This past weekend, Jerbs was actually off from work, so we rented a car, loaded up the dogs, and headed to Kingman for a few days. And it was lovely.
I spent the weekend hanging out with my family--dying eggs, watching Ghostbusters with Austin (it's his current obsession), letting Max run around (he loves kids and was basically Austin's sidekick all weekend), and just relaxing. Austin was attached to me the whole time I was there, which was awesome; I love that little boy so much. He is just at such a hilarious age that there's never a dull moment and he's so much fun. I babysat him today while my sister worked and had to take him to my mom's since Jenny wasn't off work yet; we were halfway there when I noticed he'd gotten really quiet. I glanced back, expecting him to be asleep, but he was just sitting in his car seat with this horribly sad look on his face. When I asked him what was wrong he started crying and said he was going to miss me and didn't want me to leave. It broke my heart, but at the same time, I'm glad that he misses me when I'm gone, because better that than him forgetting about me.
Anyway, it was nice to see everyone, and nice to drive . . . although I won't lie, it took some getting used to because I hadn't actually driven a car since November.
All in all it was a good weekend. I've gotten anxious about going to Kingman ever since . . . you know, but this time that was at a minimum. I don't know why but I felt very relaxed about the whole thing, including the Corey aspects. There were difficult moments but nothing too bad. Like I said, I don't know why, and I'll probably say more about it later but I'm just too tired right now.
But something about this weekend was just refreshing. As we were leaving I felt renewed. More focused, more determined. Tomorrow is Monday, plus it's the first of the month, and I am determined to make April awesome. I feel more capable than ever as far as my goals, and I'm going to work hard this month. As we were leaving Kingman I felt hopeful, calm, and full of potential.
Of course that faded a little once we got back to Flagstaff. I think I really didn't want to leave Kingman this time around and I just felt sad. There was just something that felt so good about being there and I miss that. It's hard to explain. Plus I think I'm just stressed because normally on Sundays I do things like laundry and clean and get ready for the start of the work week and obviously, that didn't happen this Sunday, so now I'm rushing around trying to get some of it done before I have to go to bed . . . sigh.
Either way, I'm very hopeful about this coming month, and I have a good feeling about things right now.
3.31.2013
3.28.2013
5 Little Pills and Bitter, Bitter Regret
Did you know that I take 5 pills a day?
Four of them are Lithium, 300mg apiece; I take two in the morning when I get to work and two at night before I go to bed. The fifth is Paxil, 10mg, and I take it in the morning with my first Lithium dose. The Lithium pills are a little bigger than a 200mg ibuprofen tablet, and the Paxil is tiny. None of them are hard to swallow. None of them taste bad. None of them make me sick or sleepy or anything like that.
Taking them is easy.
Five little pills. That's all it takes for me to be normal. To be well. To be healthy. To be functional. Just five little pills.
It is amazing to think that's all that was standing between me and mental health. Well, that and a little willpower on my part, but the medicine took the edge off the sickness enough that I was able to find that willpower, if that makes sense. At any rate, I feel like medication has been the foundation of my treatment.
I am glad to know that. I am. I am happy to know that I do need this for treatment, and that it really does work when I do what I'm supposed to. I am happy to know that getting better was possible.
But at the same time knowing that fills me with a bitter, bitter regret, because if I'd done it sooner, things probably would have worked out between Ex-Fiance and me. And I feel so incredibly stupid for not being able to get my shit together then. I look at it now and I think, five little pills to save a relationship with a wonderful man I love (and yes, the present tense is intentional), five little pills for someone to come home to every night and wake up to every morning, for a marriage and a happily ever after. Taking five pills a day seems like an absurdly small sacrifice in comparison to what I gave up. It kills me to know that if I'd just done this from the beginning, if I'd just done something this simple when I first had the opportunity, I might be somewhere completely different now. It just kills me.
There are no words for how badly I want a second chance. No words for how incredibly sorry I am for throwing away what I had. I would give anything for the opportunity to see what love feels like now because there is no doubt in my mind that it would work the way we wanted it to in the beginning.
Four of them are Lithium, 300mg apiece; I take two in the morning when I get to work and two at night before I go to bed. The fifth is Paxil, 10mg, and I take it in the morning with my first Lithium dose. The Lithium pills are a little bigger than a 200mg ibuprofen tablet, and the Paxil is tiny. None of them are hard to swallow. None of them taste bad. None of them make me sick or sleepy or anything like that.
Taking them is easy.
Five little pills. That's all it takes for me to be normal. To be well. To be healthy. To be functional. Just five little pills.
It is amazing to think that's all that was standing between me and mental health. Well, that and a little willpower on my part, but the medicine took the edge off the sickness enough that I was able to find that willpower, if that makes sense. At any rate, I feel like medication has been the foundation of my treatment.
I am glad to know that. I am. I am happy to know that I do need this for treatment, and that it really does work when I do what I'm supposed to. I am happy to know that getting better was possible.
But at the same time knowing that fills me with a bitter, bitter regret, because if I'd done it sooner, things probably would have worked out between Ex-Fiance and me. And I feel so incredibly stupid for not being able to get my shit together then. I look at it now and I think, five little pills to save a relationship with a wonderful man I love (and yes, the present tense is intentional), five little pills for someone to come home to every night and wake up to every morning, for a marriage and a happily ever after. Taking five pills a day seems like an absurdly small sacrifice in comparison to what I gave up. It kills me to know that if I'd just done this from the beginning, if I'd just done something this simple when I first had the opportunity, I might be somewhere completely different now. It just kills me.
