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Daily Prompt; Can’t Get Enough

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http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2013/10/09/daily-prompt-addicting/, DP, Daily Prompt

Have you ever been addicted to anything, or worried that you were? Have you ever spent too much time and effort on something that was a distraction from your real goals? Tell us about it.

Photographers, artists, poets: show us ADDICTING.

I was just thinking about this early today. I am addicted to others. I have short hair, not because I think I look fantastic, but because it is very easy to take care of.

What I really want is my hair down below my shoulders again so I can put it up in a messy way like I used to, or let it fall in waves, or any way I really want to wear it.Me This is the way I used to look.

What I find is I have lost me. I have given into my addiction of being needed, feeling self-worth, being accepted.

It is too important to me, and it has taken the almost seven years of caring for family members to see that I am not me.

I am to a point. I do love being a caregiver. When I look inside my house, I can see me in a lot of places. But the part of me who was once alive has been swiped and hidden away. This is what this addiction to being wanted has done to me.

I made up my mind last night that I will without guilt start looking farther down the road. The path I want to return to is filled with silly laughter, feeling young, and spontaneous.

To start this I am starting to let my hair grow back out. I have been thinking about what type of work do I want to do once this chapter is closed. Do I still want to be a caregiver? I think yes but not 24/7.

I want to be able to walk a way from the job at the end of the shift. Change from a professional to a silly person. There are some facts I have to face. Such as I can not move like I used to due to my diabetic feet problems. My back can’t take what it used to. I am not as strong as I used to be. I am beginning to need my naps more often. But I see me being able to squeeze the old me in there.

I want to, no I need to return to me. My sanity has to be kept in line. My thoughts have to deter a way from death, and I need to concentrate on me, which is something I haven’t done for years.

So off with the short hair is a good place to start. Maybe I should get a butt lift, or implants, or a tummy tuck. No, I think not. I have already been made and what needs to be fixed is internal.flying_angel_wallpaper_cd368         http://youtu.be/uAPUxvjbdcU

 

 

 

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Weekly Writing Challenge; Fit to Write

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DP Challenge, http://dailypost.wordpress.com

Unfortunately for me health issues and worrying about oneself is something I seemed to learn or inherit from my grandmother. I was very aware of every change my body goes through.

To tell you the truth, I hated it. I want to wait for the big signs. The chest pains, the pain running down my arm. My grandma spent more time in the doctor’s office than she did at home, I swear. Her kitchen cabinets were full of medication bottles. I always sensed there was a sense of pride that she owned half the pharmacy.

I promised myself I would not run to the doctor. I would not have shelves that look like this. I wait when I feel something, but in the back of my mind I pray it is nothing. Most of the time my over grown issues were just that.

When my Daddy became sick I drew a way from myself. I focused on his needs up until he drew his last breath. Now that I am taking care of my brother who is also dying from M.S.A. I still don’t have the time to concentrate on me.

This is a good thing. It is never an excellent idea to only see inside your own bubble. Life is moving all around us.

Now when I think of  health I think in the bright lights. I never run for the gray areas of life and play the wonder game. I see what my brother goes through daily. Every minute he endures pain. Tremors, not being able to make limbs move. Going from walking to isolated to a wheelchair.

I see his toughness behind the scene. I would have at one time drove myself crazy if I would have had tremors like him. To not be able to walk? I would have been on the biggest pity party boat ride.

Now I watch birds, I smell the fresh air, I watch for our leaves to turn in the early fall. I watch for signs from my brother that he is bearing the moment. I see a smile and my heart burst open.

I hear him talk about things he used to do and I cry. I hear him beg to die and go to heaven to see Mom and Dad and my body crumbles.

Health to me now is living. Having an opportunity, one more chance to recognize how lucky I am to be alive. Health is a wonderful way to share what you have with others. To give a good word, a hug, a card, a visit, a small token. Anything I can do to offer one heart to another is healthy  today.

This style of living has improved my mental health, my physical health and my own personal views on other people’s lives.

I am one lucky person. I have had chance after chance to heal myself and with God’s help and me opening my eyes to souls that are much worse off than I have ever been, I am not bad at all today.sunlightcaregiver

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Daily Prompt; Tourist Trap

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What’s your dream tourist destination — either a place you’ve been and loved, or a place you’d love to visit? What about it speaks to you?

Photographers, artists, poets: show us VACATION.

