beyonditall.net

Its now September and fall is almost here.  On the 14th, I will celebrate my one year anniversary in Portland, Oregon.  Its been a bittersweet year for many reasons topped off with the loss of my grandmother a few weeks ago.  I will write about that in a future post.

Its hard to believe that we are now in the homestretch of 2010, 32 is around the corner and I still have MS (eye roll).  I’ve recently been reminded to set goals in my life.  Both short and long-term goals.  Time is neither going backwards or standing still and life will go on while I’m still in the hole or spacing out.  More on this later, but I hope everyone have a fun and safe Labor Day!

Tonight I realized the only way to get back to writing in my blog is to just write.  Thinking and planning isn’t going to get anything accomplished.  Its not a big surprise, but sometimes I forget!

Over the past few months, my plate has been very full.  Separating from my significant other after four and a half years have taken an emotional and physical toll on me.  Of course living in a new and unfamiliar area and being out of work on disability, etc doesn’t help the isolation factor.  Having not visited my family and hometown since I moved in September has me feeling out of sorts as well.  Hopefully travelling will be in the works this summer….or fall.  Making friends have never come easy for me, so I have to keep myself conscious of that need. I am slowly but surely building my network here in Portland.

Green and Chic still keeps me busy, but unfortunately not as busy as before. Coming up with new business strategies is my biggest challenge but I am determined to get it up and running again.  Moving, even locally took a lot of time away from the business.

My assignment now is to write down a list of short and long-terms goals.  Not think about it, do it.

Maybe I’m in denial, but I still cant believe 2009 has ended. A part of me still cant believe we’re already into the second decade of the 21st century.  I go though this at the end of every year: shock, sometimes panic and then anticipation as I head into the next year.  I know for many people, New Year Resolutions are overrated, but this is the perfect time for me to start.  Having just had an upgrade (birthday) in December from Carla 3.0 to Carla 3.1, it seems appropriate for me to make some changes – both minor and major over the next twelve months and beyond.

I would like to thank all my readers who’ve supported me since I started Beyond It All back in early spring.  I don’t have many posts so it would be a little redundant to do a bloggers style year end review post but you know where to find them.

Happy Near Year everyone!

Ever since my mother discovered the world wide web late last year, she has made it her duty to forward me every scary, alarmist email that’s sent to her from one of her buddies.  You know, the ‘boogie man is lurking behind the bush’ type emails that’s been forwarded about 40 times before it gets to you. These emails usually tells a brief story about a horrible crime that happened to a random woman, but somehow, you’re not able to find any evidence of this published anywhere.  Most of the time, I just ignore and delete these emails.  Sometimes I  research the stories so that I can respond to my mother telling her that its not true.  She then responds with a sigh of relief.

These modern urban legends may have a shred of truth, but they are mostly false and designed to scare the daylights out of individuals, mostly women.  Who or why these stores are made up and passed around, I do not know. I used to get these emails from random co-workers, and now my mother is sending them to me.   I remember there was one about the “deadly germs” on the bottom of your purse from when you set it down in a public restroom (or anywhere else).  I remember reading how horrible and nasty these germs are. The thing is, there are germs on the bottom of your shoes.  The same germs that many people don’t think twice about when walking into their homes with their shoes on.  These are the same dirty, non sterile floors that their babies crawl on.  Despite the odds stacked against them, they manage to live.

I think we  have enough real reasons to be fearful at times.   I don’t need to made up stories to keep me aware of the real dangers out there.

No more emails, please!

I was thinking about my body image a few days ago when I was walking home from the gym.  Looking over the years since I’ve became aware I have a physical body, I’ve never been happy with my appearance. I’ve had and still have my moments, but I’ve never been totally content. I wrote some of the self inflicted struggles I’ve had with this in a post back in the spring called My Own Worst Enemy.  I guess I should also say I am my own worst critic.

As I strolled though the neighborhood with my cane and small gym bag, I scanned my brain for reasons why I am  still feeling the way I’m feeling about my body despite the fact that I have bigger fish to fry when it comes to my body and health.  I outlined some reasons that started early in life in that post, and wonder if its realistic to resolve those issues as an adult.  Is it something that I have to keep working at?  Its obvious to me that simply telling myself “its in the past, move on” doesn’t work. I guess some people would  blame the media for my feelings, but I don’t watch much TV and the only magazines I read are trade magazines and journals.

I actually look at other women in real life and envy their appearance.  The thin woman who can eat what they wish – you know, simple foods like bread. Food and drink that wont show up on their waist line while I analyze everything that I put into my shopping basket and eventually put in my mouth.  The naturally slender woman who only has to do gentle Yoga or token cardio for exercise while I sweat  and strain at the gym and at home to keep a waistline.     I try to sweep those negative, useless, thoughts out of my head only to return in no time.

Like an addict that hides their addiction from others, I haven’t told many people my true feelings.  I guess its about time for me to seek real help for my addiction.

I know I’ve been MIA over the past few weeks, but I am alive and well.  This is my first full holiday season since the beginning of Green and Chic and it has me fully occupied.  The business side of me knows its the end of the year while I catch up with my business bookkeeping and the web store holiday preparations, but the other side of me cant believe its already Thanksgiving time.

