A lesson I have to keep learning

Abbey on her stool under the window.

We got some upsetting news about Abbey this past week.

She was set to have her spay done on Tuesday. I dropped her off at the vet’s office on the way to work.

The vet called me that afternoon and told me that they were unable to take her blood for the pre-anesthesia blood work until they had sedated her. They had her prepped for surgery when they got her blood results back. They weren’t going spay her that day.

Both her white cell count and her red cell count were lower than normal.

Some background: The day after we adopted her, we took Abbey to the vet for a check-up. She tested negative for feline leukemia and FIV. We were given a kit to get a stool sample to check for worms.

We didn’t get the sample to the vet’s until the week before her surgery, and she tested positive for worms. So we picked up medicine and give it to her for the prescribed three days, to be repeated in three weeks and six weeks.

We had not seen any signs of worms, and we keep Abbey inside all the time. But we don’t know where she was before she went to the shelter, and she stayed in the shelter for four months.

I feel so bad for not getting the sample into the vet’s sooner.

When the vet called me about her blood work, she said she didn’t think it was time to worry (easier said than done!). Abbey appeared to be healthy. The vaccinations she received the day after adoption could have caused the numbers to go down, but usually that resolved after a couple of weeks. She said parasites and infection could also cause the low numbers.

So her advice was to give her another dewormer, a different medicine that covered more types of parasites. She also gave us a vitamin supplement with iron to give her. We’ll retest her blood in a month. If the numbers are still low, we’ll retest her for feline leukemia and FIV in case she got a false negative the first time.

Abbey seems to feel good. She plays hard. She gained point 4 pounds in the three weeks from her adoption to spay day. She has not shown any signs of illness. The vet said it was fine to have her out with Chase Bird as long as neither showed signs of illness.

I did what I usually do when I get worried about a health problem with my cats or Larry—I started Googling. I know it’s a way to cope, a way to feel like I have some control over the situation.

But really, other than giving Abbey her meds and watching her, I have no control over the situation. It’s a wait and see situation until we retest her blood.

I wonder sometimes why I have to keep learning this lesson that we never can know for sure that all is well, that life throws curves all the time. But I’m not having to learn the lesson any more than anyone else. We all have lives that throw us curves. I just happen to have a disorder—OCD—that make it particularly difficult to deal with uncertainty.

So we’ll deal with what it is, if it’s anything more than an infection of parasites. And we are enjoying Abbey so much. She is a sweetie and so funny. She likes to follow Chase Bird around. Sometimes he is OK with that, sometimes he runs away, and she chases after him.

I love Chase Bird and Abbey and taking care of them. I’m enjoying that every day.

A time of anxiety

Chase Bird relaxing in the sun on the enclosed porch.

My anxiety is high, and I can’t seem to relax. That’s what I’ve been like for a while. I finally settled things with the job hunt, but I’m still in a time of change, and that raises my anxiety.

My last day with the newspaper is this Friday. Then I have nearly two weeks off before starting my new job.

It’s a busy time this week at the paper. I’m covering the first workshop the county supervisors have after receiving the proposed budget for the next fiscal year. That’s always a tough story to write, full of numbers and proposed changes and different opinions from the supervisors about how to fund the county. That’s Tuesday.

Then on Wednesday, a first-degree murder trial is scheduled, and I’ll be covering that.

And all week, I’ll be trying to put things in order for my editor and the other staff writer. The corporate office of the company that owns our newspaper has decided that my position is not going to be filled. So all of my work is being passed on to my editor and my co-staff writer. I’m doing the best I can to help them with contact information, a calendar of upcoming court trials, and background information to aid in the transition.

I know that I shouldn’t, but I’ve been feeling guilty about leaving my co-workers in that position, with all that work.

I’m not very happy with myself for letting the anxiety get to me like it has. I know so many ways to deal with anxiety. I guess knowing something intellectually is not the same as being able to put it into practice.

I did have a bit of a breakthrough Sunday. I used my phone to join a Facebook gathering to listen to classical music. At first, it was difficult for me to just sit and listen. I wanted to be busy doing something else at the same time.

But I recognized that I needed to just sit and listen, no matter how uncomfortable I felt. I finally relaxed a little and enjoyed the music.