I was  born and raised here in good old flat-land, corn raised Indiana all of my life. But while I was married to my last husband who was never satisfied where we lived, I had the opportunity to visit places other than here.

I went to see my real mother out in Yuma Arizona a few different times. I tried actually living and working there to be near her, but it just wasn’t meant to be.yuma arizona Not only was my Mother’s love for me less than a dog’s instincts for her pups, I was the minority. People carried guns too. It is still like the old west in reality.

Then when I was married to my first husband, I was given the chance to travel to Stuttgart, Germany, where I lived and had my baby girl. I still dream of this country after many years have gone by. I loved everything I saw there, so this must be why I still dream about this beautiful place.stuttgart

I married my second husband in Florence Alabama. I loved the southern people, the laid back life style, but I have a lot of bad memories just with married life. Big mistake, big, big, big mistake.florence

When our Father died, Al hated the memories of the home he had lived in. I battled for years and still do about this house. It was a nice home, but it wasn’t home to me and Al didn’t like it. We sold it. That is the battle I have. Maybe I should have kept it no matter what our feelings towards it. It was paid for and it was family, but I can’t go back and change it now. I only wish I could leave it alone in my mind. We headed south. We had one aunt and my grandmother that lived there.  Our aunt who I will call M just thought we would love it here.

The first mistake I made is going on the word of someone else. I hadn’t ever argued with M, but she had lived in Florida for many years so our personal level of family was not there. I took the money from Mom and Dad‘s home and bought another home in Sarasota, Florida.

The homes are more expensive there than here. I think this is one of the bigger areas in my mind that I learned material crap is nothing more than crap. We had a home that was maintained by other people. It was in a nicer area of town. Complete with pool and tons of places to see and all several Goodwill stores and Salvation Army Thrift stores. The people were different though. I can’t tell you how many time ladies at stores would look me quickly up and down to see what I was wearing before they would respond to my hello. It was too rich for me. Many rich homes and people lived there. I had come from a size of 35,000 people to an area with more than 150,000 people. Too big, too rich for a country girl.

Al hated the pool. I got him in it one time, but he froze in spot. I helped him out and he never came within 10 feet of the pool again except one time. He sat on one of the lounge chairs with me.

I was able to find a place that was for disabled adults. Al went there M-F up until we came back home. He absolutely loved it. Since Sarasota is so large, his group was given many different tickets. He got to go to Tampa to see several ballgames. He went to Imax Theatres. He saw plays. He got to see alligators and all types of wild life.

But one day he quit qualifying for the program. His Parkinson’s was getting in the way. Al just couldn’t understand why he was not going to be allowed to go back. His heart and mine were broken. He didn’t care for the terrible heat, so he stayed inside most of the year. He didn’t like the pool and he was getting more sick, and becoming a patient of the heart and general hospitals.

Florida is a great state for retirees, but if you are a disabled adult who is mentally challenged too, you are up shit creek without a paddle. In our area there was no help. I was becoming frustrated and Al was still very sad about his day program.

I kept hearing Mom and Dad in my head. They were so mad at me because I had sold their home and went to Florida. But worse, I was thinking of coming back home. I thought about my kids and how they were here and I was there. The doctors that Al needed were back home and not in Florida. It made sense to come home but I was ridden with guilt.

The expenses of the property in Florida, giving up my parents home, and only being in Florida less than five years, plus the expensive moving in itself was enough to eat me alive with guilt by now. When I look back on this part of my life, I have come to terms pretty much with the big waste of money. It was a trip or a long vacation for Al. He had been left alone for so many years, that this was his chance to get out and experience life and have fun. Now with his Parkinson’s so advanced, I am glad I was able to give him those few years of total fun.

I talked to Al so many times back then. He never got over being miserable and his pains were becoming more often. I had the sad memories of Mom and Dad being in heaven if I came back here. All of our family but the half-sister were deceased. There was one aunt here but our relationship was ruined when our Dad died.

So why come back to a lonely and sad place? Why come back to the ugly, cold, long winters? I just knew it was the right thing to do, but still I fought with it in my mind.

sarasotaMy daughter gave me an idea. She lives in Ky near Bowling Green. She suggested we move there instead of back in Indiana. It was a brilliant idea to me, and Al was excited too. He loves my daughter and her husband.

