Post Election Thoughts From a Silly Pink Haired Gal....

You know what is really crazy to me?

How much each and every person I come across cares about our past election.

I am seeing people heartbroken and truly worried for themselves and their loved ones.

I am seeing people genuinely excited for what our future might be looking like, and how great things are going to be starting now.

If you ask 20 people what the most important thing going on to them is, you'd get 20 different answers because we all care about different things.

I know, I'm young, I'm dumb, I'm privileged and  uninformed... I'm sure you'll come up with why my opinion is wrong compared to yours, it's ok. 

I think the important thing is that the majority of us truly care. I don't know anyone who didn't take this election seriously, and heavily weigh the consequences of their actions when casting their vote. In the past, I've directly interacted with those who didn't have strong opinions on any of the ballot measures, propositions, or candidates. 

Not this time. Every single person I've interacted with this election period has been emotionally invested in this race. Almost everyone has had their big passionate idiot speech about why they have come to the conclusion they have about who is best equipped for the job.

So. Ecstatic for our future or terrified, we have our common thread. It's our desire to make the world a better place for everyone. We all want our communities and lives to be the best version possible, not just for us as individuals, but for our neighbors and grocery store workers we interact with.

I have to believe that we all are trying to do what's right. I have to. If the alternative is that we live in a world with more villains than heroes, more selfish than kind, we've already lost as a society, and there's no point in us anymore. We deserve to become extinct like the dinosaurs. 

Maybe in a few thousand years our descendants can use us for crude oil too.

Megan, and the Mystery of the Missing Tampon - A Medical Mystery

So, a couple of weeks ago, my kid sister came over with her adorable AF kiddos to go swimming with my son and I. I was on my monthly thingabob (With an IUD, calling it a period seems too dramatic of a term for it), so I tampon-ed up when we got ready to go swimming. All 3 pools by my house were closed due to different things, so we ended up walking around in our swimsuits then distracting 4 unhappy kids with dinner and some Netflix.

Fast forward a few hours, my kiddo is passed out and I remember the tampon. I go to the bathroom and spend about 30 minutes digging and reading articles on the internet on what to do if it gets stuck. After that fails, I text one of my best friends to see if she was game to test the limits of our friendship since Gil was busy at work.

We apparently have zero boundaries, and she could not find my tampon, but she did manage to straight up YANK out my IUD, which had apparently dislodged from it's regular position, making it easily accessible. (And explaining some of the weird stuff that had been going on in the last 3 or 4 months with my body)

My body straight up goes into shock, since my constant stream of hormones for the last 6 years quickly evacuated my body, and we go into panic mode since we fished out an IUD, but found no traces of my tampon.

I was terrified that it was in my urethra (which is a thing that technically can happen, but is really hard to do in practice) or jumped up past my cervix. SO, off to the ER we went, making a quick stop to drop Monk off at her house so her husband could watch him sleep.

We get to the ER, and literally had the quickest wait time ever, and within a half hour of getting there, I had 2 more hands all up inside of me, all trying to find the tampon.

They didn't find it. Instead, they found what they thought looked like Cervical Cancer. (!!!!) I had TWO separate doctors give me two different speeches about how they couldn't technically diagnosis me, but they see cancer and I need to go to my OB and get a pap smear ASAP. One was very warm, and even put their hand on my shoulder in sympathy, the other was more brisk and said "Well, if you get it taken care of soon, it won't be a big deal, but if you put this off at all, you are dead."

This was a Friday night, and the very next day I was scheduled to go to Flagstaff for the weekend with Monk, Gil, his family and his band. It was VERY hard to keep a happy face and hide my terror for the weekend.

I called the doctor that following Monday, was in to see him first thing Tuesday and he was LIVID. If you tell someone they have cancer, you need to be damn sure, and Cervical Cancer can NOT be detected by the naked eye. He did see the abnormalities they saw, but thought the doctors to be careless and irresponsible to give me such anxiety. With the tests he took, it takes a week for results. So I had to wait. Hanging out in this terrible What If Limbo.

Both of my grandmas have had multiple cancers coursing through their bodies, one died when I was 3, the other has beaten all the bouts I have heard about. My grandfathers have also had their share of cancer in their visceral organs and some skin cancer. Since before I could drive, I have been living under the assumption of "When Not If" in terms of cancer, and when I met my ex-husband I was certain I would be dead by 30 with some sort of cancer.