I’m going to have to put effort into having more moments like that this week. Isn’t that strange—to have to put effort into relaxing? I think the idea of effort is really being willing to make myself uncomfortable for a bit, like I did Sunday. Making the choice to stop for just a few minutes.

I will be back on the blog next Monday, April 20. To all my friends who have blogs, I am so sorry that I haven’t visited much lately. I appreciate you staying in touch with me. 

Running like a cheetah

“You were running through the store like a cheetah,” Larry told me.

We laughed, and I said he was exaggerating, but I actually would have liked to be able to run like a cheetah on Saturday.

We had to go to the local big box store. I hate going to the big box store. I don’t like shopping, and I don’t like being in crowds, and the big box store includes both.

After a little while of dodging other people, being caught in cart traffic jams, and listening to the voices of hundreds of people, I reach the point where I take over pushing the cart and barrel my way to the checkout as fast as I can.

I shouldn’t blame it all on the big box store. I just don’t like crowds and noise, and when I reach the point where I feel like I can’t take it anymore, I feel a bit frantic and in need of an escape.

I guess I’m partly like this because I’m very introverted. And I come up as a highly sensitive person when I take the self-test.

I have to make adjustments, of course. Sometimes I have to be in crowds; sometimes I have to work in the midst of noise. But I try to limit those situations.

One of the things that bothered me about taking the town job—one of the things that was sitting in my gut, telling me to be careful—was a comment that was made to me by one of the people I talked with during the hiring process. I would have had to work with this person.

He told me that he would make me into an extrovert.

I didn’t like that. There is nothing wrong with being an introvert. There is nothing wrong with being sensitive. I’m an adult, I’m pretty self-aware, and I have learned to adapt myself to what needs to be done without changing who I am.

I will just keep adapting when I have to. And when need be, I’ll run like a cheetah.

I've been having fun with piZap.

How do you react to being in crowds?

Choices: A good thing

This is a view of the main road through Rustburg in December 2013, before the start of the Christmas Parade.

How quickly things can change! I told you on Monday that I had accepted a job with the town of Altavista. Things changed later that day.

I received a phone call about the job I had applied for and interviewed for with Campbell County. I was offered the job, and I accepted without hesitation. I will begin the job as public information specialist on May 1. I will be working in the county seat, Rustburg, which is about 20-25 minutes from my house.

Though I was glad to have gotten the job with the town, I had been having some “gut” feelings that I may not be going in the right direction.

I was afraid that I would receive an offer from the county. To me, it would just complicate things because I would have to make a choice.

Now I realize that having the choice was a good thing.

I realized that I would regret turning down the county job. And the job description? Well, it’s like it was written with someone like me in mind. It includes a lot of my favorite things to do: writing, designing brochures, updating websites, helping others with content management, providing information to the public about county issues, etc.

And I know many of the people I will be working with because I’ve covered county government for the newspaper for five and a half years. They’re good people that I have a lot of respect for.

I knew when I said yes to the job that it was the right decision. Even though I don’t start the job for another month, I am looking forward to it!

It is a full time job. But I won’t be writing nearly as much as I do now on the job, and I am determined to carve out time for my own writing. Lots of writers have to do that.

I have not applied for any other jobs. I am satisfied with what I’ve done and am looking forward to the future. My last day with the newspaper will now be April 17. I am taking a couple of weeks off to decompress.

Thank you all for your support through this very anxious time of looking for another job and another challenge. You have helped me get through this.

Now I really do feel like I can let go of the anxiety and just be for a while.

Finally

A photo of Broad Street in Altavista. I think I took this on a Sunday a couple of years ago. I was standing at the library looking down the street. English Park is in the distance, as is the Staunton River. To get to Town Hall, where I'll be working, you would turn left at that first traffic light in the photo.

I can finally share some news with you.

On Jan. 6, I applied for a job with the town of Altavista. It’s a part-time position as an economic development assistant that includes coordinating the Main Street Program.

Last Wednesday, I finally got a formal offer.

I will coordinate a nonprofit group that carries out the concepts of the VirginiaMain Street Program. I will also assist the town’s economic developer in meeting the needs of existing businesses and helping to bring new businesses in. The economic developer wants me to work specifically with younger, creative entrepreneurs.

I’m excited and nervous. I am looking forward to a new challenge, learning new things, getting training, and being in a position to serve and encourage others.

