Well I Got In

Well, I got in but what did I really get myself into? See post: Forbidden Site For Those With Anxiety

This FB group was recommended to me.  I read through the posts last night and now I feel even worse.  My champagne problems do not even come close.  Abuse, addiction, and money problems top the list.

I struggle with acknowledging that our troubles have no degree.  Because I think they do y’all.  I struggle with acknowledging that I am entitled to my feelings.  Perhaps I am but I definitely do NOT feel entitled to whine about them.

Would I want to trade places with anyone in this group?  No! not a chance.  And I am overwhelmed with guilt that some could take this post as me saying I am better off or somehow better than.  For no one is immune.

I’ve heard it said if we all threw our problems into a pile to pick and choose from, that when given the choice after seeing other peoples’ issues, we’d all take back our own.

The devil you know I guess.

As always. more to come.

Forbidden Site For Those With Anxiety

I tried to follow a site suggested to me which is all about tips to deal with anxiety.

I filled out the questions of which there were only three.

I have heard nothing back which of course feeds into my anxiety.

And here is where my mind goes as to why they have not contacted me:

  • my selfie profile scared them away
  • they can read my mind and know I am beyond hope
  • I am not worthy (Shwing – Wayne’s World, party on) lol!

More than likely, the request to follow is not manned 24/7 and it is ME not THEY who are are afflicted by the immediate response gene.

Yep, I said it … immediate response gene – IRG.  I am gonna patent that sH!t.  I am convinced this quirk is hard wired.  In my DNA.

Anyhoo. That is all.

I’ll let you know if I make the grade, the cut, or otherwise get in.

As always, more to come.

If Only …

If only

I had a second chance

I’d  go back to 2014

Before the bottom fell out

Before medication numbed 

But did nothing to cure her pain

Before the treatment

That was worse than the disease

Took hold and grew roots

The disease that is elusive and cunning

That you try to thwart 

As it blows right past

You do the best you can

With what you know at the time

Your best is good enough

Why can’t I believe that?

Because maybe that’s the lie I tell myself

To get through another day

As always, more to come

Three Guesses

*** Trigger warning for anyone with eating disorder ***

See feature image. Some of you will know immediately for what I am preparing.  Ugh! Anyone else, you get three guesses.

February 15th is my 2nd rodeo and I swore I would not forget my 1st rodeo on February 12, 2013.  But somehow I did.  The mind is a beautiful thing.  As I sit trying to conjure up the memory, things are vague.  I know there is no pain.  In fact, the sedation was phenomenal.  And I get chatty when I am loopy.  I said some pretty inane things that we all laughed about later.

On the plus side, I have completely forgotten how the prep tastes.  As luck would have it, they have improved this process greatly in the last five years.  Only 16 oz of prep/water solution in an hour followed by two 16 oz of water in two hours to be repeated one more time at two a.m.  Sacrebleu! Who wants to repeat that process at two a.m? No one and I mean no one.  But trust me folks that is best.  Early means over and done with and only one day off work instead of two.

The only issue is that the day before liquid diet is stirring up my disordered eating.  I really went all out yesterday cuz you know this is coming up and like a squirrel storing nuts for winter I kept gathering nuts or in my case eating them.  I started off with my normal breakfast then things went south.  Deep to the  Rio Grande Valley south.  I felt awful most of the day and today I vowed to get back on track.  B is here and that helps me because I am too tired to hide it so I am “normal”.  Poor guy has no idea this could start up again.

Truth be told, I find a sick comfort in the rigid liquid diet.  Scheduled to the exact ounce and completely prescribed, color coded even.  I rationalize that this is not quite like before.  The old Jill was no breakfast or lunch and my sensible dinner.  Thanks only to my mommy for making daily well-balanced suppers for us. Left on my own things got worse but I won’t go back there.

Now this happens, I am required for one day to follow this diet.  I am worried that I could get used to this.  But I won’t.  Or at least I tell myself I won’t.    And now I have the ability to get these thoughts out of my head on virtual paper.  That helps tremendously. Back then I was all frenetic action and introspective thinking. I was perpetually hungry/dizzy and I liked it. I also liked the comments on my petiteness. And when that ship sailed I especially liked to hear:

“You look nice,have you lost some weight?”