I have been preparing myself for this diagnosis for half of my life, and I think that I'm pretty well adjusted to the idea. Knowing that at worst case scenario I would temporarily go bald (and get to experience warm lotion on a freshly shaven head), and have hormone pellets 15-20 years earlier than expected (Isn't being a woman FUN?!?), didn't really bother me. But I still cried a lot waiting for my results. And Gil, had no clue any of my medical history, and had to come to terms with a lot of depressing realities of what an early hysterectomy would mean for him if he plans on being a long term fixture in Monk and my's life. (We literally just signed a lease on a bigger place for the 3 of us, so that is the current plan)

I had to wait 10 days for my results. 10 days where I went through my life pretending absolutely nothing had changed, but going through all sorts of emotions and thoughts, and having my boyfriend pretty much velcroed to me. I had all these years to adjust and be ok-ish, he had 10 days and he was not ok.

SO. I waited to post this until I had my results, and I wanted to wait until I knew my next steps, but apparently my doctor is a fan of automated systems over human interactions.

I, do NOT have Cervical Cancer. I have something called HPV, which is a virus that can, one day, turn into Cervical Cancer. I also have some sort of deformity thing going on in my cervix, but I don't remember what it's called, and google is an asshole when looking up anything related to this.

When I last spoke to my doctor, he mentioned wanting to do some ultrasounds and some other blood tests to see where I lay on the risk scale. The automated system told me I need more paps than the average person, but no time table was given to me.

So, relief? Kinda? Right now, I'm clear, but my odds of that changing have gone up some unknown amount, and as glad I am to know it's not cancer, YET, I think I'll settle a bit back down after I know exactly where I lie in this matter.

As for the tampon that started this entire mess? No one knows exactly where it is, but if it was inside of me I'd be a giant ball of Toxic Shock Syndrome, so the best guess is that the applicator was a dud, and it never made it out of it's cardboard to begin with.

Me v. Organized Religion

Dun Dun Duuuuun. Just kidding. Mostly.

The Friday of Father's Day, my sister was in a car accident that literally folded her car like a book. Yes, I realize that cars don't fold, nor are they any shape that resembles a book, that is how bad of an accident that it was.

She was in the hospital about a week, ICU for 4 of those days, and I tried to be there as often as possible. Since I share a car with Gil, and he is possibly the only person I know busier than me, it was a lot of bus rides and drop offs, but 100% worth it.

On Sunday, Gil had a Father's Day family fishing trip that he left for before the sun, and my mom offered me a ride to see Bug. She goes to church on this side of town, and the cost of admission was to go to church with her. I am pretty anti-church, and had only gone for funerals and weddings for over a decade, but I went. It was...... surreal to say the least.

 I grew up in the Christian Church, and witnessed first hand the corruption and cowardice that can be found in large organized groups. But even before that, when I was younger, the idea that there was this firm, immovable line of right that should never be crossed, with threat of burning hellfire seemed a bit unrealistic. And, if there really is this almighty being, out there, somewhere, would they not know that no rule is correct all the time, that life is nuanced? There is no steadfast rule, even when it comes to things like killing, so no rule can be absolute. It made me uncomfortable being around so many people, just 100% buying into it, no questions ever asked, no healthy debates from differing points to bring the stories to life. Baptized and everything, I never bought in.

Fast forward to Father's Day, my mom, my sister's kiddos and I all walk into the church and immediately someone is in our faces saying good morning. I knew ::someone:: was going to try to hand me a program, so I had filled my arms with children. It was a win for all of us. ;)
Drop them off at the nursery, head on in, and service starts. BOOM. Face from my childhood. One of the super cute boys from my summers at camp is a balding adult, leading the praise and worship part, and is the pastor's son. No wonder I saw his face every single year as a kid..
Pastor starts preaching this SUPER sexist, exactly what I remember sort of message about the measure of A Good Man. Not even person, or human, but man. Complete with hammer jokes. (Yes, I know Father's Day, but growing up the messages directed towards women were about how to be good servants and stay meek, never about strength and courage).

I was nervous about my sister, and uncomfortable, and amazed.

All these people drank the Kool-Aid, people were there in wheelchairs because they believe that G-d will comfort them; my mom hauls her ass 30 miles across town because she thinks the pastor has a strong ear for The Word. While I was sitting there counting the minutes, there was people hanging on the Pastor's every word, moved by him. When it came time to pray, their loud voices vibrated off the walls.

It was a beautiful thing, for a lot of people there. Not for me.

Instead, I'm jealous of them. Believing in their G-d, their church, their religion, fills them with peace and contentment. When everything looks bleak they still sing loudly and passionately, because to them, they know what they believe is real, and that's enough.