There are no words for how badly I want a second chance. No words for how incredibly sorry I am for throwing away what I had. I would give anything for the opportunity to see what love feels like now because there is no doubt in my mind that it would work the way we wanted it to in the beginning.
3.27.2013
I'm Going to Talk About "Dancing With the Stars" Now
So DWTS premiered last Monday. I was pretty stoked about it. Because I need more things in my life that make me sound like an old woman, right?
But anyway.
There was no elimination after the first round, so the first elimination was last night. And holy cow was I depressed when there ended up not actually being an elimination when Dorothy Hamill announced she was withdrawing from the competition due to an injury. Mostly I'm disappointed because she was paired with Tristan MacManus who is just about the sexiest thing I've ever seen with an awesome Irish accent, and I wanted him to stay around longer this season. I was excited because he got an ice skater, and they tend to do well in the competition, but no. He was eliminated first last season too . . . lame. Not gonna lie, this makes me a teeny bit less invested in the rest of the season but oh well.
Other than that it's just the same . . . Derek and Mark have ringers, Tony's basically screwed (I think the producers were like oh, you finally won a season? well fuck you), the judges are still 66.3% nutjob, and so on. But still fun to watch.
Here are my predictions for the rest of the competition. I was way wrong with most of my predictions last season so we'll see how I do this time around. (Sigh . . . I wish I had a life). I'm not even counting week one since it was what it was.
Week 1: Lisa & Gleb
Week 2: Victor & Lindsey
Week 3: D.L. & Cheryl
Week 4: Wynona & Tony
Week 5: Ingo & Kym
Week 6: Sean & Peta
Week 7: Andy & Sharna
Week 8: Jacoby & Karina
Week 9: Aly & Mark
Week 10: Kellie & Derek
WIN: Zendaya & Val
I know the first two are both new pros, but that seems to be how it generally goes when there are newbies. They just don't have very big fan bases, and at this point in the show, I think a lot of people vote for their fave pros as well as their fave celebrities. I don't know how big these two celebrities' fan bases are though, so that might be enough to pull them through. And Sharna's a new pro as well but she's been a troupe member for awhile so she's a little familiar to the audience.
D.L. and Cheryl I think could go farther, because she's a long standing favorite pro dancer with a good sized fan base.
I kept switching Ingo/Sean/Andy around those three spots. I think those three couples will be the kind of middle of the pack to go but it could be in any order, I think.
Yes, I'm predicting a Chmerkovsky for the win. Maybe that's just wishful thinking on my part but I definitely think Val has a shot this season. He really endeared himself to the audience last season (seriously, him and Kelly, so freaking cute together), plus he's just generally more likeable than his brother. And even though Zendaya's very young and probably doesn't have a huge fan base--especially among the DWTS audience demographic--something about her is really endearing, and she's a good dancer. I think she'll grow on voters as the season progresses.
Anyway. I promise I do think about real things that matter during the day too, like work and stuff. But DWTS is most definitely my guilty pleasure and someday, I'll look back at this and be amused at myself.
But anyway.
There was no elimination after the first round, so the first elimination was last night. And holy cow was I depressed when there ended up not actually being an elimination when Dorothy Hamill announced she was withdrawing from the competition due to an injury. Mostly I'm disappointed because she was paired with Tristan MacManus who is just about the sexiest thing I've ever seen with an awesome Irish accent, and I wanted him to stay around longer this season. I was excited because he got an ice skater, and they tend to do well in the competition, but no. He was eliminated first last season too . . . lame. Not gonna lie, this makes me a teeny bit less invested in the rest of the season but oh well.
Other than that it's just the same . . . Derek and Mark have ringers, Tony's basically screwed (I think the producers were like oh, you finally won a season? well fuck you), the judges are still 66.3% nutjob, and so on. But still fun to watch.
Here are my predictions for the rest of the competition. I was way wrong with most of my predictions last season so we'll see how I do this time around. (Sigh . . . I wish I had a life). I'm not even counting week one since it was what it was.
Week 1: Lisa & Gleb
Week 2: Victor & Lindsey
Week 3: D.L. & Cheryl
Week 4: Wynona & Tony
Week 5: Ingo & Kym
Week 6: Sean & Peta
Week 7: Andy & Sharna
Week 8: Jacoby & Karina
Week 9: Aly & Mark
Week 10: Kellie & Derek
WIN: Zendaya & Val
I know the first two are both new pros, but that seems to be how it generally goes when there are newbies. They just don't have very big fan bases, and at this point in the show, I think a lot of people vote for their fave pros as well as their fave celebrities. I don't know how big these two celebrities' fan bases are though, so that might be enough to pull them through. And Sharna's a new pro as well but she's been a troupe member for awhile so she's a little familiar to the audience.
D.L. and Cheryl I think could go farther, because she's a long standing favorite pro dancer with a good sized fan base.
I kept switching Ingo/Sean/Andy around those three spots. I think those three couples will be the kind of middle of the pack to go but it could be in any order, I think.
Yes, I'm predicting a Chmerkovsky for the win. Maybe that's just wishful thinking on my part but I definitely think Val has a shot this season. He really endeared himself to the audience last season (seriously, him and Kelly, so freaking cute together), plus he's just generally more likeable than his brother. And even though Zendaya's very young and probably doesn't have a huge fan base--especially among the DWTS audience demographic--something about her is really endearing, and she's a good dancer. I think she'll grow on voters as the season progresses.