That folks is a dangerous question.  Thin is not always healthy.  Trust me I know.

As always, more to come.


Dr. Pepper Ramble

Not sure which day exactly … likely this past Wednesday …

The convo went something like this …

Ring, ring (standard iPhone ringtone that I will change one day)

Me: Hello

B:  Do you wanted anything from the grocery store?

Me: Nope, I’m good

B: Are you sure?

Me: Yes, gotta go

But … I was in the middle of something stressful when he called … so I thought about his question and called him back …

Here’s the convo from about 10 minutes later

Ring, ring (Seek and Destroy ringtone)

B: Hello

Me: Hey, if you have not left the store, I’d like a Dr. Pepper.  Just one 20 oz, not a 12 pack.

B: Are you sure? Remember what you told me?

Me: Yes, I memba and you fulfilled your sponsor duties.  I am sure.  But just one.

At there sits the devil.  In our fridge.  Unopened.  Right next to the milk … and if you believe Marilu Henner, milk is as evil as Dr. Pepper.  Baby babies are not cows she says …

Other contents include:

Yummy pickled okra from our buddy MJ.

The giant jar of pickled jalapenos because the cost savings is too good to beat.  Only lasts about a month.  If Lulu is home even less.  We eat them like candy.

Expired eggnog.  That carton has got to go.

Unsweet tea in case Pony and Wise drop by.

Celery in crisper that will go into chicken and dumplings unless we have birthday dinner Sunday tomorrow instead of next week.

Am I bored? or am I spending my ME day the way I want to? … all apologies – Nirvana is the music on tap at the moment.

As always, more to come.

Before and After ~ Top or Bottom

Mind outta the gutter people.  This is a G rated post.

I am spring cleaning in December.  It started at home.  One of Lulu’s Christmas gifts to me.  I had a “nest” in the corner of my bedroom room.  All that “stuff” bugged me but I also did nothing about it.  The “stuff” was not gross, food product or anything like that.  Basically I collect bags and interchange them regularly.  These totes from various trips – vacation and shopping were full of things I had forgotten about.  “Necessary” things …NOT!

We put the nest contents on top of my bed.  Then we proceed to organize all of it for what felt like hours.  Several trips were made to the shredder with receipts.  We found more pens and notepads than I could use in a lifetime.  My collection of tchotchke that I brought home from work when I moved downtown over two years ago was in there too. Lulu took over when I wavered.

Toss it mom!  Really, just toss it!

We ended with a place for everything and everything in its’ place.

Today at work I did the same with my drawers.  Spring cleaning in December – Happy Birthday and Merry Christmas to me!  This time I was solo but I channeled my inner Lulu and got it done.  I brought back some (not all) of the tchotchke.  I am brightening my space.  I know I can be a one bin person again if needed. Right now, I don’t need to be.

Look at this handiwork folks!

I can lock up my new laptop and peripherals versus carting them all over the place with me.  I’ve got a wounded wing ya know. But your questions … should you choose to participate in this guessing game are …

Is the picture a before and after? Or a top and bottom?

If Lulu was asking, before and after would be correct.  She de-clutters.  If Pony was asking, top and bottom would be correct.  In fact, when he was a kid, his only method of cleaning was to toss everything into his closet.

Could it be I took all my “stuff” from the top draw and threw it into the bottom?  No! Never! Well … Oh Sssshhhh!! I am not telling.

As always, more to come.


Broken Wing and Random Thoughts

I need to write it out … you know like shake it off

… but I’m having a hard time doing sH!t one handed.

