Monday, December 9, 2024

Dear Jack

It's been just over 2 weeks since he died, but it seems much longer because I wasn't able to talk to him the last couple of months he was alive. 

Jack - my sponsor, mentor, officiant of my wedding, and best friend - isn't here any more.

I've missed him incredibly and today that feeling was increased a thousand-fold.

Jack was my biggest encourager of my work. He's the first one (other than family) who really believed in me and both my photography and writing skills. He gave me advice when I asked but didn't continually critique my work. He told me stories of his own professional experience and others he knew in similar fields.

But mostly, Jack listened to me. He was the one I could always call when I was having a bad day or something was really going wrong. 

I can't remember when we first shared the phrase "the sh*t-truck just dumped another load in my driveway," but it became an ongoing joke as well as a phrase I would use if my call was an SOS.

The first time I had fun with this phrase was to give him a note that a family in a 3rd world country was going to get a gift of manure in his name. Now, that sounds like a joke in itself, but it's really a prized gift for a family doing trying to make a living through gardening. This was a legit Christmas present through an organization who helps feed families in 3rd world countries and give them the skills for jobs.

But the main time it was used was when I had a setback with my freelance business or my mental health (anxiety/depression/hypomania) got in the way of living life. I would call and I just had to say that the truck was back, and he knew where I was and how he could help.

Well, today was the first time that truck has dropped off a load since he's been gone. My tears for what happened weren't that extreme until I realized I couldn't call and talk to him about it... ever again.

Today has been a rough day, to say the least. I'm still reeling from the news I got and exhausted from the crying I've done so I'll make this short. My plan is to come back here and share things about him as I remember them, but as it's hard to keep up with this blog as it is, no promises.

But for now, I just want to say to him once again what I always said before leaving an in-person meeting or hanging up the phone: "Love you, big brother." (And I will always miss you!!!!)


Sunday, December 1, 2024

It's the Holidays Again

Today is December 1, 2024. 

Thanksgiving was this past week. After an almost-full-blown panic attack, I made it to my family gathering and did okay. Otherwise, this week hasn't been that eventful. Work is slim this time of year so at least I didn't have a lot of commitments I had to fulfill. I'm thankful because I also wasn't feeling well.

Part of the reason I wasn't feeling well was that this past Sunday morning my sponsor, mentor, and one of my best friends, Jack, passed away. I knew he was in the hospital but he didn't want any visitors so he wouldn't tell me where he was. He quickly became too weak to talk or text though I was pretty sure he wouldn't make it, when I got a voicemail from his brother-in-law, it was still a shock. I've been crying off and on all week. I miss him terribly.

That loss, combined with the upcoming holidays (with very, very limited resources and energy for gifts, decorating, and Christmas activities), my back getting worse, my mom's own back surgery not having worked, my depression deepening, my left eardrum bursting for the 4th time in the last few months, and my husband's auto-immune disorder really acting up... I'm not in a great place right now. Oh - and in two days will be the first anniversary of my dad dying.

What gets me more than anything is that I'm supposed to feel happy this time of year. At this moment, I'm sitting at church during the before-service worship team practice where my husband is playing percussion. It's not practical due to distance to take separate cars, so I almost always come with him, even though I then have about 2 hours to kill early on Sunday morning.

I had been out of town for several Sundays and wasn't feeling well last Sunday so I didn't go (which actually worked out well because I would have been a basket case if I heard the news about Jack's passing while at church).

Upon arrival today, I saw the church full of Christmas trees and decorations. The worship team is practicing Christmas songs along with some of the regular worship songs. Most people would absolutely love having this before-church time to sit here and enjoy the beautiful surroundings and music.

But not me.

All I want to do is cry - and the hidden pressure to be really happy just makes it worse. I don't know how I'll make it through worship (the singing part) this morning because I'm so down. I'm scared that the wall that was being torn down around my heart about worship is being built again - but I seem powerless to stop it.

I was starting to really lose it when I realized I needed to write and get it all out (thus this post).

Anyway, I'm sorry that this is such a downer. I wrote it because it's one of the best ways for me process my feelings. However, I'm posting it here to let others know that if they aren't feeling happy or joyous about the holidays - you aren't alone. 

But even as I wrote the last paragraph, I'm reminded about my Thanksgiving experience. The morning of Thanksgiving, I was really stressed and overwhelmed. I decided I couldn't deal with the family, planning to instead eat Chinese buffet by myself. But by the afternoon, I was doing better and I not only went, but had a pretty good time. 

So keep in mind that circumstances and moods can change. Just because you feel horrible this hour, or day, or week, doesn't mean it'll last all month. 

One more thing... Go back and find where I wrote the phrase "powerless to stop it." Yes, I am powerless. Recognizing this is the first step in any addiction recovery program - and I'm sure it works in this case too. I'm powerless concerning so much of my life, which is why I have to rely on a higher power (in my case, God). 

I'll try to keep these things in mind along with you - as we all face the Christmas season of 2024. Just like so many Christmas seasons I've dreaded in the past, January WILL come - with all of its own issues, hurts, disappointments... and good times. Nothing is all good but nothing is all bad. 

We can make it through whatever we're facing. Just take the next right step (another addition recovery statement).

Whatever we do, we have to just keep going.

(For a funny post about a past Thanksgiving, go to https://www.spotlightonstigma.com/2019/08/ah-family-trigger-warning-suicide.html)

Thursday, October 10, 2024

Perspective Shift on Homelessness Due to a Family Member

(Before I start, I want you to know that I do realize there's a better way to refer to the homeless now, but, for the life of me, I can't remember what it is. I'll update this if I ever think of it.)

There is a lot of controversy over what to do about the homeless population. Some say to not give them money because it just fuels their addictions. Others say that it's the Christian thing to do - to help those in need.

I have been torn between the two - at times doing one and sometimes the other.

But there's nothing like having a situation like this get personal for it to change your perspective...

One of my nephews has a few mental health issues - the kind that make living a typical life almost impossible. He's incredibly smart and had an incredible future ahead of him before all this happened. 

He had an episode before he was diagnosed where he was violent. This kid (I still think that though he's almost 30) is one of the most tranquil, laid-back individuals I've ever known. It was definitely his disease that made him act up like he did.

But his family (yes - my extended family) didn't understand. They wanted him to "snap out of it" and to get a job so he could get his life together. His mom kicked him out of her house. At the time, with therapy, medication, and government help, he was able to get an apartment and a job.

Though it wasn't easy - he had to walk and take the bus to and from work in Maine in the winter - he was able to keep going.

Until he wasn't.

Psych meds are some of the worst to manage. They usually have truly awful side effects so it's so tempting to stop taking them when a person starts to feel better. Or they stop working after a while. It often takes 6-8 weeks - or more - for them to even start working so it's a loooooong process to find a new one when needed.

I went through that merry-go-round with anti-depressants. I tried almost everything, alone or in combination, over several years. Nothing worked. I found out later it was because I was misdiagnosed and actually had bipolar disorder, which is another issue with these meds - and this field of medicine.

