Coming Home

Today a friend told me she misses reading my blog. Her saying that meant so much to me, that I've decided to see if blogging still fits me.

I did not return to my home in June. I returned to my home just in time for winter break. I returned with a child who is almost one year older. With my health in steadier, yet not all that much "better" shape. With the determination to change whatever needs to change so that I can stay here, and start to live a more independent life once again.

My energy leakage has been patched up, and I have spent the last 9 months learning how to keep it that way.

Quick update since the last time I wrote, for those who like to know what's going on medically speaking... I have started the GcMAF treatments, and I still cringe every time I have to inject myself. The result however, is a much steadier functionality level - an evening out of the see-sawing if you will - and a faster bounce-back from smaller decompensationary periods. I've been taking dessicated thyroid, which has increased my energy levels (yay!) and decreased the cognitive dysfunciton (double yay!). I've also tested positive for mycotoxins, and have begun a detoxing/binding treatment, to be followed by something or another that will actually get rid of them.

Being home again has been a process of re-orientation and rediscovery. I am grateful to the friends and family who helped me get myself settled, and so very very proud of this child who is taking responsibility for much of the housekeeping.

Since we've come home, we've already dealt with the ice storm, a cold for him, a cold for me, Christmas, a stomach bug for him, and New Years. And I'm still here. Not bad...

I am most enjoying the quiet. The shared quiet moments, like right now. These are the best!

Climbing Out Ever So Slowly

Last time I wrote, just over 3 months ago, I was scared and anxious about my energy leakage. Turns out I was right to be. I also expressed that I was sure this was another moment of growth. I was right about that too.

So what actually happened? Well, as my Facebook and real-life friends know, I was hit by a 'viral event', which turned into a serious sinus infection, and eventually developed into a full-blown 'immune event'. Quite literally overnight (again) I found myself going from feeling moderately unwell to 'holy crap I can't move, and how the hell do I make a cup of coffee again?' - the cognitive dysfunction was so bad that I had to ask my mother to make the decision to have me and my son stay at her house that night.

Therapy

This one's going to be personal. I know what you're thinking, all my posts are personal. Yes, they are. But not like talking about therapy. I mean really, you can't get more personal. So why? Because it's come up a few times in the last little while, that I end up talking about my experience with therapy, and I happen to have an awful lot of it to share!

So what is therapy? In many ways, it's easier to say what it's not. It's not someone telling you how to fix your problems. It's not a friendship. It's not about exposing every aspect of yourself. It's not about just getting validation or being told you're awesome. It's also not about "oh poor me" "there there." It's not about blame or shame, or navel-gazing-style, or wallowing, or self-aggrandization. It is most definitely not just for people with mental health issues, severe or otherwise. It's not hard, but it's also not easy.

It is more like an exploration of what it is that shapes you and your relationship to everything in this world, including yourself, guided by someone who is able to compassionately help you see things you don't necessarily want to see, so you can get past them and live a happier healthier life. It's about airing the things you can't talk about with your friends and family and in doing so taking away their power over you. It's about getting through the harder bits and pieces of life without crashing and burning, and it's about personal growth. Sometimes it's fun, and sometimes it's really really painful.

Slowing down

Last time, I wrote about how I would love to find a way to slow down when life is speeding up around me. I am super happy and proud to report that I did it! In fact, I was sure it had been at least a month since I blogged, and that I'd been off Facebook for several weeks. Turns out I'm ten days short of a month, and my fb hiatus lasted at most a week.

That's how slow I've taking things.

The most wonderful part of all of this, is that it's all in my head. No really, it's all in how I choose to approach the situations in which I find myself. Which means that part of it is actually in my control! What an incredible discovery that was for me.

Universality and Uniqueness

Sycnhronicity is amazing. There was a lesson I needed, and the universe conspired to put certain people and things in my vicinity so that I could see it, should I choose to. You know I choose to.

So here it is. We are Universal and we are Unique - yet another paradox to ponder. The common threads, the big picture - when you look at life like that, you can see it - when you live openly, it is there. This is my story: I was born whole. I was broken. I hit rock bottom. I remembered who I was. I chose to be that, and I evolved. Life had ups, and downs. I continue to evolve.

It's a simple story. And common. And yet, the details of it are unique to me. Where and when I was born, my familial heritage, my teachers, my influences are only mine. My DNA is unique, my fingerprints, my physical being - there is only one like me. Even my sister and I remember our childhoods and the adults that shaped them very differently, and we were very close, in age, and emotionally. The reasons I broke, how I hit rock bottom, how I came to remember and the ways in which I evolved are all in detail only things that I could have experienced. My thoughts are my own, born of each individual experience on this planet. Mine and only mine. Nobody can ever share my unique perspective. And yet. My story is universal.