I will work fewer hours and far more regular hours than my current job with the paper, but I will make significantly more in salary.

So why am I nervous? Change is unsettling to all of us, and it tends to raise my anxiety level. I also have the new-job-worries: Will I be able to learn? Will I do a good job?

I’ve always managed in the past, and when I remember that, I have more confidence in my ability to do another job.

Another worry has been that I’m leaving a job where I (finally) was able to write for a living.

What I found was that while my writing improved and I learned to write faster, I wasn’t always writing what I wanted to—that just wasn’t my job. And writing all day/all week took a certain kind of energy out of me.

I am not leaving my writing behind. I am a writer at heart. I hope to actually start writing more of what speaks to me and I’m passionate about. And the new job will afford me the opportunity to use some of my other skills.

My last day with the paper will be April 8 and my first day on the new job will be April 13. It will be a busy time at the paper, trying to finish things up and leave information behind that will help my co-workers.

I wish I could say my worrying of the last three months is over. But I complicated things by applying for another job while I was waiting to hear about the town job. I’ve had two interviews and am waiting to hear about it. So I may be faced with another decision soon.

To choose between two good job opportunities is not easy for me. In true OCD fashion, I tend to want to find the “perfect” answer, make the “right” choice. Of course, we never know at the time of making a decision whether or not it is the right choice. And there is no perfect answer.

For now, I’m going to enjoy what I do have: an upcoming new job and a new adventure.

Yes, I love cats

Waddles and I in 2004. 

I searched the magazine racks, back and forth, up and down. The only issue I could find was the next month’s issue, already on the stands, not the current month’s issue. Cat Fancy.

I took it up to the check-out at the bookstore.

“Oh, it’s their last publication as Cat Fancy,” the salesperson said.

“Yes, but I was actually hoping to find another issue,” I said. “There was an article in it that I wanted to read.”

“What was the article about?” she asked.

I was a bit embarrassed to answer.

“I’m one of those people who follow cats on Facebook,” I said. “It’s an article about one of those.”

“Which one?”

I thought she meant which issue. “February,” I said.

“No, I mean which cat?” she asked.

I thought, She knows about cats on Facebook?

“Frosty the Frozen Kitten,” I said.

Then the salesperson named a list of cats that she followed on Facebook. It turned out that she, too, was one of those people who followed cats on Facebook.

I admit it. I follow numerous cats: Frosty, Champy Pants the Blind Siamese Kitty, Buhbee the Cat, Tenderness for Tyrone, FlowerPower.

It’s cute, it’s fun, and it’s relaxing. I’ve learned a lot about rescue efforts that are going on around the country and the world. I’ve learned about special-needs animals and the people who love them and take care of them. I’ve connected with other animal people.

But with connection can come feelings of loss. When one of the animals (mostly cats) that I follow get sick, or have a sibling that gets sick, or crosses the Rainbow Bridge, I feel very sad.

“Why do you look at those pages if they make you cry?” Larry has asked.

And I ask myself that sometimes: why do I do this to myself?

Because I enjoy reading about the antics of kitties. Because I can relate to what other pet people are going through with trying to give cats medicine, finding foods that they like, and dealing with sibling rivalry. Because I am part of an exchange of helpful information. Because it’s a group of people who value animals in the same way I do.

I know that Facebook is not the same as real life. If Chase Bird wants to play or sit in my lap, and I’m looking at Facebook, down goes my phone. I’m careful to limit my time online and keep my focus on the life around me. I’m aware that social media can be an escape from the worries and stresses of daily life. And it’s certainly been a stressful couple of months.

But online friends are still friends, even if I’ve never met them in person. I care about the animals and the pet parents I’ve connected with and want to be encouraging when I can. I’ve learned more about animal welfare and what I can do “in real life” to help animals.

So I say without embarrassment: I’m one of those people who follow cats on Facebook.

Have you ever been interested in learning more about a “famous” animal?

The news and the no-news

Slower than molasses in winter. That’s what I’ve spent the last two months thinking.

What’s moving so slow? The job search process. Or rather, the hiring process.

On Monday when I posted, I believed that I would have news to tell you about a new job. I don’t. So here’s the news about my job search and the way I keep getting—no news.

I applied for a job in early January. I can’t give any details about the job yet. But I can say that I believe I would enjoy the work. Compared to my current job, I would work fewer hours but make significantly more in salary.