Well, my nephew was experiencing really bad side effects. He's smart enough to do research on his own and he found out what was causing the issues. He decided to wean himself off some of them.

At first, it was wonderful... amazing. He felt so much better. He had hopes and dreams again. He started writing music again. He decided to go back to school.

Then it wasn't.

After a while, the effects of not taking all his meds meant that he started showing signs of his disease again. This led to another big episode, more violence. 

He was again kicked out of his home.

This time, he had nowhere to go except for his car. He's officially homeless. It breaks my heart but there's nothing I can do about it. 

My husband and I barely have enough room for ourselves and there's a good chance our daughter (who is in a similar situation but currently is still living with her ex), might have to move in at any time. We are struggling financially and are also helping our daughter until she hopefully can get a job herself.

The only reassuring aspect of all this is knowing that he's strong and hopefully can figure a way out. His immediate family still tells him to snap out of it and get a job. I tell them to lay off him. He needs love and support, not to be told to do what he wants to do but obviously can't. But they aren't listening to me.

Anyway, that rant is beside the point.

What really made me change my perspective...

My mom, who talks to him just about every day (and is his biggest supporter), told me that one way he's making it is to collect cans and turn them in to earn a few dollars. 

One day about a week ago, he was counting change at a McDonald's to get a hot meal when a man saw him. He gave him $20. 

I teared up when Mom told me. I was so thankful for the compassion of this stranger toward my nephew. 

And then it hit me - he's homeless. He is literally no different than those who live on the street, those who so many say need to be moved out of sight, those who so many say deserve or chose the life they have.

Honestly, some probably have, for various reasons. But I know the power of addiction, how mental health issues can overwhelm the strongest person, how a series of bad circumstances can cause the most industrious person to lose housing. A friend of mine has a dearly loved son who is homeless due to addiction. 

My nephew is there because of mental health. My daughter is only one step away from there due to circumstances.

None are lazy. None chose this life. All had hopes and dreams that have been taken away.

There isn't an easy answer. 

But I do know one thing.

They DON'T need to hear that they need to get jobs. They DON'T need to hear that they need to snap out of it. They DON'T need to feel they are worthless.

They are sons, daughters, dads, moms, employees, artists - and nephews. They are important. They are worth being supported.

Somehow, some way, we need to figure out how to help them realize those things - and help them in tangible ways to get out of the situation they are in so that they can get back to who they wanted to be before life got in the way.


Saturday, October 5, 2024

Random Thoughts about the Book of Isaiah (and the Bible in General)

If you have read this blog for any length of time, you know that I'm all over the place. Topics for posts vary from true stigmas to random thoughts I have about life.

So, you shouldn't be surprised that seemingly out of the blue I'm writing a post about a well-known, but only partially loved, book in the Old Testament. You also shouldn't be surprised that I'm extremely honest about how I feel concerning a topic - even when it's against what many believe.

Let me 'splain...

First, some background.

I have a friend who was an acquaintance for a long time but with whom recently I've gotten to know better. She has a podcast called "Meet Me in Isaiah." According to its Facebook page, this podcast's main message is to "share the Good News of Jesus Christ by creatively promoting Isaiah 53. Written about 700 years before Jesus' birth, Isaiah 53 is a precise and concise description of Who He is and what He did for us."  

Here's part 1 of the honesty portion of this blog: I have heard her ask many times for people she could interview for her podcast at meetings we've both attended. I think she's even asked me directly if I would do so at some of them, but I was always able to dodge the bullet. 

For about the past six months or so, we've also been trying to schedule another podcast she helps with that concerns my life as a creative freelancer. A couple of weeks ago we finally were able to pull it off and get that dang podcast recorded. (Whew!)

After we were done, it happened. She directly asked. It was just three of us in the room. No dodging possible.

There were two problems that arose - 1) I wanted to say yes and 2) I had no idea what I'd talk about.

Now for part 2 of being blatantly honest: I don't read the Bible. I haven't in years... decades. The summarized version as to why has to do with my past in various churches. 

You see, the vast majority of churches say they know that they way their interpretation of scripture is the only truly correct one. But how can they all be right? Since it's not possible, which one is? 

Are any of them? 

After I started thinking about this, reading scripture became an overwhelming task, a chore. Constantly trying to discern the "right" interpretation of a verse, chapter or book was too much. Wondering if the Bible was really true (yes, I'm one of those Christians)... Knowing that translations are often different and trying to decide which one is correct. Questioning over and over - are any of them?

Then into the picture comes another friend I have nicknamed Pineapple. Pineapple, who feels very much like I do about church (more on that another time). Pineapple, who loves Jesus and loves me. Pineapple, who absolutely loves scripture...

She has spent the past year praying that I would once again love Scripture. She doesn't judge me or push me but instead would give me tiny nudges about it just about every time we talked. 

One day she gave me a gift - a children's Bible, one that is somewhat unique in that all of the stories tie into how Jesus is woven throughout all of those 66 books. 

I appreciated the gift greatly, but even a children's Bible was too much. It was placed on a shelf on the table beside where I sit in my den and occasionally I would pull it out, trying to make myself read it. I would put it where I would see it whenever I sat there - with the thought that this placement would remind me to read it. 

Time would pass and I would put it back on the shelf with other books - feeling guilty whenever I did so. After a while I would pull it back out - feeling guilty whenever I did so (because I still wouldn't read it). Even without being pressured, the guilt was there. I knew I should be reading it but still couldn't make myself.

I simply couldn't get past being overwhelmed about opening it.

Then, about a month ago, some stuff changed in my heart. I started actually reading.

So, when my podcaster friend approached me about being on "Meet Me in Isaiah," this time I thought about it instead of instantly dismissing it.

Since then I've been thinking about what verse or verses I would highlight if I took her up on the offer. One thing that I still feel strongly about is that pulling a random verse out of the Bible can be risky. Yes, it's possible to do so to a helpful affect, but it's also very possible to pull a phrase, sentence, or paragraph out of context, which can be at best misleading, and at worst, downright dangerous.

So, I didn't want to randomly choose a verse.

Isaiah is also a complex, somewhat scary, book that includes prophesies of the downfall of several places. 

Due to having anxiety disorder and panic disorder, I already don't watch the news. I'm just not up at this time for delving into those parts of Isaiah. However, if I pick and choose the chapters I read, it's just a longer method of cherry-picking verses.

So reading the entire book of Isaiah is out. Randomly picking a chapter is out. And though there are a LOT of amazing verses in Isaiah, those are all well-known. I'll bet those verses have been discussed on the podcast many times.

I just realized that this whole post explains what I said in the first place - how reading the Bible is extremely complicated, perplexing, and frustrating - at least for me. 

Now I just have to figure out what to do about it... and hopefully one day I can be a guest on the "Meet Me in Isaiah" podcast without anxiety.

Saturday, September 28, 2024

On Saturday, September 28, 2024, I'm Grateful For...

This week I was reminded about a principle integral to Christianity, addiction recovery, and almost any type of counseling currently offered.

That principle is gratefulness.