Backyard Camping

Three in a row - this must be a personal record. But there's so much I'm processing right now, and it is so helpful to blog about it.

Yesterday was tough. Physically, and emotionally, which comes back to the physical toll. My son took the news much much better than I could have imagined. Which means (I'm taking credit, yes, owning my strengths!) that I laid it out for him in a way that made sense to him, and gave him the time to process it. His initial reaction was "well, it's cancelled for you, but I can still go, right?" I was so super proud, because I had honestly been expecting a totally different reaction.

Because I was already so tired out, I really leaned on the other adults in my village to help me help him decide whether or not going on his own was a really good idea, and as it has turned out, he is now in the tent, in the backyard, sleeping with my Mom.

So tonight's post is all about gratitude, because that is what I need to express right now.

Getting Ready and the Herxheimer Effect

This week, we are going on our annual camping trip. If you read the posts about this last year, then you know we go to a beautiful place, with the same people every year. We've been doing so for 6 years now, since my son and the other family's oldest daughter were very little. Every year since, we've had other families join, or not, with varying numbers of people.  Last year's trip was really great and we all know what to expect of me this year - basically, nothing.

The counterbalance to that is that my son is getting older and more capable. Last week, at the cottage with his step-mom, he loaded and unloaded all the groceries, and pulled the kayaks in and out of the water, all by himself. Camping, he is all set to build and strike the tent, pump up the air mattress (which is a major change for me as of last year - I usually go rough, jut a mat, but my body has needs now), and carry all our stuff. Now, will that change again when we get there? Probably, a bit. Although the other children are becoming more involved in the set-up as well, and that helps him stay on course.

This weekend my sister took me (in the wheelchair) to Canadian Tire to pick up the last few things we needed - more ice packs for the cooler, a new camping chair - stuff like that. Step one, done. Some of the camping things from last year are still in the dining room, so I sorted those out. Step two, done. Went to the basement and assessed what needs to be brought upstairs. Step three, done. Ordered groceries online, to be delivered today. Step four, partially done. Started fixing the recliner that broke last year, covering it with duct tape (yay duct tape!), doing bits and pieces at a time. Step five, partially done. Still need to pack everything up and bring some things upstairs. Steps six and seven not even started. But I'm doing well with this whole getting ready in small and mangaeable steps thing.

Busy Busy August

I've been quiet here all month, but not because nothing's going on. In fact, a lot has been going on. And I hit the point of needing to recover and I have, mostly, and still have a bit more compensating to do.
So let's play catch-up!

As I may or may not have written, my summer schedule organization was complex enough for me to feel the need to open separate google calendars for myself and my son. I have been coordinating his life between 5 households, including mine. Yep. Fun stuff. Especially on the foggy days. But it has all been going very smoothly, thanks in great part to my sister and brother-in-law who drove downtown in rush hour to camp and back for three weeks straight with all four of our kids in the van - not sure how they stayed sane.

The first weekend in August, we had the immense pleasure of hosting my aunt Cuq (who is familiar to all regular readers) and Ish (yes, it's a nickname). They were here for a very brief but so very warm and lovely visit. The best part was that most of the visit was just hanging out. I did, however, make it out to two dinners - two dinner in proper restaurants, with lots of people in one wekeend! That is definitely a record for me. The best part of being with Cuq and Ish is that there are no expectations - they know me and accept me and love me and accomodate me and protect me. They are family after all, so I don't feel weird about dropping off in the middle of a sentence, or just putting my head down in the middle of a conversation. That's pretty awesome.

Change and the Physiological Response

Oh. My. God! I just got it. I wrote the title to this, and I got it. See, this is why I blog! Wow.

I was about to write that my dear friend, Maggie, who sometimes comments on my posts, came over last night, and we both being so intrigued by life, brains, and personal growth, got to talking about my brain and symptoms, and those of someone close to her with a mental health issue, and how they compare (a lot of them are frighteningly similar). Then I wrote "Change and the Physiological Response" and I flashed to this morning, and my involvement with the Montessori Canadian centenary celebration, and my involvement with people in general, and my distinct need to cocoon, especially when flaring. It all makes sense now.

Ok, let me go back a bit. Before I went into a state of extreme healing, I had some resistance to change, as we all do. However, I was also incredibly spontaneous, and made a real effort through most of my adult life to let go of that, and I was quite successful - you have to be to a) live with my family, and b) work in a Montessori setting. No option. At all. But since I've been home, I've been getting this really strong reaction to the slightest unexpected situations. I know how it comes off - it comes off as me being cranky and stubborn. But it's not - it's an actual physiological response.

Honouring our Teacher and Friend

A couple of weeks ago, my family lost somebody very special, as did everyone I knew in my childhood. I had not been able to bring myself to write about it, because I honestly had not been ready.