That sounds too good to be true. But it is a legit job. It would be a way to be a public servant again, something I’ve missed.

It has been a laborious process. I interviewed. Then I interviewed again. Then I met with two more people as a courtesy. Then I waited while an unexpected crisis hit the employer. I was praised for the patience I had shown.

Then, finally, with only one more step—a step that was more courteous in nature for another group than anything else—I was told that I would receive a formal offer Wednesday.

The courteous step turned into a quagmire. Now I’ve got two more weeks to wait.

Why am I willing to go through all this? Believe me, I’ve asked myself that question. I’ve been very frustrated. I’ve made plans, then had to undo plans. As most hiring processes go, it’s ridiculous.

But I am excited about the job. I want a new challenge. I can use more of my skills. I know the people I would be working for and with. I believe it would be a good fit.

I enjoy my job now. But one side effect of writing news articles for a living is that it’s harder for me to have the right kind of energy for doing the writing I love.

And I’ve been told—and I believe—that the slower-than-molasses-in-winter process isn’t about me. It’s about things out of my control.

And there lies my frustration. I can’t do anything about the process. I can’t hurry it up.

Situations like this raise my anxiety level. I’m tired. I have headaches. I’m restless. My thoughts race.

I haven’t done a good job handling the anxiety. I’ve been putting off dealing with it, telling myself that I would relax and do fun things after things are settled.

That’s not the best way to handle anxiety, and I know that. I am now trying to focus on the present. I remind myself that there will never really be a time when, in every area of my life, “things are settled” because each day brings us problems and frustrations. If I don’t practice my anxiety-reducing measures now, I will miss out on life now.

Meditation. Knitting. Pleasure reading. Lounging with Chase Bird. Laughing with Larry. Going for walks. All things I will be fitting back into my schedule.

And when this part of my life settles down, I will tell you all about the new job.

Have you ever had a strange or particularly stressful experience job hunting?

I’m still here

I am ashamed that I haven’t posted in a while and left with no explanation. There are so many things that have kept me from posting. I hope as I write the next several posts, I can explain myself a little better.

This post is about Chase Bird. Chase is a sweet, sweet cat, but he hates going to the vet. Any of you who has an animal who hates going to the vet knows how hard it is on the animal and on you when the visit has to happen.

I intruded on Chase Bird's nap on the pad on top of our bed long enough to get a few pictures.

Our vet has suspected that Chase has some kind of allergy or autoimmune condition that causes his gut problems and swollen paw pads. Back in November, we started him on a hypoallergenic diet—wet food, dry food, and treats. He was on it for two months. He threw up less, but the litter box wasn’t looking any better (I’m trying to be delicate).

After about two months, he stopped eating the wet hypoallergenic food and seemed to be getting thinner. So we started giving him Fancy Feast wet food again. He ate it a lot better, but continued with the gut problems.

I did some research and learned that a hypoallergenic diet is really about giving the animal a novel protein, or a protein that he or she probably hasn’t had before. It’s not full of ingredients that a cat could be allergic to.

Through some reading I did and through some Facebook animal friends’ experiences, I decided to buy some grain-free food. I know it’s kind of a “fad” now, but I decided it was worth a try. I found some Blue Buffalo, some of which are made with fewer ingredients for cats with sensitive stomachs. He loves the dry food. He eats some of the wet flavors. Some he doesn’t.

Meanwhile, Chase was due his rabies and distemper shots, and he needed a dental cleaning. So we decided to combine everything in one trip and also have blood work done while he was sedated for the dental work. All that happened last week.

The vet’s partner saw him this time, and she agrees that something allergic-like—something autoimmune—is going on because of his paw pads (which actually are looking good now) and because with examination she could tell that his gastrointestinal system is inflamed.

She wants us to gradually move him totally over to a grain-free diet first before possibly trying prednisone. But she did start him on Cerenia, a vomiting preventive that has been shown to have some anti-inflammatory effects. After three days in a row, he gets the pill twice a week.

So that’s where we are. He hasn’t thrown up since his vet visit. He still doesn’t like some of the grain-free flavors. And it’s too early to tell if the Cerenia will help. But we are hopeful. He seems to feel better than he did over the last few weeks.

I still think Chase Bird is lonely and needs a sibling. I really do think it would help him. But Larry is not ready.