B tells me I’ll get used to it … he did and he broke his right wrist and had a broken face to boot.  But he’s stronger than me.  I’m a marshmallow. A salty, shriveled up cream puff of a marshmallow 😦

Random thoughts to excise my demons:

  • determined to find silver linings and stay healthy
  • leads me to workout daily even though the team challenge is done and I broke my fucking arm
  • no excuse as I can pedal the recumbent and go many more miles than treadmill or outdoor walking
  • but I still feel sucky
  • nobody likes me … everybody hates me
  • not true … some people dislike me and dare I say hate me though hate is a very strong word
  • I love too much too quickly and have feels for complete strangers
  • everyone is my brother but that intensity is not for faint of heart so I’m going to dial it way-way back
  • and disappear … that’s not me so we’ll see how long this lasts
  • who needs people anyway … I’ve got B and that’s something … hell that’s everything but if I was him I’d make like a tree and leave
  • My PCP didn’t call back until 5 pm Monday by which time I had made an appointment elsewhere for my arm
  • The other office called me today to change doctors.  No reason though they’ll still see me tomorrow.  Should I care? I won’t libel the new doc but the ratings are vastly different.  Same group … I guess I’ll be ok.  I’m sure I don’t need a doc any way.  I’m small potato, non-surgical and the tech will do my cast.  THINK HAPPY THOUGHTS J-Dub.  THINGS WILL TURN OUT.
  • I didn’t mean to scream but one-handed typing is for the birds.  Too hard to correct.
  • I’m gonna be so screwed if it gets cold.  Long sleeves and cast don’t mix.
  • It hurts … a lot.  Why do I pretend otherwise? Well, so the pain will magically go away.  I’m wishing myself well.  I should’ve asked for pain meds.  Instead I power through.
  • Scene from the Middle
    • Brick: you keep the job Sue.  I’ve been licking potatoes, only a matter of time before they find out and fire me.
    • Sue: why Brick? why would you do that?
    • Brick: at first it was the salt but then I convinced myself that licking the potatoes would keep our parents alive
  • Is Brick crazy?  like a fox.  LOL!  He is me! Very superstitious.  Sing it Stevie!! of course my music is in the background.  A good rant requires musical accompaniment.  ALWAYS!
  • Bright spot … walking to the library … taking gingerbread man pics. It made me happy and strangers were nice … asking me questions.  Plus the librarian let me check out a book without my card.  Why? cuz she knows me! SAPL is my Cheers!

And with that, this house is clean.  and by house, I mean my brain which feels normal again albeit temporarily.

Tips To Keep From Crying

  1. Put a tack in your shoe.  
  2. Meditate. 
  3. Face the issue head on. 
  4. Walk it off. 

Ouch, a tack in the shoe is for passing a lie detector test and might actually bring more tears 😭 

Meditation works but I can’t drop everything right now. 

Walk it off!   Yes! But of course today is rainy.  I’m sugar; I will melt.  

This people pleasing non confrontational neurotic mess (PPNCNM) prefers to be an ostrich.  So much for ISFJ and Myers Briggs. I’m so freaking tired 😓 y’all. In my head too much and likely making stuff up!  Likely not!   All my crazy assumptions are true! No ass of u and me.  

Though I do feel better having written this mini feel sorry for me ploy. Gets the noise out of my head. Maybe write the feelings out should be #5?

Happy Halloween 🎃 

P.S. To My Love Letters Parts 1-9

P.S. when used in writing, it stands for postscript, from the Latin post scriptum, meaning “written after.” Generally used in letter-writing to indicate something added after the body of the letter was completed and signed. 

Why did I write these letters?

  1. To bring awareness to mental health issues
  2. To help end the associated stigma
  3. To show others you are not alone

I am not a professional, (I just play one on TV).  LOL!  That never gets old.  Ok, it gets old. Ba dum tiss 🥁

I am just a mom who loves her daughter unconditionally.  Loving unconditionally is hard.  I used to have rules and conditions on everything.  My perfectly scripted life was oh so phony.  Not anymore.

These letters were based on my personal experiences.  Each case is unique and I do not presume to speak for others.  That said if our story is relatable and makes one think before casting judgment on others, then I’ve done my job.

Do I think suicide can be prevented/cured?