I didn’t want to  purchase anymore property at this time. I didn’t know the areas, and quite frankly I wasn’t sure where this Parkinson’s of Al’s was going. We found a place to rent in Bowling Green. I went on the words of the landlord. I specified that I wanted and needed a very safe area to live in.

Well it wasn’t quite like she said, considering someone took my car out for a midnight stroll one night. They broke into the car and tore up the glove box. But in general we really liked the area.

Everywhere we went people treated us like we were family. They didn’t know the word stranger. We lived in a duplex and our bedrooms were upstairs. Things went along pretty well. Al got to visit the Corvette Museum and we went lots of places. We fit in nicely. Then one day Al started stumbling. He was seeming to have heart attack spells more and more.

After a few visits to the ER we discovered he had Angina. Now he had this along with his heart attack a few years back. What was causing the Angina was the stairs. Every time he climbed the stairs he would have another attack.

The doctor told me we had to definitely move out of a two-story place or Al would have another heart attack. I was disappointed and I think Al was too. At this point in my life I gave up the fight and we bought our mobile home back home in Indiana. I had to bring Al back. My conscience could not see it any other way.bowling green

Being back home in Indiana gives me very few comforts. Yes, I know my way around very well. Yes, my one son lives within walking distance of me. Another son lives about an hour a way. We don’t see him often and the son who lives close we seem to always be at odds.

Now Al has been dealing with Parkinson’s and the ugly parts of it. He lives in a nursing home but is coming home. I am lonely without my parents. Too many memories here. The winters are cold. My feet suffer so bad in the winter from my Diabetic Neuropathy. They burned and burned most of last winter even with socks and very warm slippers on.

WarsawCentralPark1I know that as long as I am taking care of Al, I will stay put. I don’t know what will happen if Al leaves this earth before me.

I know my two boys are here, but my daughter is in KY. I know that I loved that area so much.

I know my dream is to be back in Ky, but I don’t know if I will actually ever be able to do something about it.

I can hope and dream. I would be selling the home I live in, but to purchase another home with mobile home profits would be difficult. I guess if God wants me to go back to the blue grass state, he will find a way to help me make my dream come true.

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Daily Prompt; Unconventional Love

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Love, Wedding, Marriage

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Over the weekend, we explored different ways to love. Today, tell us about the most unconventional love in your life.

Photographers, share a photo that says unconventional.

In my generation it was common to grow up and plan on getting married and having some kids. Moms worked some but for the most part they still worked more inside  the home instead of outside for someone else.

The conventional love. The one everyone followed suit on. Even people who weren’t crazy about being married, got married because it was the right thing to do. Not uncommon in some countries but very unlikely here where I live was the arranged marriage.

You had your spouse chosen for you. A lot of figuring and planning went into those marriages. Many times they didn’t love each other, let alone know enough to be saying I do. Can you imagine what that was like letting someone bed you at night and you had no deep feelings for them. I can imagine that they grew to love each other, or they suffered their own hell.

Love and marriage has advanced so much today. People can love each other for a one night stand. Even say the words without feeling them for the passion of a fleeting moment. Some are infatuated with thinking the grass is greener on the other side of the fence. They will fantasize about another married person, thinking if I was only married to them.

Others waste so much of their life by living a dream, hoping that one day that person will be come available, only to end up an old spinster, all alone.

I did the common thing. I married fresh out of high school. It lasted for several years and a lot of the years were good. But we are thrown rocks and feelings change. We become more mature and our needs and desires change.

Sometimes this leads to divorce or cheating for some. Others suffer through the relationship for the sake of the children.

I ended up being divorced, and married a second time, which was even a bigger mistake on my part. Now I define love totally different from  when I was in my twenties.

I have room for many types of love. I love my kids. I love watching the birds and feeding the squirrels. I love my brother. I love caring for others. I love knowing that I made someone’s day special.

I would love to see a man come driving through in his car and pick me up. I have given up on the knight and shining armor on a white horse. That is fairy tale to me now a days. Now I think I can love someone for who they are. What they bring to my life, how I add to theirs. Sharing some laughs and tears a good cooked meal or movie; is something I can love unconventionally.

I have learned I don’t have to follow that yellow brick road. I can be myself and learn to let my feelings lead me. Accepting ourselves for who we are is a major thing to do today. Not feeling like I have to be like everyone else is a big thing that took me years to learn.

Can I learn to love unconventionally? Yes, I think I can, and I have in many ways

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