On Thursday, I will tell you the story of trying to change my job.

So how have you been? And if any of you have experience with animals having autoimmune issues, please share your experiences!

Checking in

Hello, friends. I hope wherever you are, you are safe and warm. This wild winter weather in the U.S. is wreaking a lot of havoc. It has been very cold in my part of Virginia, and it’s supposed to start snowing later today.

Saturday night, Larry and I went out to eat for Valentine’s Day. When we drove to the restaurant, the wind was blowing fiercely. Soon after we sat down in the restaurant, we saw through the window that it had started to snow, and the wind whipped it through the air. The snow soon ended, but the roads were left slick with black ice in some areas. I’m glad Larry was driving!

I’m sorry I haven’t been around much lately to visit you. It has been a nerve-racking few weeks, but I hope things will settle down soon, and I can give you more details.

I have some decisions to make. I told you last month that I was waiting to hear about a job I applied for. I may have an announcement soon about that. Things are moving slowly, and I will be so happy to make a decision and feel more settled.

Take care of yourselves, and I plan to be back here on Thursday!

The worst thing ever . . . sometimes isn’t

Above and below, Chase Bird enjoying the sunshine on his fur on our enclosed back porch.
Winter temps return this week.

I’ve just about lost all hope for the new job. I am supposed to hear something “in short order,” but who knows when that will be or what I’ll be told?

Anyway, that’s not what I’ll write about today. Instead, I want to write about something that happened last week: one of my worst OCD fears came true.

I go through spells when I read and reread emails or comments that I write before hitting the “send” or “post” buttons. I fear that I will write something completely inappropriate or to the wrong person. So the way to keep that from happening is to check, repeatedly, compulsively.

What would be so bad about writing the wrong thing? I could hurt someone’s feelings. I could insult someone. I could make myself look bad to someone else. I could say something untrue. In my worst-case scenarios, I could suffer horrible embarrassment that would last forever, lose my job, lose a friend, be sued, or end up in jail (I know—sounds way out there, but that’s how OCD works).

So last week I received an email in my work email account from someone whose opinions and words I included in a news article. He wanted to clarify for me something that he had talked about. He didn’t ask me to change anything or do a clarification. I should note that he also complimented the article.

I wanted my editor Mark’s opinion on this, so I forwarded the email to him, told him what I had in my notes, and asked if I should respond in any way.

Did I say I forwarded the email to Mark? Oh, no. I replied to the email that the original man sent me. With the message to Mark.

When I realized what I’d done, which was almost immediately after I hit “send,” I said, “Darn!” The word I said wasn’t really darn, but it had four letters. My co-worker Amy started laughing, saying, “Something must really be wrong if you said that, Tina.”

My other co-worker Matt and I tried to figure out a way to retrieve my email, but it basically can’t be done with the mail servers we have.

I was beside myself. I thought I would never be able to face this person again. While I hadn’t said anything critical of him in my email, it was still worded for my editor, not for the person in question. I was afraid he would call. I was afraid he would never trust me as a journalist again. He would tell everyone else not to trust me.

After stewing for a few minutes, I decided to just face it head on. I sent the person another email, apologizing for sending him one meant for Mark. I told him I was very sensitive to getting things right in my articles and would discuss it with Mark when he got back to the office Monday.

Fairly quickly, I heard back from this person. And it was not a big deal to him. He further complimented me on being fair and accurate in my portrayal of his viewpoints.

I’m still embarrassed about what I did. I still wish I hadn’t done it. I will probably be extra vigilant for a while before I hit that “send” button, though for all my checking, I still made a mistake. That is a lesson to not let the checking get into the compulsive range.

But the worst that I had imagined didn’t happen. And I have the feeling that if the worst did happen, I would handle it. After all, why would I suddenly stop being able to handle life? I’m far from perfect, but I do successfully handle most things eventually.

Just remember: sometimes what we imagine will be the worst thing ever really isn’t.

Have you ever hit “send” too quickly?

Waiting and anxiety

I haven’t been very active in the blogging world lately, and I apologize for that. I miss you!

I thought I was on the road to recovery, but the cough and other symptoms came back with a vengeance. I just haven’t felt very good.

But life goes on, doesn’t it?

I am waiting to hear some news that would create a change in my life.