Today has been a rough day. A lot has gone wrong - but a lot has also gone right. When things were going wrong this morning my husband joked and called me a pessimist. 

He was right.

So I set out to prove him wrong and proceeded to turn all of the things that went wrong for the rest of the day into something I could be grateful for. 

But what do you do when you have a fight with that same man and then it suddenly feels like there's absolutely nothing to be grateful for no matter how hard you try and no matter how you felt just an hour or two earlier?

It took me a while, but then it just hit me like a ton of bricks (ouch!)...

...I need to be grateful anyway.

I'm still mad at him. I'm still hurt by what started it. I still don't know how to get through the rest of the evening processing these feelings.

But there's a lot to be grateful for even in the anger... and the hurt... and the uncertainty.

So, here I go. My goal is to write 25 things I'm grateful for (and honestly, I know this just scratches the surface but I do need to get some sleep tonight).

So, on Saturday, September 28, 2024, I'm grateful for...

  1. the computer I'm typing this list on
  2. my blog where hopefully this pain (and solution) will help someone else
  3. the husband I'm so mad at right now (but still love in spite of it)
  4. the daughter I got back after several years of her being sick and so far away from me
  5. getting to be on a worship team for the first time in a very long time
  6. getting to be on said worship team with the husband who I'm mad at
  7. my ergonomic keyboard
  8. my cell phone with an S-pen (I've wanted one for years)
  9. the diet peach tea that I'm drinking that tastes like real peaches
  10. the weighted wrist brace I was able to make that helps me deal with my essential tremors without meds
  11. that my new camera body wasn't broken after all
  12. the new battery I was able to get for my car - and put on a payment plan because right now finances are tight
  13. the free pet food that I was able to get for my daughter and her fur babies
  14. the many opportunities I've gotten to do through photography and writing that I never, ever could have even dreamed about a decade ago
  15. the cooler weather today (and this time I think it's here to stay!)
  16. losing weight
  17. the under-desk bicycle thing that helps my restless leg syndrome (RLS) when I'm working
  18. my SUV (an item I never really wanted but can't imagine not having now)
  19. a camera harness that doesn't hurt my neck
  20. my very cute-and-tiny fur baby of my own
  21. cool looking business cards that I designed and that I'm actually proud of
  22. little bitty colorful clothespins that I can use to put up reminders of what I need to think about when things like this happen
  23. getting - not having - to live with my mom (and if you've known me long, you know how much of a miracle that is)
  24. friends who support and pray for me
  25. that someone (I can't even remember who at the moment) reminded me how important being grateful is...
... and SO much more!

Thank you, God. Thank you, friends. Thank you, couselors and pastors and mentors... 

Being grareful may not change anything that I can actually see, touch, hear, smell and taste, but in a major way, it actually changes everything.

Thursday, September 5, 2024

The Difference between Judgement and Compassion

Judgement. Something that I completely hate that others do. In fact, the premise of this blog is to counteract the judgement that so many feel towards those with invisible illnesses - and the judgement that is felt by those individuals.

However, judgement is an aspect of my life that I hate, but have a hard time overcoming. (See my 9.16.19 post about this: https://www.spotlightonstigma.com/2019/09/judging.html.) 

I judge so much - I judge the food I eat; I judge the work I've done; I judge how I act (and how much I fail). After all, I'm not only the most important peson in the world, I'm always right.

(God, forgive me!)

In case this is your first post, something you need to know is that I deal with bipolar type 2 as well as having other mental health issues. One of the effects of all this is latching onto a topic and not letting go until I've completely exhausted learning about it. YouTube is my best friend in this pursuit (or my worst enemy, depending on your perspective.)

Sometimes I don't even know how I started with a new topic. (I guess I can thank the almighty YouTube's algorithm.) But sometime this past month I started watching actual court proceedings. 

The main topic that drew me there was watching a video about a "SovCit" (sovereign citizen). This is a group of people who feel that the government doesn't have any control over them. They have a completely crazy script they use, especially during a traffic stop or in a court hearing. I advise looking them up if you are even a little bit interested, as it really is fascinating.

This led to more generic court hearings - about "Karens," spoiled brats, or, on the flip side, compassion showed within some of the courts hearings. 

Sprinkled in with these were some regular court hearings - all kinds of cases like landlord disputes, custody issues, and, of course, various criminal matters.

One day I saw one of those videos and the judge allowed the defendent to share her story. I really felt for her. In my humble opinion, she wasn't completely responsible for what she did. I think that she had some mental health issues that affected her thought processes and actions.

I later told my husband about that case and I was trying to justify how I felt compassion for her when I laughed at and judged some of the others. (I already confessed that I struggle with this so don't judge - lol!)

It was then that I had an epiphany. The difference between those I made fun of and that one young girl was that I heard her backstory. I knew how she got to where she currently was. I could identify with some of the thiings that had happened to her and recognized that "except for the grace of God go I." 

It changed everything. I still judge, unfortunately, but I'm better about pausing and thinking about why someone is doing what they are doing, not just judging their actions.

So, when you start to judge, try to stop for a moment and think about the why and not just the what that person is doing. After all, the difference between judgement and compassion is simply knowing someone's backstory.



Sunday, September 1, 2024

Body Dysmorphic Disorder (BDD), Part 2

Note: If you want to read the background on how I got to this realization, find and read my post titled "Body Dysmorphic Disorder (BDD), Part 1."

So... to pick up where I left off, the thrush and gastroperesis were gone but my taste buds never came back completely. I was able to eat a greater variety of foods but there are still some that still don't taste right 6 months since I stopped the treatment.

The worst ones are chocolate, anything tomato based (ketchup, salsa, pasta sauce...), some ways chicken is prepared, and potatoes. Do you know how many foods are made with one of those things? I didn't realize until this happened. 

The first time I braved going out to eat, I insisted on going to a Chinese buffet. There were too many foods I didn't like and I didn't want to buy a meal (a splurge right now because we still haven't gotten caught up from the months of Dad's illness, death and my illnesses) that I wouldn't be able to eat.

At a buffet I could get a bite or two of all kinds of foods and see what I liked. 

That first time, I realized lo mein and the crab/cheese bake were okay and sesame chicken and egg rolls (former favorites) weren't. Sushi, something I had grown to like in the last few years, was a food I "lost" (as I called it). Other lost Chinese foods I previously loved were coconut shrimp, crab legs, and mongolian beef.

One major result of this issue was the fast food and quick meal impact. No longer could I run by McDonald's and get a cheap burger and fries in the middle of a day of errands. I couldn't make a sandwich and chips - the sandwich was incredibly boring not liking any condiments and the chips were potato based.

Losing chocolate was a bummer. As a food addict, though I was doing better than ever from working with a nutritionist, I still often gravitated to carbs, especially chocolate when stressed or depressed. Of course, all this made me even more stressed and depressed, so it was a rough time.

However, even though this has been incredibly diificult to adapt to, there has been one really good consequence - I've been losing weight without trying. Not only were there less foods I liked but during the time I had gastroperesis, my stomach shrank. I started only being able to eat about half of a meal before I was full.