I wish that was enough for me, but it really truly isn't. Faith alone, in the unknown, isn't enough for me to just blindly skip through life thinking it will all work out for me in the end, because my imaginary friend loves me.

Those flippant words aren't an accurate portrayal of my feelings on the nuanced subject of higher powers, but they do demonstrate part of my disgust at it all. Don't worry, some of my disgust is that I'm jealous of such a simplistic ideology.

We live in a complex, strange, twisted up word, filled with an assortment of colors and variations of right and wrong, good and evil. Trying to say that one thought process is the one and only truth, and all other variations are wrong is arrogant. And automatically wrong. That's the thing with unknowns, we might get some things right, but since there are huge gaping holes in our information, it's more likely that we get something wrong.

But, if we take all those beliefs and lay them out, take a good hard look at them... They basically say: Don't be a Dick.

So lets all just work a little more on that huh? Maybe leave the bigger questions until we get a better handle on this first part? Whaddya say?

So.... Where's the Line?

As anyone who has attempted to follow this blog in any sort of regular basis can attest, I go through spurts of information drops and then radio silence. Never really on purpose, and I'm always editing my next project in my head whether or not I ever get to typing it out, but it's the way it is.

And it always comes back to one question. Where do I draw the line between writing and sharing the things I write and invading the privacy of the people around me? I write about things that have happened to me, and my loved ones, and I come up with clever (-esk) nicknames and vague descriptions to hide their identities. But, if you know me away from the computer, as a good chunk of you do, when I tell you about the things I'm struggling to overcome, you see the face of the person who also stars in the stories, and it isn't always a  pretty thing.

I recently learned something legit life shattering, something that made a part of my heart that I didn't realize was breakable flat out shatter into a million pieces. The pain and utter hopelessness I feel in my chest because of this betrayal is intense, and writing it out would probably help me cope better than I currently am. (My current method is complete and utter avoidance and feigning ignorance) But if I share, the domino effect of damage would be horrendous. Right now, the only people suffering is me and the person who told me. For everyone else, nothing has changed. But if I share? Countless people will be hurt..

And this is the problem I come across every so often. I want to talk about my marriage failures, and all the glaring red flags we both ignored, so others can see them and learn from them. But if I write and talk about those very ugly events it will be very VERY hard to continue the level of civility and basic friendship my son needs to see me have with his father.

So. I write these articles in my head that never go anywhere, and I constantly doubt about the ones I do publish and fear retaliation. Not even from the people themselves, but towards them. It's a conundrum.

Dust Settling

So, I've been trying to find the time to write this for an entire month, and I have JUST now found the time (and the computer's charging cord) to sit down and type.

Back in January, towards the end of another barely making ends meet month, I made the decision to start the process of shutting down my business. And then, I started making money. Not a lot of money, but enough to actually pay my bills on time AND go grocery shopping for more than 3 days at a time! I know, my life is tiny and simple, but I love it. So, at first I took it as a sign that I made the right decision, and kept pushing towards an end that would take a year or so to get to. And that might still be what happens. BUT, I've kinda have a recent revelation that has me re-thinking a total shut down, and more of a re-direction. The girl who was working with/for me isn't coming back from her maternity leave, so instead of one empty room I have two rooms to rent. Originally I was going to rent out my entire office and sub-rent my own room back for the rest of the year to finish out my existing packages already sold, but now I think I'm going to rent out the rooms to people with complementary practices as my own, drastically cut back on the hours I work and spend more time with my loved ones.

I have been a career obsessed workaholic since before I could drive, and when I discovered my love of massage I envisioned an intense wellness center, and it used to make my entire being sparkle. But.... I got burnt out, a while ago. In trying to keep the doors open I pushed aside the type of work that brings me joy, and just did any type for any person who was willing to use a coupon. I burnt out, and was stressed out constantly. When the drama with my ex-husband happened last year, I felt like I had no where to go to feel at peace. I felt stressed at home, I felt stressed at work, and I just wanted the crazy to stop.

I don't want the wellness center anymore. I don't want to be the boss. I don't think I can work for someone else after so many years on my own, but I LOVE working with people and helping them walk better, move better, feel better. I love being able make an immediate difference in people's structure.

But also, I love my son, and I don't get to see him 5 days a week anymore, I now share him half of the week with his dad, which is great for him to build a strong relationship with his dad, but that means I have less time with him. So I've started changing my schedule so I'm off work shortly after his school day ends, and working longer on the days he's with his dad.

So that's the dust settled on the work side of things. Yes, I need renters, but I have faith that the right people will find my space and it will be lovely.