I applied for a job that would actually be for less hours than I work now, and would still allow me time for my editing business. And the new job would pay significantly more.

I had my interview Wednesday (thank goodness I didn’t have a coughing fit at the same time). And now I’m waiting.

And I’m not good at waiting.

It’s all wrapped up with OCD and my craving for certainty. I want to know right now that everything is going to work out, that everyone is going to be OK, that the change I want to happen is going to happen.

But that’s not how life works, is it?

I’ve been trying some mindfulness techniques to help me deal with my anxiety. All I have is right now, I remind myself. I focus my senses on what’s around me right now, the sounds especially.

I also try to accept what is. I have done all I can in the matter. The rest is out of my control, and I have to accept what the outcome will be.

And I focus on what’s most important to me regardless of anything else that goes on in my life: Larry, Chase Bird, my spiritual life, writing, service to the world.

My techniques to help with the waiting and uncertainty aren’t perfect, but they are helping me to be able to deal with the anxiety so much better than I used to. I love that there are things I can do to help myself in that way.

Do you have a hard time waiting for news, good or bad?

Happy 2015!

Chase Bird allowed me to make one more silly “dress-up” photo of him to wish you all a Happy New Year.

This is a time when many of us resolve to do more, be more, be different, do differently during the next year. I tend to do that, too.

But as I wrote in my journal this morning, I am going to try to remember that we have the opportunity to set new goals, to start over, every single day, every single moment. We don’t have to pressure ourselves to perfectly live up to resolutions we make on any one day.

That said, I am making some plans and setting some goals. What I’d like to share with you today is my word for 2015.

I usually focus on choosing a guiding word for myself in the new year. The word that has come to me over and over is “Quiet.”

I need and crave quiet. I need time to stop the activity, to instead meditate and think and read and learn.

I also need to take quiet to allow the clamor of my thoughts to calm down. That’s not an easy task for me. In many ways, OCD and anxious thoughts—obsessive, relentless, continuous—are more familiar to me than a quiet mindfulness of the moment.

I need quiet to stop obsessing over the past, to stop worrying about the future, and t stop generally staying stuck. I need quiet to figure out how to move forward.

Do you ever find that once you start mulling over something, you begin to find others talking and writing about the same things?

I was fortunate to recently find a wonderful On Being program called “The Last Quiet Places: Silence and the Presence of Everything.” In the program, Gordon Hempton, an acoustic ecologist, is interviewed. The introduction to the program states that Hempton “defines real quiet as presence — not an absence of sound, but an absence of noise.”

Yes! That is what I want to experience. An absence of noise.

I hope 2015 will find me learning ways to experience quiet.

May 2015 be a joyful year for each of you!

Frustrated

Yes, I am frustrated. Whenever I can’t find the answer to a question quickly, I tend to feel frustrated.

My question is: why are my shoulder and arm still hurting?

The pain started a few months ago in the upper, outside part of my arm. Then it spread to my shoulder. Sometimes I had tingling and a slightly numb sensation in my hand.

My orthopedic doctor thought I had a pinched nerve in my neck. I had five weeks of physical therapy. At one point, the pain got better. But it never went away. And I started having more intense bouts of pain.

My doctor ordered an MRI of my neck and referred me to a colleague of his, a spine doctor.

I saw her on Monday, and she said the MRI showed degenerative changes in my neck, but no nerve impingement.

So, where is the pain coming from?

She doesn’t know. She said the neck and shoulder have a lot of overlapping areas. She scheduled me for an electromyography, or EMG. It will test the health of my muscles and nerve cells in the problem areas.

The test can’t be done until the first week of January.

Accepting uncertainty is not my strong suit. So I’m frustrated. I am challenged to accept that I can’t always know something for sure, that sometimes I must just live with uncertainty.

I’m dealing with the pain. It’s worse at night, so I am keeping up with my regular activities during the day. I’m thankful for that. I’m taking a prescription NSAID, and that helps. Most nights, I put heat on my shoulder while I try to relax.

I have done Internet searches, trying to figure out “what’s wrong with me.” Compulsive searches for information is one way my OCD manifests itself. But I am aware of what I’m doing and try to pull myself back from Google.

I have to go with the flow of the medical field right now. I have to accept that the doctors don’t know what’s causing the pain. The answers will eventually come, I hope.