Anyway. I promise I do think about real things that matter during the day too, like work and stuff. But DWTS is most definitely my guilty pleasure and someday, I'll look back at this and be amused at myself.
3.24.2013
Some Sundays
I think of him.
I haven't cried about the break up in months but for some reason, today, I couldn't help it and I curled up in my bed and just sobbed.
I haven't cried about the break up in months but for some reason, today, I couldn't help it and I curled up in my bed and just sobbed.
3.23.2013
The Other Side
Did you know that, in the thick of the breakup last May, I threatened to stop all forms of treatment in response to getting dumped? I very clearly remember saying to Corey, "I can't do this without you. Getting better isn't worth it if you're not waiting for me on the other side."
I am ashamed to admit how absolutely I meant that at the time. At that point, I honestly, 100% believed what I was saying, believed that getting better was a waste of time without having something tangible to do it for. I didn't want to get better for a life I wasn't happy in, if that makes sense, and that was what it felt like: getting better without him was getting better just to go back to something I already disliked.
I'm glad to be able to say now that I was wrong.
Because now, I am on the other side. And I got to this place without him waiting here, without him doing a thing to help me get here, and it's just as beautiful for it.
Do you know who was waiting for me? I was. Me. Myself. The real me. The person I'm supposed to be. The healthy version of myself. (And yes, I know how cheesy that is).
This journey has been worth it. As much as I regret how badly I screwed things up with Corey (I'm going to post about that soon) and as much as I do wish he'd been here to share it with me (because having to do it alone and wanting to do it alone are different things), I have to say that looking back, I really don't know that I could have attained this level of mental health with him in my life. Which is not to say he was keeping me sick, but more that I really did need to be able to completely focus on myself.
I think deep down I always knew I'd have to do it on my own. I think I knew that even before Corey came around. Self reliance has been the most significant thing I've gained from this, and I am grateful for that.
And I have to say that now that I'm here, on the other side, I have no intention of ever going back.
I am ashamed to admit how absolutely I meant that at the time. At that point, I honestly, 100% believed what I was saying, believed that getting better was a waste of time without having something tangible to do it for. I didn't want to get better for a life I wasn't happy in, if that makes sense, and that was what it felt like: getting better without him was getting better just to go back to something I already disliked.
I'm glad to be able to say now that I was wrong.
Because now, I am on the other side. And I got to this place without him waiting here, without him doing a thing to help me get here, and it's just as beautiful for it.
Do you know who was waiting for me? I was. Me. Myself. The real me. The person I'm supposed to be. The healthy version of myself. (And yes, I know how cheesy that is).
This journey has been worth it. As much as I regret how badly I screwed things up with Corey (I'm going to post about that soon) and as much as I do wish he'd been here to share it with me (because having to do it alone and wanting to do it alone are different things), I have to say that looking back, I really don't know that I could have attained this level of mental health with him in my life. Which is not to say he was keeping me sick, but more that I really did need to be able to completely focus on myself.
I think deep down I always knew I'd have to do it on my own. I think I knew that even before Corey came around. Self reliance has been the most significant thing I've gained from this, and I am grateful for that.
And I have to say that now that I'm here, on the other side, I have no intention of ever going back.
3.21.2013
Broken Is Beautiful
Did you know that in Japan when a piece of pottery or something similar cracks, it's repaired with gold lacquer? The result is shoots of gold in the original piece, and while you can still see the cracks, they make what was originally there even more beautiful. I am so in love with this concept I can't even tell you. Even though it's an aesthetic concept, I feel like it also speaks to the idea of honoring the cracks, the broken parts, as part of the whole. I'm trying to do that now: I have a mental illness and that sucks, but it's part of who I am. And I'm close to whole now but I wouldn't be who I am without that mental illness, and I'll never deny its part in my past. Ever.
I've decided on my next tattoo. I'm going to get the word "lost" in Hindi on my left shoulder blade, and the word "found" in Hindi on my right shoulder blade. I've wanted to get a pair of tattoos on my shoulder blades that go together for a long time and this idea just came to me a week or so ago. Initially I was going to do it with Kanji symbols, so it would kind of match what I already have, but I really love how the words in Hindi look, so I'm going to go with that. I'm really looking forward to these tattoos because there's a lot of meaning in them for me. To me they represent this journey I've been on: I was lost and distraught and struggling, and now I'm found and doing well. I'm getting both words because both concepts are equally important to the journey.
My right upper leg is covered with self harm scars. Some of them are old and faded, some of them are newer and bright, and I see them whenever I go to the bathroom or shower or change. I used to hate them and feel like I should cover them up, but now when I see them, I feel like they're a reminder of how dark things used to be and how far I've come. In a weird way I've come to love that old, broken me, and I like having a reminder of it. That probably doesn't make a lot of sense but . . . I don't know. Maybe it's because I struggled with issues of identity and self for so long; in a way it's nice to know that that me was still real, even if that part of me is in the past now.
Benji was broken when I got him and even though it drove me crazy sometimes I loved him anyway. When I was feeding him soft dog food by hand just to get him to eat and taking him on the longest walks ever so he'd go to the bathroom or scrubbing dog poop out of my carpet because he had nervous accidents, I loved him. And the thought of getting rid of Benji never once crossed my mind, because it just wasn't an option. It was worth it because in return I got lots of laughs and entertainment, a protectiveness you wouldn't think was possible in something that weighs like 4 pounds, an intense loyalty that really is what they mean when they call dogs man's best friend, and a tiny little thing who did a happy little dance whenever I came home and cuddled up to me every night in bed. Max is even more broken than Benji was but I have absolute faith that if I give him love and time he'll be an awesome companion, so just like with Benji, giving up on him is not an option. If you love a broken something or someone enough to stick it out, it will always be worth it in the end. I love finally being in a place where I believe that.