Okay... FINALLY I'm getting to the point of this two-part post - body dysmorphic disorder.

I haven't weighed in years. The few times I had to weigh for medical reasons (surgery, etc) and worked hard to not see the number but saw it anyway put me into a deep depression.

So I don't know how many pounds I've lost. But my clothes started hanging on me. 

A couple of weeks ago I got brave enough to pull out the clothes I haven't been able to wear  for about 6-7 years - and they mostly fit. (Because my body shape has changed, some shirts were still tight but most weren't.)

Once I started noticing the change, I got excited - then became terrified. One of the reasons I haven't tried to lose weight for the past decade or so is because every time I was successful, I'd gain it back - and more. What if this was another short-term weight loss? What if I hoped that I might actually become somewhat normal only to have that hope bashed?

I started paying more attention to my weight. I started noticing how my clothes fit. In fact, it was more than paying attention/noticing... I started obsessing over it.

Some days I felt "skinny" (a perspective thing, as I still am waaaay overweight) and others I felt like I hadn't lost any. 

But weight doesn't fluctuate like that - not that much. 

And this was when I had an epiphany. The term "body dysmorphia" popped into my mind. I learned about it when I did all of the research about my daughter's and my newly recognized eating disorders.

According to Dr Google, body dysmorphia disorder (BDD) is "a mental health condition in which you can't stop thinking about one or more perceived defects or flaws in your appearance - a flaw that appears minor or can't be seen by others. But you may feel so embarrassed, ashamed, and anxious that you may avoid many social situations."

It's sometimes called "phantom fat" or "phantom fat disorder" and another symptom is people who have lost weight still perceiving themselves as very large or heavy.

This is the main symptom that I recognized that morning. Since then, I've done more research and I realize I have some of the other symptoms. 

I always thought that the way to overcome an eating disorder - and the way to see that you've succeeded - was to change your eating habits. I totally forgot that the psychology behind having an eating disorder is not only the cause, but part of the cure.

There's more work to be done, but at least I'm back on the path to making it happen.


Sunday, August 25, 2024

Body Dysmorphic Disorder (BDD), Part 1

I've known I have an eating disorder for about 5-6 years now. I've had weight issues my whole life and knew I wasn't "normal." After analyzing it more, I feel I was born with it - or got it very soon after. 

It was an essay I found in my baby book that proved that I haven't been a typical eater since I was a toddler. My older brother (nine years older) had a class assignment where he wrote about his "My Red-headed Little Sissy."

This was when I was about 2 years old.

One of the main points he had was how if someone went to the kitchen, I "burned the soles off my shoes" getting to the kitchen in case someone was eating.

That's just not normal.

However, I didn't know that someone overweight could have an eating disorder - I had the stereotypical perception of an eating disorder as someone who starved, threw up, and/or excessively exercised until my daughter, also overweight, was diagnosed with one (I can't remember the exact name so I won't list it until I confirm it with her.)

When she realized she had an eating disorder and went to treatment for it, I started learning as much as I could about the condition. 

But explaining symptoms, types, etc isn't the reason for this article.

It's about something I recently realized about myself.

A little background...

In November 2023, I got a TERRIBLE case of thrush. My dad had been in the hospital for a couple of months at this point and wasn't doing well. By the time he passed away, I wasn't able to talk. I had what could be best called sores all over the inside of my mouth.

I also wasn't able to eat. It hurt but mostly it was strange. Nothing tasted right. Actually, at that time, there was almost no flavor at all. 

I had no idea where to go for treatment - or if there was even a treatment available. I asked Dr Google more than once. When I still hadn't gotten rid of it a few months later (February 2024), my husband mentioned that an ENT might be able to help. 

Thankfully, I had one already established. It took no time for me to make an appointment.

I got there and yes, it was officially thrush. My heart was beating fast while nervously waiting to hear if there was a medicine or something would help.

There was. He told me about a special compounded (which means the pharmacist combined drugs to make it) mouthwash. I had to swish it for 30 seconds twice a day. 

Though it didn't taste horrible, it didn't taste good. Each morning and evening I had psych myself up in order to take it. It took getting to the bottom of the bottle for it to start working. 

I was so glad to not have to do it any more! I was so ready to get my taste buds back.

Time passed. During my Dr Google search, I saw that it's very easy for it to return. The pessimistic part of me meant that every day I woke up scared it was coming back.

On the other hand, my optimistic side was simply excited to gain my taste buds back. I wanted to be able to eat normally again so much.

The thrush cleared up completely. It never come back. But my taste buds didn't - at least not for a while.

Part 2 of my issue occurred later that month. My doctor had put me back on Ozempic after being off of it for over a year (through my insistence). Somehow, though, he missed how long it had been since I took it so I didn't start off slowly. 

I started back with the strongest dose right away. 

Time passed and I still couldn't eat. My taste buds started to slowly heal so that wasn't the cause. Foods started to taste a little better but I couldn't get anything down. 

No matter how hungry I was, I couldn't eat more than a few bites of food at a time. There were many times that when I tried to take one more bite, I would chew it up and have to spit it out. I just couldn't swallow it.

It was so strange to have hunger pains, to be weak from hunger, to want to eat so much - but not be able to.

At first I didn't attribute this to Ozempic. I wondered if, even though the thrush was visibly gone, there was something else about it that made me not be able to eat.

It took two doses of the Ozempic before I put two and two together. Dr Google told me that one of the side effects was gastroparesis, which it defines as a "long-term condition that causes food to move through the stomach more slowly than normal. It occurs when the stomach muscles that push food through the digestive tract become weakened or impaired."

Symptoms include: nausea, vomiting, bloating, belching, upper abdominal pain, feeling full soon after starting a meal, heartburn, and poor appetite.

I had every single one of the symptoms. 

I never got an official diagnosis. Once I looked up the tests a diagnosis took, I thought I'd try something first - stopping the Ozempic.

Dr Google told me that it took about 5 weeks for the Ozempic to fully leave my system. Hope came back. 

I started ticking off the days, the whole time nervous that it wouldn't work. 

The 5-week mark came and went. It was a little better but I still couldn't eat. 

Another week and it was still improving but the symptoms were still not completely gone.

However... I kept improving. 

However... months later the symptoms still weren't gone.

Stay tuned for Part 2 where I get into what I've recently realized about Body Dysmorphic Disorder.




Sunday, August 18, 2024

Accomplishment Boards to Combat Discouragement

As someone with depression, anxiety, bipolar, and many physical issues, it's easy to get discouraged. It's easy to feel like nothing is going right, that no matter how hard I work, I'm never going to really be able to make this work.

So one day I took an idea a friend had and morphed it into my accomplishment boards. I bought a big magnetic whiteboard, one with a nice black wooden frame. On it I put credentials I had obtained, programs from events I shot and/or covered, tickets that were complimentary because of doing an article on someone, and similar items.

At first, it felt like it was futile. There wasn't much to put on there. There was a lot of white showing.

Then it started filling up. I had to layer items. I had to put multiple lanyards with credentials on hooks. I had to take some of the less noteworthy items off.