2009 went by in a flash.  With all the major changes in life with the diagnoses, having to leave my job, losing my benefits, the pregnancy – and loss, and relocating, I guess its a good thing this year didn’t drag its feet.

I think the only way I’m going to look forward to 2010 and beyond is to have some short and long-term goals.  Since the Multiple Sclerosis diagnosis, I’ve inadvertently put the breaks on setting goals (especially long-term) in my life though I don’t fully understand why. I guess fear have a lot to do with it.  Fear of failure and disappointment if I don’t fulfill what I set out to do.  Questions such as how can I travel next year if I’m looking at over $6,000 in out of pocket medical expenses for MS treatment not including  my prescription drug co-payment.  It also doesn’t include general well-woman care and the dental work I’m facing.  I know it can be done. I know its a matter of remapping my life and thinking outside the invisible force field I put up.

The question is, how?

Photo by wwarby

A few months ago, I was organizing my coin collection in preparation for packing it for the move.   Lost in deep though, I was going back to a time when I had this massive two dollar bill collection.  OK, it wasn’t “massive”, but to me, four two dollar bills was a lot.  This two dollar bill collection along with a 1925 Chinese Yen that was given to my mother by an exchange student when she was  in high school vanished into thin air one day.  Have you ever had something that you cherished or at least valued disappear without a trace.  You know where you left it for safe keeping, but now its gone.  You searched high and low, in other people’s bedrooms, in shoe boxes, closets, and so on, and you find no crumbs or footsteps to follow.  Eventually you come to terms with the unexplainable loss.

Looking back, I think my father may have taken it.  He was at the height of his drug addiction and was totally out of control.  Other items vanished from the house during that time as well, including a vacuum cleaner, a television, and a gold and jade ring that a woman from my church had made for me when I graduated high school.  He was so out of control at the time that when my mother filed for divorced and had to pay him for half the value of the home, he carried the cash with him (high five figures) in a suitcase and went though it in a matter of months.

Going back to the money and coin collection, I wondered if I would ever find another two dollar bill to add to my currency collection.   I put everything away and moved on with my day.

Later that afternoon, I went to a local wine store with Steve.  Outside this particular store, there is a front yard and seating area that I used to frequent when I needed a semi quiet place to sit.  Steve was sitting on a bench facing the street which left me no choice but to sit with my back facing the street. I’m not comfortable having my back towards the street, when outside or sitting with my back to the door in a restaurant. I decided to just deal with it since we were not planning on being there long anyway.  As I sat with my back to the street and facing the wine store, and landscaping, I noticed the magenta colored Bougainvilla that was in bloom.  For some reason, I was always memorized by that particular flower and that day was no exception.

As I sat staring at the flowers and chatting with Steve, I noticed something laying on the ground beyond the Bougainvilla on the side of the small building.  It was green and looked like money.  I didnt think it was actually money because it was so deep in the bushes.  It wasnt possible.  I decided to go with my instinct and check anyway.  As made my way to the vine, it did look more and more like a green dollar bill.  When I was about five feet awawy from it on the side of the building, there was no question that it was money. Despite it laying in the bushes, it was very clean and in good condition.  I reached down to pick it up, grabbed it and made my way back to my seat on the bench.

I looked at it and it was a two dollar bill.

A few days after we moved in, I spent the morning getting some business and house related work done, relieved that our high-speed Comcast internet, phone and fax lines are up.  Its hard to get much work done when you’re constantly leaving the house for internet access.  I work out, shower and make an attempt to get dressed before I realized that most of my clothes are either still packed or downstairs in the basement on a clothing rack that I use to dry after running a load of laundry the night before.  I slowly make my way down the creepy basement stairs clad in nothing but my bra, panties and flip-flops. At that point, I am still timid about going down to the slightly scary basement.  I was making my way down until I saw something that looked like a giant spider on a wall to my far right.

I figured that “thing” was way too big to be a spider.  I know it was a living creature of some sort because even from about 25 feet away, I saw that it had legs. Hairy legs. I hoped to God that it didn’t have eight.  I got a little closer to it and my blood pressure rose, my heart started to pound, my mouth got dry and I felt the color from my skin fading away.  It was a spider.  It wasn’t a typical scary “normal” sized spider – this sucker was huge!  Take a trantaurula and divide it in half size wise.     I cried out to Steve who was already deeper into the basement working out. I wanted him to kill get rid of this creature.  He was annoyed that I was interrupting him and told me to wait until he was done.  In a panicky voice I tried to tell him that this spider was not your typical spider.  I hate feeling so fearful, vulnerable and dependent on someone else, but in this case, all ego was tossed out the window. After about a minute of going back and forth, he finally got up, frustrated that I interrupted what he was doing.  After seeing this spider, he finally understood what the big deal was.  Even he was taken aback.

The Origin

Now before you tell me that spiders are our friends because they eat mosquitoes and other undesirable insects, let me remind you that a true phobia is an irrational fear.  There really isn’t an identifiable reason why someone should fear something.  My phobia of spiders is not based on a memory or bad experience.