Anyway. Just some of what's been on my mind lately. Lots more to come, I think.
I've decided on my next tattoo. I'm going to get the word "lost" in Hindi on my left shoulder blade, and the word "found" in Hindi on my right shoulder blade. I've wanted to get a pair of tattoos on my shoulder blades that go together for a long time and this idea just came to me a week or so ago. Initially I was going to do it with Kanji symbols, so it would kind of match what I already have, but I really love how the words in Hindi look, so I'm going to go with that. I'm really looking forward to these tattoos because there's a lot of meaning in them for me. To me they represent this journey I've been on: I was lost and distraught and struggling, and now I'm found and doing well. I'm getting both words because both concepts are equally important to the journey.
My right upper leg is covered with self harm scars. Some of them are old and faded, some of them are newer and bright, and I see them whenever I go to the bathroom or shower or change. I used to hate them and feel like I should cover them up, but now when I see them, I feel like they're a reminder of how dark things used to be and how far I've come. In a weird way I've come to love that old, broken me, and I like having a reminder of it. That probably doesn't make a lot of sense but . . . I don't know. Maybe it's because I struggled with issues of identity and self for so long; in a way it's nice to know that that me was still real, even if that part of me is in the past now.
Benji was broken when I got him and even though it drove me crazy sometimes I loved him anyway. When I was feeding him soft dog food by hand just to get him to eat and taking him on the longest walks ever so he'd go to the bathroom or scrubbing dog poop out of my carpet because he had nervous accidents, I loved him. And the thought of getting rid of Benji never once crossed my mind, because it just wasn't an option. It was worth it because in return I got lots of laughs and entertainment, a protectiveness you wouldn't think was possible in something that weighs like 4 pounds, an intense loyalty that really is what they mean when they call dogs man's best friend, and a tiny little thing who did a happy little dance whenever I came home and cuddled up to me every night in bed. Max is even more broken than Benji was but I have absolute faith that if I give him love and time he'll be an awesome companion, so just like with Benji, giving up on him is not an option. If you love a broken something or someone enough to stick it out, it will always be worth it in the end. I love finally being in a place where I believe that.
Anyway. Just some of what's been on my mind lately. Lots more to come, I think.
3.20.2013
Work Update or Why I Love My Job
I'm mostly writing about this because I want to remember it.
This is the first time since my very first job (when I was 16) that I actually love my job. I really do. Even though I'm still not a fan of waking up so early in the morning, I don't dread going to work like I used to. Some days I'm not thrilled to go to work but it's a gigantic step up from where I've been in the past. And even on the days when I'm not particularly excited for work, I don't have that sense of literally being unable to go in or searching desperately for an excuse to stay home.
My work is a little tedious some days, and a little dull, but something about it makes me happy. I'm at a point where I feel like I know what I'm doing in most cases, and there's something kind of oddly satisfying about figuring out what's wrong with a denied claim and knowing how to re-bill it. It's even more satisfying when the claims I correct get paid. In the past month(ish), I've gotten my Medicare collections list down to 18 items . . . it started at 54. I'm pretty impressed with myself, and my boss mentioned the other day to all of us that the clinic's A/R is down, and I know for a fact that I contributed to that. It feels good. This week one of our billers, our practice manager, and our billing office manager are all out (two on vacation, one for a family emergency), which leaves just me and two other billers running the office. It's stressful but at the same time, I'm enjoying the opportunity to kind of show that I can take on a heavier workload when I need to.
Far and away my favorite thing about MHC is my co-workers. There is a tremendous sense of community and of family there and it really kind of amazes me. I've been there just a little bit over 2 months now and I already feel like I'm a part of that family. I love it. Right now one of my co-workers is dealing with some family drama and she has essentially had to adopt her 3 week old niece on very short notice. This past Friday we threw her a surprise baby shower, and it was so sweet. She completely had no clue (how we all managed to keep it a secret I don't know, but we did and I'm impressed) and it was obvious how touched she was. And I just loved that everyone was involved with it, from our CEO (who wrote her a check and bitched about not having enough space to sign in the card) to our newest front desk person (who started last Tuesday), who came to the shower and congratulated my co-worker.
I remember feeling like everyone at Hastings hated me, and it sucked. But at MHC I actually feel well liked. Everyone calls me Jess, our CEO has his own special nickname for me (Green), and I've had a lot of very personal conversations with my co-workers. I like that a lot. I like that there's a good balance of being friends and being co-workers: I can listen to them bitch about whatever they need to bitch about but still ask them questions about claims and stuff like that, and I respect them in both instances.
I feel like this job has done so much for me. It's made me financially stable, which has been a huge weight off my shoulders and off Jerbs' shoulders. It's made me feel more confident, more capable, and more useful. It's helped me to regularize my schedule, particularly where sleep is concerned, which has been good for my mental health. It's given me a gym membership that I'm actively using. It's given me friends and a few good connections within the community. It's teaching me a skill that I'll be able to use wherever I go in the future and that makes me really, really happy. And if it weren't for this job I wouldn't have gotten Max . . . and I love Max. (Even Benji seems to not mind Max, which is amazing).