I decided to buy another matching whiteboard. 

I divided my stacked items and placed them on the second display.

Once again there was a lot of white shining through.

But I went back and updated this post today. Now there are many, many items on my accomplishment boards. In fact, there are so many that it's almost impossible to put something new on without knocking something old off. I now have a basket I keep everything on. 

I really need a new whiteboard but there's literally no space to hang it in my study. One day I might move things around and take down a picture or two to make space for another one.

But for now, my main goal is to at least occasionally take the time to remember about all that white showing through at first, and how much it's changed - one event/photoshoot/article at a time.

If you get discouraged easily, think about getting an accomplishment board, a star chart (I've done that recently too - to record workouts), or something else that is a reminder that even though there's not much to show of a goal at first, if you keep working on it, chances are good that it will fill up.

And so will you.

Some of my big accomplishments as of 8.18.23 (the last time I tried to list them)

Photography

-        Over 150 original photos published online and in print

-        Had an original photo featured in a national training book for Lifetouch/Shutterfly

-       Featured photographer for local print magazine

-       Received local and national recognition, including two photos chosen as winners in The Birmingham      View Photo Challenge

-      Noteworthy sporting event shoots:

o   The World Games

o   USL and Women’s Premiere League soccer          

o   MLB major and minor league baseball                    

o   MBA G-league basketball                                          

o   NCAA Division I and Division III football                  

o   USFL football

o   High school football

o   High school volleyball                                                  

o   IndyCar                                                                          

o   NASCAR

o   MotoAmerica                                                                   

o   WERA                                                                                

o   SPHL ice hockey                                                               

o   Collegiate women’s gymnastics                           

o   Paraclimbing Nationals                                     

o   Wheelchair Rugby International                          

o   Local 5K races                                                             

o   US floorball                                                                                                                     

-          Noteworthy performance shoots:

o   K-Love Fan Awards Weekend and Red Carpet

o   Darci Lynne, America’s Got Talent winner

o   Winter Jam

o   StarDome Comedy Club featuring Mickey Bell & Eunice Elliott

o   Dancing with the Stars of the Magic City

o   Arangetrams and other local dance recitals

o   The Thorn

-          Noteworthy editorial shoots:

o   Southern Baptist Convention 2019

o   Baptist World Alliance and Baptist World Alliance Women’s Conferences

Writing

-          Over 250 distinct articles published online and in print

-          Won local and national awards, including a grand prize award

-          Writing published in three books (might be four soon)

-          Noteworthy interviews/articles:

o   Jinger Duggar Vuolo of 19 Kids and Counting

o   Darci Lynne, America’s Got Talent winner

o   Jon Erwin, award-winning producer, writer, director

o   Simon Lythgoe, award-winning producer of So You Think You Can Dance, American Idol

o   Michael Jr, comedian

o   Barbara Cross, child of 16th Street’s Baptist’s pastor who lived through the bombing

o   Scott Wesley Brown

o   Chonda Pierce, comedian

o   Jeanne Robertson, comedian

o   Jake Rufe, Birmingham Legion USL soccer player

o   Sting Ray Robb, rookie IndyCar driver

o   Chris and Nik Nikic, 1st person with Down Syndrome to complete a Triathlon

 

Tuesday, July 30, 2024

My Floaters Story (Eye Floaters)

This is my story about eye floaters. It's one of those things that some would chalk up to circumstance... I feel it's God who led to me to a doctor who could fix something that was not only a big annoyance, but interfered with work and life.


I'm a photographer and a writer. My eyes are really important to me. Visual acuity is important to me. Not seeing things that aren't there is also important to me.

Rewind back to Christmas Eve 2022. I wasn't feeling well (it turns out I had the flu and was in the hotel room all day instead of hanging out with my husband's family) but I just thought I was tired at the time.

I started seeing flashes of light in my peripheral vision of my left eye. I sometimes have visual migraines, so I thought it had to do with that, even though this wasn't what typically happens to me with a migraine.

I took some ibuprofen and tried to rest - and not worry. After a while, when my anxiety started ramping up about what was going on, I did some online research (after all, it was Christmas Eve… no doctors) to make sure it wasn't something I needed to deal with immediately.

Thankfully, it wasn't. 

Then I noticed the floaters. I didn't think too much about them at first. I've had floaters before. Never this many or this big, but it's not a new thing.

I really thought they would go away... that they would be reabsorbed (do they do that?) or my brain would learn to ignore them. More research found that usually in six months they would either go away or be bearable to deal with. 

My online searches also revealed a few over-the-counter therapies I could try with no risk. When there was no change after a couple of months, I chose a supplement - L-Theanine - to try. 

It didn't help. I was already taking some other OTC supplements for my eye health since my cataract surgery so I stopped there.

After six months, I went to my eye doctor and asked if there was anything that could be done. He said that eventually my brain should adjust. He may have mentioned laser therapy but if he did, he also discouraged me from going that route. I simply remember leaving the office dejected, with no hope.

Because living with it was the only option I seemed to have, I did so. It got in the way of making my living as a photographer, but what could I do? I had to keep going. Besides, with only one eye affected, I kept in mind that it could have been worse.

Fast-forward to January 2024… It got worse. 

The same thing happened in my right eye. At least this time it wasn't accompanied with the fear of the earlier instance. I knew the signs that indicated if I needed to go to the doctor/ER and I wasn't "seeing" any of them.

More floaters followed. It became harder and harder to ignore them at this point. It affected editing photos and writing more than anything because when I work, I stare at two extra-large monitors. The floaters are worse when you dart your eyes from side to side, which I do constantly when I'm on the computer.

However, though work was affected the most overall, what is really unnerving is the peripheral vision issues. So many times, I would think someone had come up beside me, only to find it was a floater. When driving, I had to be extra careful to make sure the lane was clear (thankfully, I have lane assist with my car!) because a floater could look like a vehicle coming up.

This issue is the biggest problem when I'm doing a photography shoot. I use my peripheral vision a lot while my face is plastered against the viewfinder. Not knowing whether something is real or not in your outer vision gets to you after a while - and makes concentrating on taking photos harder than usual.

Speaking of "getting to you," there's one more reason that I am having a hard time with these little black specks - my mental health. I don't have a diagnosis of OCD, but I definitely have some obsessions and compulsions. These and my other mental health issues make it really difficult to ignore the floaters and they can increase my anxiety (which is regularly high already). 

Then, on a fluke, my mom had an optical issue where she needed a retinal specialist. I had no idea this kind of doctor existed! I took her to the specialist and realized that they might be able to help me.

Asking the tech, she told me that not only did they deal with floaters, the doctor we were seeing had a special interest in them. She added that he had developed a website - www.floaterstories.com - that explains what's going on, its history, the impact of floaters on everyday life, and, obviously, stories from those who have experienced them.

I now knew I had at least a chance of getting rid of them. So I made an appointment.

During the appointment, after several tests to measure my acuity and the number of floaters I have, I waited nervously for the verdict.