My parents met her somewhere around high school and university. She was one of the first Montessori teachers in Mexico, and she was my sister's first teacher. Olga created more than a school - she created a community, within which parents formed such strong bonds that time and space have not eroded.

Myself, I was in her school for only one year. But Olga's friendship with my parents influenced my life in ways I cannot describe, and cannot count. Her passion for Montessori was contagious, her will indomitable and her voice was strong. My parents had learned about Montessori through my uncle's first wife, and had received the seminal "The Absorbent Mind" when my mother was first pregnant with my sister. When it came time to look for schools, they explored their options, and realized that their friend Olga offered the one that best suited them, what they valued, and what they wanted for us daughters. And Olga became my sister's first, and probably most influential, teacher.

Tired Today

Today was the first day in a week that I woke up tired. I mean beyond the norm. The new norm. Do you know what I mean? I'm not sure I know what I mean.

Since November 2008, my sleep has been less than refreshing, overall. But within that, there is a huge variance, and I can usually tell what kind of day I'm going to have by how my body feels those first few moments of waking. The last couple of weeks, since I moved home, I have felt awake faster, and lighter. I was surprised the other day when I got up and without even thinking about it, just reached into a drawer to get dressed. I have gotten rather used to thinking about it - calculating how much energy I have, and what my day will bring, what the chances are that I will be back upstairs before I leave the house, and so forth. But I didn't have to do that this week. That's pretty awesome.

This morning, my wrists and ankles were heavy, and it took all the effort in the world to roll over, never mind get up. And I'm glad to say it was a surprise! And also, I'm absolutely sure I know why.

Updates: mold, naturopath, California, sleep

So long since I've written, and in part because there is much and yet little going on.

There is little going on in terms of my physical and emotional condition; I am still fatigued, malaised, in discomfort etc etc. I am still struggling with sleep. I am still dealing with the emotional fallout of this long relapse, and the discovery of mold.

Yes, that's the big news - we had people come in, and found high levels of mold in my basement, my bedroom, my parents' basement, and to a lesser extent my living room and the bedroom in which I sleep at my parent's house. Joy oh joy. It's not like we already had enough to deal with. And I'm so glad I can say "we" instead of "I".

Aunthood vs Parenthood - I miss my boy!

So I'm on day 12 of this cold, and I'm really done with it now. I wish it would just get up and leave now, thank-you very much. Unfortunately, such viruses are rarely so polite and accomodating. Ah well. But it is getting better, and I am feeling much more myself today.

The holiday weekend came and went with my hardly noticing, since my family does not celebrate Christmas and I did not leave the house. The only real difference was that yesterday, my mom came over, and her energy was somehow less agitated - probably because she is headed into two weeks of holidays from school and my sister is out of town. Today my two besties came over, brought and set out and cleaned up lunch, and hung out with me for a while. It was so very very nice.

It is also 4 days since I heard from my son, which feels un-right. It doesn't feel wrong, exactly - I mean, he's been away before, and I know he's in very capable, trustworthy and protective hands. I'm certainly not worried, or anxious about it. But, he is my son, and as any parent (and really only parents - possibly mothers? I don't know... haven't talked to any dads about this) can understand, he is always in my thoughts, even when he's as far as could be. He is a part of me, and always will be. And independent as we both are, it feels odd not to have heard anything from him for so long.

Another Cold

I was planning two posts this week, one about my observation at my son's school, and one about my latest Osteopathy and Gestalt sessions, but I got sidetracked in a major way by a cold that hit me... when was it?... Thursday, I think... No really sure.
(Warning: little bits of potentially offensive language below - I'm feeling particularly expressive this morning, perhaps because I haven't been able to speak my mind fully in a few days)

I feel like I'm in a daze, and it's not brain fog - it feels different - but it's similar. I am more distracted and my memory is shorter than usual. I'm forgetting lots of things - I know I am - that I need to do or deal with... more than usual, if it's not sitting right in front of me with flashing lights, it doesn't exist. Until someone asks, and then I want to slap my own forehead and moan "oh shit, not again. But since that someone is usually my son, or within hearing range of him, I do actually hold my tongue.

Life getting in the way again

Is it possible to be doing better and worse at the same time? It must be, because I am.

Last week was one heck of a week. After the lice infestation was cleared out, and I buzzed my boy's hair down to almost nothing, he was hit with the stomach flu that's been making rounds at the school.

11:30pm, the poor thing stumbles out of bed, and throws up all over the bathroom floor. Man, I hate it when they don't make it to the toilet! So there I am, already in a state of compensation, trying to calm and settle him back down, and clean up the bathroom before things get really smelly. I managed. Somehow. 2am and here we go again. Except this time he did make it to the toilet, which made me quite a happy mom. What didn't make me so happy (although it did in a way) is that he felt the need to crawl into my bed after that - while it is lovely and comforting and all that, it makes for a much less deep and restful sleep for me.