I think this is where I'm supposed to be right now. I really do. I'm so grateful to have found MHC when I did, and I'm very glad that they liked me enough to hire me even though I didn't have billing experience. I never realized how big a difference having a job I liked would make in my life, but now that I have, I hope I never have to go back!
This is the first time since my very first job (when I was 16) that I actually love my job. I really do. Even though I'm still not a fan of waking up so early in the morning, I don't dread going to work like I used to. Some days I'm not thrilled to go to work but it's a gigantic step up from where I've been in the past. And even on the days when I'm not particularly excited for work, I don't have that sense of literally being unable to go in or searching desperately for an excuse to stay home.
My work is a little tedious some days, and a little dull, but something about it makes me happy. I'm at a point where I feel like I know what I'm doing in most cases, and there's something kind of oddly satisfying about figuring out what's wrong with a denied claim and knowing how to re-bill it. It's even more satisfying when the claims I correct get paid. In the past month(ish), I've gotten my Medicare collections list down to 18 items . . . it started at 54. I'm pretty impressed with myself, and my boss mentioned the other day to all of us that the clinic's A/R is down, and I know for a fact that I contributed to that. It feels good. This week one of our billers, our practice manager, and our billing office manager are all out (two on vacation, one for a family emergency), which leaves just me and two other billers running the office. It's stressful but at the same time, I'm enjoying the opportunity to kind of show that I can take on a heavier workload when I need to.
Far and away my favorite thing about MHC is my co-workers. There is a tremendous sense of community and of family there and it really kind of amazes me. I've been there just a little bit over 2 months now and I already feel like I'm a part of that family. I love it. Right now one of my co-workers is dealing with some family drama and she has essentially had to adopt her 3 week old niece on very short notice. This past Friday we threw her a surprise baby shower, and it was so sweet. She completely had no clue (how we all managed to keep it a secret I don't know, but we did and I'm impressed) and it was obvious how touched she was. And I just loved that everyone was involved with it, from our CEO (who wrote her a check and bitched about not having enough space to sign in the card) to our newest front desk person (who started last Tuesday), who came to the shower and congratulated my co-worker.
I remember feeling like everyone at Hastings hated me, and it sucked. But at MHC I actually feel well liked. Everyone calls me Jess, our CEO has his own special nickname for me (Green), and I've had a lot of very personal conversations with my co-workers. I like that a lot. I like that there's a good balance of being friends and being co-workers: I can listen to them bitch about whatever they need to bitch about but still ask them questions about claims and stuff like that, and I respect them in both instances.
I feel like this job has done so much for me. It's made me financially stable, which has been a huge weight off my shoulders and off Jerbs' shoulders. It's made me feel more confident, more capable, and more useful. It's helped me to regularize my schedule, particularly where sleep is concerned, which has been good for my mental health. It's given me a gym membership that I'm actively using. It's given me friends and a few good connections within the community. It's teaching me a skill that I'll be able to use wherever I go in the future and that makes me really, really happy. And if it weren't for this job I wouldn't have gotten Max . . . and I love Max. (Even Benji seems to not mind Max, which is amazing).
I think this is where I'm supposed to be right now. I really do. I'm so grateful to have found MHC when I did, and I'm very glad that they liked me enough to hire me even though I didn't have billing experience. I never realized how big a difference having a job I liked would make in my life, but now that I have, I hope I never have to go back!
3.16.2013
Introducing Max
I'd like to introduce Max. He's my new baby.
I know, kind of out of the blue, right?
This whole thing started about a week and a half ago at work. It was a Tuesday, and one of my co-workers was talking about how she'd rescued a dog over the weekend. Basically, she had taken her kids down to Phoenix to visit their dad, and they'd gone to visit some friend/distant relative at their house. In the backyard was Max and these two big pitbulls who'd obviously been trained to be mean pits, and they were picking on Max. At one point my co-worker was in the house and heard a dog yelping in pain; she went outside and one of the pits had Max in his mouth, holding him by the hips. He dropped Max when he saw her but then picked him up again, this time by the neck/head. My co-worker and her friend wrestled him away from the pit, and she could tell when she touched him that he'd been neglected (ribs poking out, etc), so she basically dognapped him. She said she couldn't leave him because she knew if she did he'd end up dead.
Well, the thing is, she's only allowed to have cats ate her place; she lives in rent controlled housing and has 4 kids so getting evicted//moving isn't really an option. None of the no-kill shelters in town would take him (they only rescue from shelters now) and she didn't want to give him to a kill shelter because he's so skittish/scared, he'd never get adopted and would end up put down.
I asked Jerbs and initially I said we'd foster him, just keep him until he was ready for a new home. Because I can't say no to rescues after Benji, and their stories were so similar . . . yeah. The next day we took our lunches at the same time and I went home with her to meet Max. Well, I fell in love. He is so cute, and the way he acted reminded me SO much of Benji when I first had him. At that point I pretty much knew I wasn't going to be his foster mom, I was going to be his forever mom.
He went to the vet and got neutered and his first round of shots this past Monday, and then spent the rest of the week recovering at my co-workers house. A couple hours ago her and all the kids came by to drop him and his stuff off, and he's officially mine! It was hard for them to let him go, though, which sucks but also shows how good of people they are . . . all of them have big hearts and I know that they'd have given Max a fantastic home if they could have. (And can I just tell you that these 4 kids are amazing? I was so happy to meet them, and I'm looking forward to spending time with them so they can see Max). And I told the kids how I ended up with Benji and explained that he came from the same background as Max, and that seemed to put them at ease.