He told me what I had feared - that he had seen much worse. However, he went on to say that a condition like this doesn't have a clinical guideline to show definitively whether or not a person should have surgery. It depends on the person and how much the floaters negatively impact his/her life. 

So, I was the one who got to choose. (HUGE sigh of relief!)

Needless to say (but I'm saying it anyway), I'm choosing surgery. There is a risk with any surgery, but I feel that the possibility of being free of these annoying distractions will be worth it.

Fast forward to the surgery on my left eye.

Because I have generalized anxiety disorder, I was nervous going into the surgery, but I was sure of Dr Morris' experience and I knew he would do everything possible to make it successful. 

Of course, there's always a risk so I couldn't be certain it would be okay. However, there's risk walking up and down stairs, traveling to a doctor's appointment, or even eating a thick, perfectly cooked steak. Everything in life has risk.

I had no doubt that in this case, the reward definitely outweighed the risk.

It only took about 24 hours after the surgery to know I was right.

First, the pre-operative instructions were thorough and even though I usually question everything, I didn't have any questions. The directions to the surgical center were complete. I had all of the information I needed to have the procedure without an issue.

Then, Callahan Eye Hospital was amazing - from check-in to recovery. I joked with the nurses who took care of me that I wanted all of my future surgeries there, even if they had nothing to do with my eyes.

Part of it could have been because I was one of the first patients that day, but they got me ready quickly. I was able to have my husband with me while I waited and they even gave me something for anxiety when it got close to time to take me back. 

The surgery didn't take long before I was in recovery. Just like recovery from any procedure that involves anesthesia, I was groggy. I got the typical crackers and soda and then my husband came back to help me get dressed.

Because I woke up with a shield taped over my eye, I didn't know if it "worked." I was told that it could feel a little gritty, like I had something in my eye. When this was the case with me, already knowing it was a possibility assured me that it wasn't a problem.

After I got home, I rested a lot, but honestly, I felt fine. Surgery is always a nice excuse to have someone else take care of you, so I didn't push it (which is what the doctors always recommend anyway). 

The next morning, I had my follow-up appointment and finally got to take off the shield. It worked! My vision in that eye was completely clear - and I didn't even have the slight blurriness that I had been told is a small possibility until your vision settles.

The recovery period involved wearing a shield at night the first week (which was annoying to deal with but not difficult), two different eye drops on a varying schedule (thank goodness for phone alarms), and having a few restrictions like a weight-bearing limit and no heavy chores (oh, darn!)

But all of this was extremely worth it. I don't regret doing this for even a minute. There were only slight inconveniences I had to deal with - and, once again, I emphatically state that the risk was worth the reward.

I immediately knew I wanted to get the right eye fixed so I talked to Dr Morris about it. He wanted me to give it some time and make sure I wanted to risk the surgery again. I knew what I wanted, but waited like he said to do (not like I had a lot of choice – lol).

When I compared eyes, though the left had been worse than the right, with more abundant and darker floaters, the floaters in my right eye were still hampering work and my life in general.

Maybe it's because after the first surgery I was constantly comparing the eye with floaters to an eye with no issues. 

Maybe it's because the floaters seemed to be wispy and larger - not quite as noticeable but more in the way of getting clear vision.

Maybe it's because I use my left eye to see things clearly far away and my right eye for close-up vision (it may sound weird, but your brain adjusts to it). My theory is that my brain has a harder time going back and forth between near and far vision and compensating for it with the floaters in only one eye - but I could be wrong with that.

No matter the reason, it's interesting (and kind of strange) when I again realized it's much more annoying to have floaters in one eye than when I had floaters in both.

Remember that I'm a professional photographer and writer. I need clear vision, especially for editing photos. Before, with floaters in both eyes, the movement of the floaters darting in and out of my vision was annoying.

Now, with my close-up eye having these blur-inducing floaters, it's more than an annoyance. I literally can't see clearly a lot of the time when working. I've found that if I hold my head still and don't move my eyes around, I can see clearly (like when being asked to read an eye chart). 

But in real life, I'm constantly looking around. The floaters' appearances make work and simply living everyday life much more difficult than it needs to be. 

I've been through it before. I knew the risks – but I also knew the rewards. I was very blessed that the rewards outweighed the risks in my first floaters removal surgery.

I was more than willing to risk it again for the second. 

Clear vision is important to everyone but for me, it not only affects my life, but it also really affects my job. I wanted to do whatever it took to get back to where I could see the way I could before all this happened.

So, during a follow-up visit about my left eye, I once again asked Dr Morris about the right eye. We discussed it some and he asked me to make an appointment to look more into what was going on in that eye.

I went into the appointment with the same anxiety I had the first time at this point in the process. Would he think it was bad enough to risk surgery once again? Would I have to learn to live with it?

A small complication came up around this time. The day before my second follow-up for my left eye, I had a floater reappear. It was very different than what I had before. It was always a tiny and circular, sometimes looking like a bullseye target, sometimes two circles, sometimes a black dot. All the ones before were long and skinny or wispy like lace.

However, it wasn’t always there. 

When I talked to Dr Morris about it (from what I remember), he told me that it was because, due to the delicate nature of the surgery, they had to err on the side of caution and sometimes weren’t able to completely clear up the issue. 

Even with my left eye not being completely floater free, I knew I was still very willing to get the surgery done on my right eye.

As I suspected, my amazing experience at Callahan Eye Hospital wasn’t quite as amazing as the first time, as I wasn’t the first patient there this time. It was still great but I did have to wait a little longer than the first time.

The healing was also different. The first time I felt the gritty feeling they mentioned in my left eye. With my right, it didn’t feel gritty; it felt sore. But after a few days it was back to normal.

I had to do the drops like before, which wasn’t fun to try to remember, but wasn’t difficult. I also had the same weight and activity restrictions as before to deal with.

But I didn’t care one bit about these inconveniences because my second surgery was even more successful than the first. Not one even teeny tiny floater has shown up – and as of this writing, it’s over a month since the surgery and not one issue has come up.

The little dot/circle/bullseye in my left eye comes and goes. It goes much more than it comes and it’s not bad to deal with. I have hope that eventually it will settle out of my central vision and/or my brain will eventually block it out. 

But even if it doesn’t get better, I wouldn’t change a thing. Sometimes I look around and I’m just so thankful that I was able to find Dr Morris and have these surgeries. They have made my life so much better… there aren’t enough words to express my gratitude.

Wednesday, July 24, 2024

Trying Something New (AKA Attempting Something Very Old Again)

 Tonight I did something that I haven't done in YEARS - playing a keyboard. Back in the day (when I walked 5 miles in the snow to and from school - uphill both ways) I was pretty good at keyboard. I took piano for about seven years as a child but never really played after my last lesson.

But I was good at complimenting the instuments in the worship teams I played with. I played filler strings, low bass, etc. I also played rhythm acoustic guitar or sometimes filler there too. Kind of like the keyboard, I had my niche and I didn't sway from it. I didn't play an electric guitar; I didn't play lead. 