My first spider memory happened when I was very young.  I must have been one and a half when I was laying in my crib one night.  I have very early childhood memories and this was one of my first.  I remember feeling some anxiety since my mother was going to go to work soon.  It was late in the evening and she worked nights as an ICU LVN and went to school during the day to become an RN.   I missed her terribly at night when she went to work.  I remember not understanding why she had to go and leave me so often.  I remember being told about the bills that needs to be paid, but that meant nothing to me.  When I was laying in my crib, I noticed a black spider crawling across the pink wall in my bedroom.  At that point, I remember feeling fear.  Somehow, I knew it was a spider before someone told me it was.  How I knew that, I dont think I will ever know.  Past life experience perhaps?  Because I felt fear, I cried for my mother to come in.  My mother and brother came in, got rid of the spider and all was well again.

I was always afraid of spiders though other insects never bothered me.  I have been stung by bees and wasps, but I don’t have a phobia of them.  I have a healthy fear, but not the ‘life flashing before my eyes’ type of fear. Though one of the most common phobia is of snakes, they dont even bother me. My typical phobic reaction is what I mentioned above when I saw the giant spider.  Other reactions can include, shortness of breath, nausea, shaking, crying, sweating and worse at times.  It gets stranger: spider webs (even without a spider) bother me too.

During my entire childhood, my mother tried to reason with me with the “spiders are our friends” statements.  She even got me Charlotte’s Web by E.B. White in an attempt to lighten my view of spiders.  Though I loved the book, I could never see “Charlotte” (the spider)  in any of the spiders I’ve came across in real life.

Now that I’m in a new space, I am a bit timid when I enter rooms, especially the basement.  Unlike our previous house, we don’t have those super sealed double paned windows that helped in keeping the spiders and other bugs out. We are blessed with a garden full of tomatoes and summer squash but heading back there to harvest is always an adventure.

I wonder if I will ever shake my phobia of spiders. I will gladly pay money just so that I can enjoy gardening instead of sweating in fear every time I got out into the yard, or having my heart stop when I see a speck on the wall.

We arrived in Portland on late Sunday morning after many months of preparation, weeks of packing and  days and hours of driving up from the Bay Area.  “Fried” is an understatement of how I feel now, but its good to be at the tail end of this transition.  Our next step is the transfer our businesses across state lines, change addresses, do the whole automobile thing (registration, drivers license, insurance) notify friends and family of our new location and get acquainted with our new city.  My health insurance is another huge step but hopefully it wont be so painful   Not having regular Internet access when you run businesses from home is difficult, but we are getting by with local cafes until Comcast arrives Wednesday.  We are in the “Alberta Arts” district and there isn’t a shortage of things to do and places to go.  We will be in our place for a little less than a year which will give us a chance to transition and learn more about the city before settling into something more permanent.

It all hasn’t sinked in yet.

When I first purchased a cane to help with my balance when I go out, I joked with Steve that my flirting days are over.  Though it was a joke, there was a grain of truth to what I said.

Since I started using a cane in public, it has attracted a great of attention from both men and women alike. Most of the attention is from fellow cane users.  In general, they are usually much older than I am but  our canes breaks all barriers.  Smiles, winks, and friendly gestures from strangers are pretty common now.  Its almost like I unknowing joined a secret society.  We just don’t have rings.

In terms of the flirting, men – older men, are a little bolder now. When I say “older”, I mean old.  The setting is usually in a cafe while in line waiting to order or waiting for our drinks. First they say something lame like “you’re too pretty for a cane “  -  I guess to lighten the mood. Since they are usually elderly, I hold my tongue and offer a token, friendly laugh.  The laugh and smile is an invitation for them to ask what its for.  When I tell them, their response is usually a very inquisitive “oh?”, with bushy eyebrows raised and tumblers turning. Then to beak the uncomfortable mood, I get his life story packed in a few minutes.  At that point, I am genuinely intrigued.  Being on disability can be very lonely and sometimes any human contact is better than none.    Then comes the “do you want to have a coffee/drink/lunch/dinner?” question.  I politely decline.    If they are not asking me if I want to hang out with them, they usually want to keep up with the small talk until I tell them that I must be on my way.  A  handshake,  tipping of the hat or raising of the canes ends our exchange.

Steve wonders why I just don’t tell them to buzz off.  Well, because they are old. Though its not my job to make their last few years, months, weeks, days, or hours here on Earth more delightful, I don’t want to hurt any feelings either. I was taught to respect my elders no matter what.  Because of this, they are able to get away with more with me than someone younger. Its like the elderly “gentleman” who pinched my bottom in a concert hall once.  If he was 60 years younger, he would not have gotten off so easily.  But because he was in his 80′s, I just let it go though he tried hard to pretend he didn’t do anything by whistling and looking around at the ceiling.

Then there are the people who hold doors open, let you walk ahead or offer to carry my bags when I’m alone at the grocery store.  I never, ever expect it, but its a nice surprise when it happens.  It always makes my day.  Because of this, I’m more aware of when others may need assistance.

Yes, the cane does have some advantages in addition to helping with my balance.