I'm definitely going to keep in touch; I promised them I'd text them pictures and stuff and I know that this summer we'll probably all take Max to the park together and stuff like that. Like I said, this family is awesome, and I have no problem sharing Max with them.
It's definitely odd to have him home. I didn't even know I wanted another dog--like it wasn't something I was even remotely thinking about--but I'm so excited to have Max! I remember how cool it was to kind of watch Benji come out of his shell and lose that fear and abused attitude, and I'm happy I get to watch that again. I really do believe that rescuing an animal is the only way to get a pet, because the work you put in is rewarded with a really unbelievable loyalty. I am really looking forward to watching Max adjust to his new house and become a part of my little family.
 |
| Full name: Maximillion Giffin . . . still working on a middle name! |
I know, kind of out of the blue, right?
This whole thing started about a week and a half ago at work. It was a Tuesday, and one of my co-workers was talking about how she'd rescued a dog over the weekend. Basically, she had taken her kids down to Phoenix to visit their dad, and they'd gone to visit some friend/distant relative at their house. In the backyard was Max and these two big pitbulls who'd obviously been trained to be mean pits, and they were picking on Max. At one point my co-worker was in the house and heard a dog yelping in pain; she went outside and one of the pits had Max in his mouth, holding him by the hips. He dropped Max when he saw her but then picked him up again, this time by the neck/head. My co-worker and her friend wrestled him away from the pit, and she could tell when she touched him that he'd been neglected (ribs poking out, etc), so she basically dognapped him. She said she couldn't leave him because she knew if she did he'd end up dead.
Well, the thing is, she's only allowed to have cats ate her place; she lives in rent controlled housing and has 4 kids so getting evicted//moving isn't really an option. None of the no-kill shelters in town would take him (they only rescue from shelters now) and she didn't want to give him to a kill shelter because he's so skittish/scared, he'd never get adopted and would end up put down.
I asked Jerbs and initially I said we'd foster him, just keep him until he was ready for a new home. Because I can't say no to rescues after Benji, and their stories were so similar . . . yeah. The next day we took our lunches at the same time and I went home with her to meet Max. Well, I fell in love. He is so cute, and the way he acted reminded me SO much of Benji when I first had him. At that point I pretty much knew I wasn't going to be his foster mom, I was going to be his forever mom.
He went to the vet and got neutered and his first round of shots this past Monday, and then spent the rest of the week recovering at my co-workers house. A couple hours ago her and all the kids came by to drop him and his stuff off, and he's officially mine! It was hard for them to let him go, though, which sucks but also shows how good of people they are . . . all of them have big hearts and I know that they'd have given Max a fantastic home if they could have. (And can I just tell you that these 4 kids are amazing? I was so happy to meet them, and I'm looking forward to spending time with them so they can see Max). And I told the kids how I ended up with Benji and explained that he came from the same background as Max, and that seemed to put them at ease.
I'm definitely going to keep in touch; I promised them I'd text them pictures and stuff and I know that this summer we'll probably all take Max to the park together and stuff like that. Like I said, this family is awesome, and I have no problem sharing Max with them.
It's definitely odd to have him home. I didn't even know I wanted another dog--like it wasn't something I was even remotely thinking about--but I'm so excited to have Max! I remember how cool it was to kind of watch Benji come out of his shell and lose that fear and abused attitude, and I'm happy I get to watch that again. I really do believe that rescuing an animal is the only way to get a pet, because the work you put in is rewarded with a really unbelievable loyalty. I am really looking forward to watching Max adjust to his new house and become a part of my little family.
3.13.2013
Out of Sorts
I've felt out of sorts the past few days. I'm not really sure why and I'm not really sure how to describe it but it kind of sucks.
I feel anxious. Antsy. At times almost like I want to crawl out of my skin. Shades of how I felt when I was still really sick. Kind of uneasy, like I'm not fully engaged. Impatient, like time somehow isn't moving fast enough. I hate it.
I feel twitchy and the pressure in my head has gotten worse. It makes me miserable. MISERABLE.
I feel useless and worthless (this comes and goes). Like a loser. Like I just kind of suck at everything. Like I've not got a whole lot going for me (which is stupid because I know I do). Like I'm treading water and not getting ahead despite having a good job and whatever.
I feel fat. And ugly. Like I'm getting bigger instead of smaller. And I know I need to do better on my diet (seriously, the Dr. Pepper needs to go) but I get so frustrated, because with all this going on I feel like even if I completely cut out soda and kept busting my ass at the gym I'd get nowhere. It's very very aggravating.
And the thing is that for me frustration can still escalate pretty quickly into rage. On Monday at the gym, a lot of things went wrong (had my headphones with me but not my iPod, put my locker code in wrong and got locked out of it before my workout and my water was in there; spent 10 minutes trying to figure out what I did wrong since the only staff members on duty were male and couldn't come in the women's locker room unless it was empty, which it wasn't) and I felt a surge of that old rage run through me. I hated it. I haven't felt that in a long time (the last time I remember being rageful was September) and it scared me. I don't like that feeling.
I really don't know what the hell all this is from because before . . . like Monday, maybe Sunday, I was totally fine. Then all of a sudden . . .
It's frustrating. And on top of this my mom's been in the ER twice this week (today and yesterday) and she's fine (getting better with antibiotics and steroids) but I'm still worried about her. And I'm pissed that I'm not in Kingman to be there for her and you can imagine the whole mental can of worms that opened.