I wasn't great at it, but I was pretty darn good at those things. Playing with worship teams was part of my identity. In fact, the email address I concocted with the help of a friend was based on my love of guitar: harpofworship. It was based on the fact that a harp is just a more elaborate stringed instrument than a guitar.

Years passed... The churches I went to either died or moved locations far from me. I got cynical when church after church added to my hurt. Becoming a part of a worship team became a part of my past. I gave my beloved white thin-bodied Alverez Yairi and my keyboard to my daughter and put my even more beloved amazing-sounding full-bodied Takamini in its case and set it aside.

When I met my husband and found out he had also been a part of worship teams in his past, it became a dream/goal to hopefully play together on a team. But over the years we have been together, different attempts have failed for various reasons (adding to the earlier mentioned hurt, by the way). 

But a little more than a month ago, we started going to a new church. The band was the style both of us had played with before. Best of all, they didn't have anyone playing percussion and my husband, a drummer who really liked to play percussion, was able to fill a need.

We talked to the worship leader about it and were a little bit surprised when he said this was a possibility. My husband told him he played percussion and I told him I played keyboard and guitar. I was nervous about saying that, since it had been so long, but I thought it would come back. Other times in my life I had put the instruments down and was able to pick them up and play like I hadn't stopped.

The worship leader told us that we could start practicing with the team and maybe in a few months, we might start playing. It was amazing when, to our surprise, after only practicing two weeks, he was asked to start playing during the service.

Meanwhile, I had shared with the worship leader what my real passion was - to sign during worship. All of my years of learning sign off and on had finally come together and signing worship songs is something I feel I might can be successful at.

I was shocked when the worship leader asked me what my passion was to do with the team. He used the word "passion." Just a few days before I had been telling that signing during worship was something I was passionate about. So I was incredibly, incredibly excited when I felt free to share that passion with him.

He didn't seem very enthusiastic at first but as I explained what I was thinking, he seemed to think it could be a good thing. He told me that he needed to talk to the pastor.

So the wait began...

The pastor was out of town the next week for his wedding anniversary. I was really encouraged by something a worship team member told me about signing. Then he was really busy with family obligations when he got home. I was resigned to wait.

This morning my wait was partially over. I texted the worship leader about something else and he mentioned that they had talked. By this point, I was really expecting a "yes." (You know what they say about expectations!)

It wasn't a yes. It wasn't a no. I was a "the jury is still out."

I cried. Yes, I know it wasn't a no, and honestly, a no at the moment doesn't mean a no forever. For one thing, it means that my waiting isn't over (and I hate waiting!)

But the biggest issue is that it may mean that once again my dreams about once again being part of a worship team might not happen.

So while I was crying, I tried to not catastrophize/spiral into that pit. I reminded myself that maybe if the signing thing didn't work out, maybe that would give me a chance to play keyboard and/or guitar again.

Well, I got to the church early tonight so I could practice before the main practice. I felt like a dinosaur. The keyboard is a lot more high-tech than I expected and even though I didn't dare mess with any settings, it was a little intimidating. 

Then I just couldn't seem to figure out what to play. About halfway through the time I had pre-practice, I realized what was wrong - the entire time I played, I used paper chords charts. I wrote like crazy over those things with notes about what I worked out.

I was using my phone for both the chord chart and for the music, which meant that any time I needed to go back to a certain part to practice it over and over, I had to close one screen and open another. I couldn't write on it. I was straining to even see the little print.

It was all I could do to not lose it completely and run crying out of the sanctuary. 

I'm trying to be optimistic about the whole thing - similar to what I said earlier, just because I couldn't get it tonight doesn't mean I never will. Just because when I picked up my guitar I realized I'm too overweight to play it doesn't mean that I'll never be able to (after all, I am losing weight now). Just because "the jury is still out" right now doesn't mean the jury might not come in with a favorable verdict. 

But right now it hurts. I want to just give up. On top of it, I'm watching my husband play with the team. I'm so happy for him - and so jealous, I almost can't stand it. I'm listening to songs about how good God is. At the moment, I know in my heart that He's good but I don't feel like He is. 

To top it off, I can't seem to sign. I keep getting "hand-tied" (a made-up word I use for the signed version of tongue-tied). I feel like I can't get anything right tonight. I just want to go home and cry myself to sleep - and hope that tomorrow is better, either in being able to do this after all or having a better attitude about it. 

Wednesday, July 3, 2024

No Longer Afraid... A Follow-up

As always, I can't ever believe it when I once again get back to this blog, months have passed. I need to get past the need to apologize, but it's a compulsion. 

So, I'm sorry it's been so long. And, like I always say, I'll try harder to post more consistently.

(But both you know and I know that this won't happen.😏)

If you aren't a regular reader of this blog, go back and look up my "No Longer Afraid" posts. There are four parts: part 1, part 2, part 3a and part 3b. You'll need that background to understand what I'm writing here.

Okay... so it's been over a year since I wrote those posts, sharing what happened in the hardest time of my life and admitting/confessing what I did to cause it all. 

I finished the first post of that series with these words: "I'm finally free." I'm still free, but I'm still human. The anxiety/fear still rears its ugly head on a regular basis. There are a lot of issues where I still have walls up. 

But... God... 

Even with all of my failings, mess-ups, and frankly, crap, He hasn't given up on me (even those times I've almost completely given up on myself.)

There are some subjects that I've wanted to write about but haven't. So I'm going to sum up some really amazing stuff that God did in me to get me here. It shouldn't be summed up - there are a lot of really cool details - but I need to get to what happened today, so I'll sum up anyway.

- At K-Love this year, God did a work on my heart. After years and years of having a massive wall and being completely against going to church, I left the weekend wanting to find a church and attending.

- So, I wanted to find a church. But how does one do that outside of recommendations of family or friends? That was a dead end. I use the mighty Google for any other search, so of course I thought about doing a web search. But churches are so personal and websites are so sterile... how would I find one that way?

- I thought I might as well try. What would it hurt? I don't even remember the search parameters I put in, but whatever I used brought up just under a million options. (It's the South, remember?) 

(I just realized that this is NOT summing up.)

- Anyway, I clicked on a website or two then saw one that intrigued me: A2 Church. I looked at their website, and it wasn't that different than others, but something drew me to it. (Yes, yes, I know it was God.) I was even more intrigued and told my husband about it. 

- We skimmed through a video of a recent service and I started getting excited about this possibility. 

- But what's really just short of a miracle is that, when the next Sunday came, even after a really busy weekend where typically I would have easily made an excuse to stay in bed... me, a huge social anxiety sufferer... me, someone who usually avoids the church like the plaque... me a very tired, old, physically and emotionally exhausted human... woke up excited to attend the 9:30 (yes, I said, 9:30!) service.

Fast forward a few weeks to this past Sunday.

For reasons I simply don't have time to go into now (I'm already way past summarizing), for approximately the last twenty years, I have avoided holding babies like the plague. In addition, I've also avoided children because of "the incident." (See the first "No Longer Afraid" post). 

