracked up like this since March and it sure feels good.
I have to confess that all of the other “not so fun” emotions are back in full force too, but isn’t that what being human is all about?
So laugh, cry, dream, get pissed, frustrated, irritated, disgusted…it’s what we’re supposed to do.
Believe it or not, I’m not big on popping pills. I quit smoking while taking pills, but I only took them for about 6 weeks. I take one fish oil capsule every day and from April through October I take allergy meds. I don’t get headaches. I don’t have aches or pains. I rarely get sick. I have no health problems.
I came to the conclusion that sometimes we humans need a little help and there’s nothing wrong with that as long as you know when to move on, so I’ve been taking citalopram for most of this year. The problems I was having were mostly related to the problems another person in my life was having and with the help of the medication I was able to detach myself from the situation.
When I was ready to stop taking the meds I called to make an appointment with my doctor only to find out he had moved to Oregon. This guy made it clear from the get go that taking this medication was temporary and was a way to get the brain back on track. The new doctor’s theory is if it’s working there’s no need to make any changes.
One of my flaws is that I think I know everything. There’s lot’s of time I totally ignore a doctor’s advice because I think he’s just full of shit. So when this guy acted like I was nuts because I wanted to come off these meds I took a step back and re-evaluated. After another month I decided that yes, he was full of shit and I started weaning myself off the meds.
I know I did it all wrong, and even though I do know the meaning of the word weaning…once I made up my mind, I forgot to take the pills. The effects were freakish and really uncomfortable and I wouldn’t do it that way again, but now that it’s done, I have noticed many things I didn’t realize before.
I thought the only effect was that I couldn’t shed a tear no matter how sad the situation. Turns out not only wasn’t I crying enough, I wasn’t laughing or dreaming or feeling enough either.
The first indication the drugs wore off were the flowing of tears and I didn’t even care because it felt good to feel again. Another early indication was waking up remembering having dreams. I usually don’t remember what my dreams are about, but I usually do remember having them. Now what the hell my ex husband was doing in the first two dreams I remember having isn’t anything I want to analyze but “he who shall not be named” hasn’t been in my subconscious mind since.
The best part so far is how I can just laugh my ass off. I having cracked up like this since March and it sure feels good.
I have to confess that all of the other “not so fun” emotions are back in full force too, but isn’t that what being human is all about?
So laugh, cry, dream, get pissed, frustrated, irritated, disgusted…it’s what we’re supposed to do.
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