Maybe my period's going to start early this month, because this almost feels like the start of a cycle. So we'll see. I also think it may be related to the change in the weather recently, because I'm very sensitive to weather changes, particularly from winter to spring/summer. And we got like 8 or 10 inches of snow this past weekend, and since Monday the temps have been in the 60's.
Whatever the reason I hope this passes soon, because feeling like this again--even though it's not nearly at the same level it used to be--is even worse now that I know what it feels like to be happy.
I feel anxious. Antsy. At times almost like I want to crawl out of my skin. Shades of how I felt when I was still really sick. Kind of uneasy, like I'm not fully engaged. Impatient, like time somehow isn't moving fast enough. I hate it.
I feel twitchy and the pressure in my head has gotten worse. It makes me miserable. MISERABLE.
I feel useless and worthless (this comes and goes). Like a loser. Like I just kind of suck at everything. Like I've not got a whole lot going for me (which is stupid because I know I do). Like I'm treading water and not getting ahead despite having a good job and whatever.
I feel fat. And ugly. Like I'm getting bigger instead of smaller. And I know I need to do better on my diet (seriously, the Dr. Pepper needs to go) but I get so frustrated, because with all this going on I feel like even if I completely cut out soda and kept busting my ass at the gym I'd get nowhere. It's very very aggravating.
And the thing is that for me frustration can still escalate pretty quickly into rage. On Monday at the gym, a lot of things went wrong (had my headphones with me but not my iPod, put my locker code in wrong and got locked out of it before my workout and my water was in there; spent 10 minutes trying to figure out what I did wrong since the only staff members on duty were male and couldn't come in the women's locker room unless it was empty, which it wasn't) and I felt a surge of that old rage run through me. I hated it. I haven't felt that in a long time (the last time I remember being rageful was September) and it scared me. I don't like that feeling.
I really don't know what the hell all this is from because before . . . like Monday, maybe Sunday, I was totally fine. Then all of a sudden . . .
It's frustrating. And on top of this my mom's been in the ER twice this week (today and yesterday) and she's fine (getting better with antibiotics and steroids) but I'm still worried about her. And I'm pissed that I'm not in Kingman to be there for her and you can imagine the whole mental can of worms that opened.
Maybe my period's going to start early this month, because this almost feels like the start of a cycle. So we'll see. I also think it may be related to the change in the weather recently, because I'm very sensitive to weather changes, particularly from winter to spring/summer. And we got like 8 or 10 inches of snow this past weekend, and since Monday the temps have been in the 60's.
Whatever the reason I hope this passes soon, because feeling like this again--even though it's not nearly at the same level it used to be--is even worse now that I know what it feels like to be happy.
3.08.2013
Payday: Goals
I got paid today. Which is exciting, but I feel like I need to do some responsible adult stuff with my money now.
My money habits have been a little out of control lately and I feel like I've been over spending. Granted, a good chunk of my money has gone towards things I legitimately needed, like new clothes, a bed, groceries, and giving Jerbs money for rent. Those are all good things.
My problem is spending small amounts without paying attention, if that makes sense. Like when I wander into New Frontiers everyday while I wait for the bus . . . I really just do it because standing outside for 15 minutes doing nothing seems lame, but I'll almost always end up buying some kind of treat or snack. Always something small, between like 3 and 7 dollars, and it's such a small amount that I don't think it's a big deal. But those little amounts add up really quickly and it's not pretty.
So my goal with this paycheck is to curb that sort of mindless spending and focus on only buying what I need or genuinely want. I also need to write out a budget so I know what I have to spend where.
I feel like my first two paychecks were for sort of catching up on things I needed, and now it's time to get serious about saving money and improving my credit.
Yay for being an adult.
My money habits have been a little out of control lately and I feel like I've been over spending. Granted, a good chunk of my money has gone towards things I legitimately needed, like new clothes, a bed, groceries, and giving Jerbs money for rent. Those are all good things.
My problem is spending small amounts without paying attention, if that makes sense. Like when I wander into New Frontiers everyday while I wait for the bus . . . I really just do it because standing outside for 15 minutes doing nothing seems lame, but I'll almost always end up buying some kind of treat or snack. Always something small, between like 3 and 7 dollars, and it's such a small amount that I don't think it's a big deal. But those little amounts add up really quickly and it's not pretty.
So my goal with this paycheck is to curb that sort of mindless spending and focus on only buying what I need or genuinely want. I also need to write out a budget so I know what I have to spend where.
I feel like my first two paychecks were for sort of catching up on things I needed, and now it's time to get serious about saving money and improving my credit.
Yay for being an adult.
3.05.2013
A Reminder
Today I woke up at 6:30 AM, showered/blow dried/moisturized/got dressed/etc, and left the apartment at 7:10(ish).
I went to work. During my lunch hour I went to the gym and did a half an hour of cardio (elliptical today). I went back to work and finished out my day there. Then I went back to the gym and took an hour long yoga class, then did another half hour on the elliptical.
Then I spent an hour on the bus to come home (super lame, I know), and got home at about 8:35 PM. Which basically means that I had a 13 hour day.
And y'know what? I freaking loved it. It was a great day, both work wise and fitness wise and just mental health wise.
During the bus ride home I got to thinking (because what else is there to do on that long a bus ride?) and it occurred to me that 3 years ago--or even a year and a half ago--the mere thought of a day like today would have paralyzed me with anxiety and fear and dread. I probably would have found a way to get out of it and shut myself in the house all day, or would have suffered through it and completely broken down.