The answer is not a simple yes or no.  Darn it all, the answer is sometimes.   Let’s equate mental illness to physical illness.  Some protocols work for some people but not always universally.  The 99-year-old heavy smoker going strong and the 20-year-old who never smoked who dies of lung cancer.

Unfortunately death by suicide will continue and the most important thing to me is that we do NOT assign fault.  Suicide loss survivors, you absolutely have to know that you are NOT the cause!!!  Don’t blame yourself, blame the disease that took your loved one from you.  You could not prevent a death by suicide any more than you can prevent a death by cancer.  Easy for me to say having not experienced this but in my heart of hearts I believe this is true.  Be kind to yourselves. You did your best and your best is good enough. 

Does that mean we quit trying?  

Hell no.  Hope is a fickle bitch but we need her.  The stories, the shouting from the roof tops, all brings awareness.  The impact of the awareness is measured successful by reaching at least one soul.  We keep the lines of communication open and we try multiple approaches. We fight! Together! Only in hindsight will we look back and see the hard work was worth it.

How is Lulu doing, do you think she will ever be okay? 

She is in her second year of college.  She still gets anxious over things like her grades. She is still the proverbial people pleaser.  Apple didn’t fall far from that tree.  I think she will be okay but I cannot predict the future.  Now I do not even try to predict/control.  Living in the moment is all we have.  I hope nothing ever happens yet what does happen is meant to be.

In hindsight, those letters are not the terrible awful.  They were written with LOVE!  Despite everything, the events of that day and what followed brought us to where we are now which is a really good place.  Perfect, uh no! Perfect flawed, yes please.

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline. Call 1-800-273-8255. Available 24 hours everyday.

Sometimes the right song presents itself. Enjoy and hugs. XOXOXO ❤

Part 9 ~ All’s Well That Ends Well

I’d like to say the story is done or FIN as my Pony would say.  Roll credits at this movie’s close and put everything in our rearview mirror.  But alas, we are not even close to the end.  At least I hope we are not close to the end.

Was Lulu suicidal on that fateful day? Depends on who you ask.  B is unequivocal.  No! his mind will not be changed.  Me? I want with my heart of hearts to be like B.

I have learned tons through this odyssey.  Choose words purposefully as words have multiple meanings.  Everyone who has mental health issues is not necessarily suicidal.  And while it’s quoted that 90% of those who die by suicide have mental health issues, what does that even mean?

Circular logic fallacy:

Life has no absolutes my friends and we will never know why.  And we will drive ourselves crazy trying to figure it out.  Finally I find comfort in not knowing.  Allowing God’s grace to flow, taking things as they come.  Living day by day.

Going forward, I release all control.  The joke is on me; I never had any control.  Control is an elusive bastard. Lulu is an adult and whatever happens will be her choice.  As her parents, we are merely supporters on the sidelines.

Truth! Has and always will be stranger than fiction.  And we won’t hide anymore.  Silence = stigma.  This life is not all unicorns and rainbows. Pretending does not make it so.

I used to think my kid was fragile and about to crack at any second.  I worried incessantly about her well-being.  My innate need as her mother to make things better also gave me reverse rose-colored glasses.  I only saw and believed the worst. I could not see the proverbial forest for the trees.

Yet when I sit and really contemplate all that we’ve been through, I know to my very core, Lulu is NOT breakable. She was never weak.  In fact, given what she has endured, she has displayed tremendous strength.  That’s our girl, tough as nails. Head-strong and decisive too.


I’ve got my own issues.  We all do.  Don’t forget about self-care and all that fun stuff. They (whoever they are) have said in order to help someone, you have to put your oxygen mask on first.

Writing this out during National Suicide Prevention month was my life-preserver and part of my healing.  There has been an outpouring of love which is very reaffirming. Everyone knows someone, who knows someone, who knows someone else. No one is immune.  The tide is turning, can you feel it?

“The two most powerful words when we’re in struggle: ‘me too’.” ~ Brene Brown

“I think the stigma attached to mental illness will disappear just like it did for cancer years ago.” ~ Sally Graham

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline. Call 1-800-273-8255. Available 24 hours everyday.