--

When my marriage failed, I thought since I couldn't make a relationship work with my best friend, that the best I could ever hope for would be a guy that was physically compatible to share a bed with once or twice a week that never evolved into anything beyond. That was the bar I set for myself, and as low of a bar as it was, for a long time I never even came close to reaching it. Gil changed that. I never thought that I would ever get to be in the type of relationship where my heart swelled with happiness and joy over silly, mundane things being said to me. I have had reverse anxiety attacks where my heart is so full that it feels like it's going to explode out of my chest. I didn't even know that was a thing!

But, I've felt splintered. When my son is at his dad's, I have a huge gaping hole in my heart and my home, and so I've spent a lot of time at Gil's house, which means the projects I have are taking longer to do since I have to do them on the weekends with a bunch of kiddos under foot. And when my son is home I usually spend my time with him and am mostly cut off from the rest of the world. I feel like I've been living two different lives, my life with Monk, and my life with Gil. Both satisfying and heart filled, but completely separate and  different. A handful of months ago we started to spend time the three of us, and they love each other. Makes my heart swell even more to watch them interact. :)

So, Gil and I decided to share a roof. Officially as of yesterday! (Even though he took all of last month to mosey his stuff over here). We asked Monk, and he literally jumped for joy.

So, Monk, Gil, and I, are now living in our tiny little duplex, and life isn't splintered anymore. Life is complete.

I feel like a brand new adventure is about to start, the book of old has shut, and a brand new is being written.

This blog is currently called "Life at the Speed of Crazy", but that is no longer true. So I'm going to revamping this with quite a few updates, name to start. I'm very bad with technology so it might take me a while to get a friend or two's help in the changes, but I'm excited.

I don't know where this new path is going to take me, but I hope you stick around for the ride, my dear anonymous eyes. 

Hello Again, My old friend....

I did it again. I once again took an unplanned sabbatical due to my brain being a jerk. And then I half wrote some stuff in my head, and because I was out of the habit of writing on the regular, laziness took hold and it took me another 3 weeks to build up the courage to turn my browser here. And I stand by some of my sabbatical, life got really hectic toward the end of the year, I had a minor melt down and blogged during it (see more below) and then I had to deal with the finalizing of the court stuff to make it official that I'm not married, and business never really picked up after the summer, my laptop was (was as in past-tense) almost a paperweight and my tablet has cracks, and, and, and, and... Well, you get the idea. My plate was WAY too full, but then I refused to re-balance once things got settled down. But I'm here again, so let's go!

If you look at my last post, you will notice it is filled with grammatical and spelling errors. You ::might:: notice that the tone of voice is a little inconsistent, and that it doesn't seem to be very well written. The day I wrote that I was wrapped up in a cloak of despair and depression. It didn't matter what I did, I just couldn't shake it off, I was able to press it down long enough to go to the laundromat with Monk and Gil, but for the most part I lay around curled in a ball just hating everything, for absolutely no reason. So I forced myself to grab my tablet and put it on it's stand and type. For a lot of it I was using one finger at a time and laying far away from it so that I could barely reach.

What was the point of that seemingly meaningless activity? I wanted to see if there was a difference in how my brain was actually working when I felt that way, and since I have plenty of work posted online I figured I could compare them. And compare them I did! I actually went back and forth with the idea of going back and editing it, but then I realized I would lose all the things about it that I was looking for if I edited it, and then it would actually be meaningless. So it stays. In it's original form.



I recently got tested for a Zinc deficiency, and came back SUPER deficient. I've been taking a zinc supplement for just about a month now, and let me tell you, it has made SUCH a difference! In our first real cold of the winter I was walking from Monk's school to the bus stop so I could go to work and it was so cold I shivered myself into a back spasm. My hands and feet are usually so cold that it hurts other people when I touch them while the rest of my body is normal temperatures. Since taking the zinc, I have noticed that I'm not getting so cold, and I can actually retain the heat around me. And my anxiety has calmed too! Apparently a zinc deficiency can trigger your body's Fight/Flight response and if you have anxiety or other similar disorders you can get stuck in a spiral. Gil plays music for a living and every so often he has gigs on nights when Monk is with his dad and I can go, which is awesome! Once my body goes and has a panic attack about being around so many people and then calms itself back down. I was able to skip the horrible panic attack the last gig I attended!! Now I'm sure there's more I need to do, but a $10/month supplement is a step in the right direction!

That's all we have time for today folks, but join me next time where I may (or may not, we'll see) talk about my current debate with myself about sharing things on the internet!!