But not today. Today I was freaking awesome, and I am so damn proud of that.
It was a great reminder of how far I've come and how much better I've gotten.
I love it. And I'm happy. And I'm going to do this every Tuesday for at least the next few weeks, and I absolutely don't doubt that I can.
I went to work. During my lunch hour I went to the gym and did a half an hour of cardio (elliptical today). I went back to work and finished out my day there. Then I went back to the gym and took an hour long yoga class, then did another half hour on the elliptical.
Then I spent an hour on the bus to come home (super lame, I know), and got home at about 8:35 PM. Which basically means that I had a 13 hour day.
And y'know what? I freaking loved it. It was a great day, both work wise and fitness wise and just mental health wise.
During the bus ride home I got to thinking (because what else is there to do on that long a bus ride?) and it occurred to me that 3 years ago--or even a year and a half ago--the mere thought of a day like today would have paralyzed me with anxiety and fear and dread. I probably would have found a way to get out of it and shut myself in the house all day, or would have suffered through it and completely broken down.
But not today. Today I was freaking awesome, and I am so damn proud of that.
It was a great reminder of how far I've come and how much better I've gotten.
I love it. And I'm happy. And I'm going to do this every Tuesday for at least the next few weeks, and I absolutely don't doubt that I can.
3.01.2013
Weigh In # 3 (2013)
Let's just say that February was not my best month.
This morning the scale said 177.6, which is about a pound and a half higher than my weight a month ago. Disappointing for sure, but also not altogether surprising. And I know that it could be water weight or something random like that, too, so while I'm not thrilled, I'm also not terribly upset. Plus I took my measurements and they were all basically the same as a month ago; two were lower by a bit and the rest were within a half inch of what they were last time.
February started out really good. Remember how my goal was to do something physical everyday? For the first two and a half weeks, I did just that. None of it was big cardio or anything, I just did weights and abs and jumping jacks and burpees at home. I also did really well food wise during that time, which was awesome.
And then, I don't know what happened, but around the middle of the month, I just kind of stopped. I never felt like working out and I wanted to eat horrible horrible things . . . and I did. I think it was a combo of stress at work and my period. Work definitely did get more stressful in February because in the middle of the month we officially rearranged the billing department to include me, so I went from shadowing my co-workers to actually having my own real responsibilities. Now I have real stuff to do on my own and I'm trusted with a lot of stuff . . . which is exciting, don't get me wrong, and I love that after only a month they thought I was doing well enough to give me my own work, but it's also really stressful. I'm feeling better about it now and I'm doing well, but I think it kind of screwed with me a little. Altogether I ate fast food 14 times, which is exactly half the month. I know that sounds like a lot but it's kind of an accomplishment for me, and I'm proud.
The good news is that I finally did join the gym (Summit Fitness), so I can work out now after work. I plan to do cardio 4 days a week, at least, and a yoga class once a week. I went after work today for the second time and it was difficult, but awesome. I love how I feel after I work out but at the same time, slacking has definitely had an effect on me, and my body's not used to it.
But still, I'm looking forward to March and I feel confident and energized about it. I'm determined to make it a good month.
My goals are to do something physical every single day; I'll probably go to the gym 4 times a week and do smaller workouts at home when I don't make it to the gym; fast food no more than 10 times; work harder on cutting out soda (I am still SO bad about Dr. Pepper); and overall lose 3 pounds. Fingers crossed!
This morning the scale said 177.6, which is about a pound and a half higher than my weight a month ago. Disappointing for sure, but also not altogether surprising. And I know that it could be water weight or something random like that, too, so while I'm not thrilled, I'm also not terribly upset. Plus I took my measurements and they were all basically the same as a month ago; two were lower by a bit and the rest were within a half inch of what they were last time.
February started out really good. Remember how my goal was to do something physical everyday? For the first two and a half weeks, I did just that. None of it was big cardio or anything, I just did weights and abs and jumping jacks and burpees at home. I also did really well food wise during that time, which was awesome.
And then, I don't know what happened, but around the middle of the month, I just kind of stopped. I never felt like working out and I wanted to eat horrible horrible things . . . and I did. I think it was a combo of stress at work and my period. Work definitely did get more stressful in February because in the middle of the month we officially rearranged the billing department to include me, so I went from shadowing my co-workers to actually having my own real responsibilities. Now I have real stuff to do on my own and I'm trusted with a lot of stuff . . . which is exciting, don't get me wrong, and I love that after only a month they thought I was doing well enough to give me my own work, but it's also really stressful. I'm feeling better about it now and I'm doing well, but I think it kind of screwed with me a little. Altogether I ate fast food 14 times, which is exactly half the month. I know that sounds like a lot but it's kind of an accomplishment for me, and I'm proud.
The good news is that I finally did join the gym (Summit Fitness), so I can work out now after work. I plan to do cardio 4 days a week, at least, and a yoga class once a week. I went after work today for the second time and it was difficult, but awesome. I love how I feel after I work out but at the same time, slacking has definitely had an effect on me, and my body's not used to it.
But still, I'm looking forward to March and I feel confident and energized about it. I'm determined to make it a good month.
My goals are to do something physical every single day; I'll probably go to the gym 4 times a week and do smaller workouts at home when I don't make it to the gym; fast food no more than 10 times; work harder on cutting out soda (I am still SO bad about Dr. Pepper); and overall lose 3 pounds. Fingers crossed!
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