Even though I have led the children's ministry in a couple of churches in younger days, I've kept that information a tight-lipped secret from anyone in the few churches I've attended the past couple of decades - and became even tighter-lipped after "the incident."

Something happened this past Sunday. I saw a tiny baby in the aisle across from where I was sitting - and I actually wanted to hold that adorable infant. I had the thought, "Maybe I should volunteer for the nursery."

But my past was hanging over my head. What if they did a background check and found out what happened? It's not like I hurt anyone, but I lost my teaching license anyway. I was still terrified that I would be found out. It wasn't worth it.

Sometime during the "year of hell" (again, see earlier post), my best friend - who was also a teacher -  told me that she found out that there was a way to get my license back. Because undiagnosed mental health issues were at least some of the precipitating factors of "the incident," I could appeal to the administration using recommendations from mental health professionals I was seeing.

Ironically, for the first time ever, after seeing therapists for decades, my therapist just last week dismissed me. She said I'm doing amazingly well and that I don't need that intensive therapy any more. 

Go back to the Sunday service and seeing the baby. I immediately decided to research what it would really take to get my license back so that this fear would be gone forever. I had a burning desire to do it right then. I couldn't have put down my phone if it was on fire.

I found out what I needed to know - and realized it could still be a fight. I simply don't have the mental and physical capacity or the time and resources to dedicate to this venture right now. I don't want to teach again so it's really a matter of pride more than anything. 

I then decided to give up. I realized it didn't matter. It's not a big deal.

It was at that point that I finally tuned into the message...

... only to have my new pastor look my way and say, "You don't have to hide anymore."

Oh... my... gosh!!! What? Did he really just say that? 

I started bawling and as soon as the service was over, I rushed to talk to him. I was still somewhat blubbering so there was no way I could tell him what happened. I asked if there was a time this week we could meet.

About 3ish hours ago, I shared all this with him. And he didn't judge me! 

It never ceases to amaze me about what God has done - and what He is still doing every day - even to someone as messed up as me.




Sunday, May 19, 2024

Tips for Living in a Tiny Space (NOT a Tiny Home), Part 2 - The Tips

See "Tips for Living in a Tiny Space (NOT a Tiny Home), Part 1 - The Backstory" for the backstory. 

Now... drum roll please... Here are the actual tips.

********************************************************************************
Organization is one of the keys.

I have gotten multiple sizes and shapes of containers through the years. I ramped that up with a lot of  Dollar Tree and Amazon shopping to find specific items needed to make the best use of every available space I have.

Having two incomes didn’t mean I wasn’t going to try to save money every way I could so I buy sodas in bulk when they are on sale. However, I needed places to keep them.

One day I realized I had a little bit of space (about a foot) to the left of the fridge where I kept TV trays. They were rarely used, so I found a shelf that could hold soda 12-packs. I used paper trays on two shelves to put paper plates and bowls and included a basket on the top for chips.

-        It’s imperative to lower expectations of having the perfect aesthetic.

      When there are only inches of areas where you can see the walls between the sheer amount of furniture you have AND you are living on a tight budget, items that typically would have been put in cabinets are in plain sight. The size and functionality of furniture is much more important than whether the pieces are the same style. There isn’t much room for décor. 

``    I have a few flat places where I put our favorite decorative items but mostly use shelves on walls above the shorter pieces of furniture for that. Shelves are some of my best friends.

-         When you have the choice, choose the same or similar colors for areas. The small milk crates on the top of the fridge are white, as is the fridge. The basket on top of the shelf I bought for 12-packs is gray to go with the silver of the shelf.

      The majority of the furniture in here is brown (though different types of woods and shades of brown) except for one end table that’s silver – but it’s not beside any of the wood furniture.

      To this end, contact paper is my friend. When a piece of furniture is a very different color from the surrounding items, sometimes contact paper works to make it blend. Paint would do the same job, but it’s permanent and I never know how all this will work if we move.

-        Think vertical.

This is a common piece of advice from organizational experts. Again, shelves are the hero here. I have shelves in our “pantry,” shelves under the bathroom sinks, shelves in the closets, and many stackable paper trays in the study.

If I can’t go wide, I go high.

Think outside of the box for unusual solutions to tiny living issues.

Like I said earlier, at first food that would typically be put in a pantry or cabinet was in dresser drawers. When that dresser was moved to another room after our wedding, we added one that’s a stackable cabinet (used typically for sweaters) over three large drawers.  

Currently, six drawers of the old nine-drawer “pantry” (dresser) include kitchen supplies, silverware, Ziploc bags, etc. Three are for meds, miscellaneous items like nail polish, and basic office supplies I use a lot when I’m working there.

After we got everything else set up, I realized we needed a coffee table, but couldn’t find one that would fit in the tiny open area in the kitchen/den. 

I finally decided on a bedside table – the kind from hospitals (though this one is nicer). It has a height adjustment, an advantage of converting it into a standing desk. It’s just the right size and, as a bonus, moves around easily so we can use it multiple ways.

I’m the kind of person who wears clothes more than once if they aren’t dirty. It bothered me that I had nowhere to keep those clothes since I wouldn’t put them with the truly clean ones.

Earlier I forgot to mention command hooks are also my friends. I got four clear hooks and put them on my bathroom wall. Now I'm able to keep those clothes off the floor and wear them again.

Though I care for the environment, we use paper plates. Life is hard enough without taking all of our dishes into the kitchen to wash – and then having to either let them dry on the countertop (which also doesn’t have much space) or sorting when using the dishwasher.

However, I can’t stand using plastic cutlery. I had silverware from my old home but needed a solution for cleaning the forks, spoons, and knives.

I decided to use the bathroom sink. It took a lot of searching to find a dishpan that would fit and small drying rack. But eventually, I found what I needed.

There was still the problem of having dried food become one with the silverware before I had time to wash it. (Freelancing = long hours.) 

I bought a few large plastic cups. I fill one half-way with water and add the silverware to soak until I have time to give them a bath.

It’s not the best solution – the cutlery water gets incredibly gross and washing anything in a bathroom sink has issues - but it works.

Over-the-door hooks and shoe holders are two more of my friends.

Some doors have multiple hooks; some have just one. But there isn't a door in my living space that doesn't have at least one hook. Purses, backpacks, laptop bags, and jackets or coats all live on these hooks.

Clear shoe holders on the backs of two doors hold charging cables, short extension cords, our most used tools, and similar items. It's a great way to organize a lot of small items where they can be seen easily. 

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Living in a tiny space isn’t what I would consider enjoyable. It’s barely manageable at times. Number one… I wouldn’t trade having this time with my parents for anything, especially since my dad passed away about six months ago. Number two… I’ve gotten to live out my dream career.

Number three… though it’s been very challenging at times, secretly I love the challenge. It’s can be fun to work hard to find a solution to a problem that no-one else has. It’s completely up to me to figure it out.

And when, months or years later, I notice that one of my solutions is still working, it gives me so much satisfaction. Sometimes when I think about the day I’ll need to move, I hope I’ll still recognize the lessons living this way taught me and continue to appreciate the stigma of living in a tiny space.

Waiting

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