One Year.

One year ago, my remission ended. I knew my immune system was trying to deal with a cold, and instead of lying down and letting it pass as I had during the rest of my remission, I pushed forward, because my trainer was in town, and she was speaking at a parent evening along with one of my students about the continuum of Montessori education. That was an event I could not miss. And I'm still glad I didn't miss it, for all it cost me.

I was so proud that night. My student, let's call him Gord, had written a speech about what he gained during each level of schooling. He wrote beautifully about his memories and thoughtfully about what he'd gained as a student at our school. I barely helped him polish the speech, more listened and helped him to do it himself, just like any good Montessori teacher would do. It was so good, that even his mother couldn't believe he wrote it himself.

Creepy Crawlies

The lice infestation that has several schools in the area sending kids home for a couple of months has finally hit my house. I'd been hoping against hope that we'd be spared. But alas. A part of me is laughing - I think it's funny. I really do. Part of me says no big deal. But most of me wants to go crawl under the covers with a good book and just stay there.

We managed to avoid the first two rounds of kids being sent home, and I've been checking my son's head every night as we watch TV. My sister's children have all had it, and she keeps fighting them off, but each time we think they're clear...

Tonight, as he was itching at the dinner table, I decided to do a more thorough check and did indeed found two nits. No problem, I thought, having experienced this before. Two nits is not so bad. I thought I'd just comb him out tonight, and do a treatment tomorrow with my niece and nephews.

First Set of Volunteer Hours - Interesting experience

Since September, I have had two periods of more intense and necessary healing. Both times have been in the last two weeks, and I'm pretty sure the one I'm in now has to do with not getting enough rest last time. But both are clearly attributable to another cold, and to exertion beyond my normal abilities.

I am trying to look at this as a good thing. It really is, in so many ways. My therapist last night helped me see that I deserve forgiveness from myself for making the mistakes I made that led me here. Once I forgive myself, I can easily embrace my mistakes as stepping stones. But getting there is not always easy.

Last time I wrote, I was nervous about starting volunteer hours at the school. Right. So, I went in, and I was surprised by my initial emotional response, which was to hide in the office without seeing anyone. I was surprised by that, because previous time I was in the building, for the meeting with my rehab coordinator, I was excited to see my friends, and the mood overall (theirs and mine) was celebratory. But on Tuesday, I felt more like just getting in there, getting my stuff done and getting out. In part I think it's because I know that I need to balance out my energy use, and energy spent being excited and chatting is energy I can't spend working... but I'm also trying not to over-analyze it :)

Another Missed Event

I am getting used to missing events I would like to attend. It's easier every time. I rarely give it a second thought nowadays. But today is a teensy bit different.

There is an association for Montessori teachers, and today is their (our!) annual conference. It is a big deal. 200 or so people who are dedicated (on some level or another) to making this a better world for our children come together to get inspired, refresh themselves, and deepen their understanding of what our profession is and does. My mother was once the president of this organization, and at another time delivered the keynote address. I am technically on the board of the association, although as you can imagine, my contributions have been minimal. I've been published in the organization's newsletter more than a couple of times. I obviously feel connected to this organization, and to the conference.

Since the year I took the Montessori training, I have attended the conference, and enjoyed the networking, the catching up, the gossip and the inspiration. But it's hard to describe what it feels like to sit next to my mother at each and every keynote address (usually in the front row, because those seats are always free, and cuz we like it up close and personal) and through every AGM. We share a mutual pride and purpose. We point things out to each other, take notes, nudge each other, giggle together, roll our eyes when it is warranted, and then we talk about it the whole way home - what we learned, what we thought was silly, who we saw, and who we didn't see. That's what we've done for the past - what is it - 7 years or so.

Compensating again - but what a great Hallow'en!

Hallowe'en is one of my favourite holidays. I get a real kick out of it every single year. This year was no exception.

Somehow, the past few years, my health was good over Hallowe'en. My first bout of extreme healing was in November, and remission came in the spring. Then, the second hit again in November of last year. But this time, one year later, I continue to be in a state of healing and cocooning. I will reflect more on having been recouping for a full year later this month. Today, though, it's all about the Eve of Hallows.

It is the first time I experience Hallowe'en from this point of view. I always knew what went into it, but this year, I guess I really realized how much I value the whole experience.

It all starts with the decorations. Since this home is still fairly new to us, we had not built up an arsenal of decorations. So we started with the shopping. And for that, there is no place better than the dollar store. Being aware of how much that trip, and then the decorating itself would impact me, I actually for once thought ahead, and got it together early.