And I choose to continue to try to find the fun and peaceful and beautiful moments of each day.

Here’s one: The other day, I walked by a car parked in Rustburg. On the front of the car was a red spongy-looking ball.

I wonder what that is, I thought.

Then I saw the reindeer antlers.

Car as Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer!

How do you deal with uncertainty?

A pause in the overwhelm

“The best way to spread Christmas Cheer, is singing loud for all to hear.”

-Buddy in the movie Elf

  

A hectic week behind me and another one ahead. Or so it seems when I think of all that I have to do. I remind myself that I don’t have to do everything at once, and it will all get done eventually. Right?

Larry and I spent some time outside the Land of Overwhelm Sunday. We got out the trees (one large and one small) and decorated the large one that we put in the den. Here’s a photo taken with my phone:

 

We still need to add the finishing touches, including the tree skirt.

While we decorated, we watched the movie Elf. My blogger friend Keith Wynn of Musings of An Unapologetic Dreamer recommended the movie as one of his favorites, and he recently sprinkled Facebook with quotes from it.

We enjoyed Elf. It made us laugh and feel a bit more lighthearted about the holidays.

As we go through this week, let’s find ways to take a break from the work and stress and enjoy the moment.

Chase Bird isn't sure what he thinks of the intrusion of the tree. His expression says it all.

What is your favorite holiday movie?

Getting in the holiday spirit

I'm sharing some shots of nature-based ornaments that were on the tree in the Peaks of Otter Lodge.

The other day, a friend told me he just wasn’t in the Christmas spirit yet. Even though lights and trees and other decorations seem to have spilled out onto the landscape within the last week or so, he’s just not there yet.

I’m not quite there yet, either. I think part of it has to do with the differences in planning and decorating that have occurred since I was a child.

When I was a child, stores didn’t usually put up Christmas decorations until after Thanksgiving. When I went with my parents to Lynchburg to shop in December, part of the pleasure was to walk along the sidewalks and look at each store’s window displays.

Each store had something different—angel figures or a Santa Claus or trees. If the display had a moving part—like a Santa that waved his hand—that made it even more fun.

And I would start to get excited.

We always had a live pine tree that my father set up in the living room. It would go up about a week before Christmas. Putting the lights on was the first hurdle. Back then, if one light on a strand went out, they all went out. Someone would have to check each one to find the burned out light.

Then came the ornaments and finally the crowning touch—icicles. I loved the sight of the silver strands hanging from the tree.

Then the time crawled by until Christmas Day.

How things have changed. Whether they’ve changed for the better depends on your perspective.

Christmas decorations show up in the stores after Halloween. Christmas music starts playing on the radio before Thanksgiving. The effect on me is that I start feeling behind before December even gets here.

I haven’t started shopping! Should we put the tree up this weekend? What about outside decorations? Everyone has their decorations up except me!

Once I start participating a little in the season, at my own pace, I begin to feel less panicked. I remind myself that I don’t have to do everything that everyone else does to prepare for the holidays.

I haven’t finished my shopping, but I have done some. And it was all online. Shopping online takes away a lot of my stress about shopping. I just don’t like getting in the crowded stores if I can help it.

We’ll probably put up our tree this weekend. Larry and I put up pre-lit artificial trees. The lights are LED, so they don’t get so hot like the big bulbs would.

No icicles. Little kitties might eat them. And they seem irritating now, with the static electricity that makes them stick to everything.

Christmas movies also get me in the holiday spirit. Larry loves “White Christmas” with Bing Crosby, and we check the listings to make sure we can watch it at least once during the holidays. We also like some of the Hallmark Channel’s movies. I always watch out for “A Dog Named Christmas” and “November Christmas.”

We have our favorite Christmas music, too. Larry likes the older pop songs the best. I like the carols best. We both like listening to the CDs of Susan Boyle, Josh Groban, and James Taylor. I listen to them as I drive, a way I can include celebration in the day.

And then there are the parades. The Altavista Christmas Parade is tonight. I’ll be taking pictures for the paper. The Rustburg Christmas Parade (Rustburg is our county seat) is Dec. 14, and I’ll be there, too. By then, I will be excited.

My Christmas spirit has grown quieter as I’ve gotten older. I listen to the words of the songs more closely. I meditate more on what the meaning behind the celebration is for me. I think about all the holidays people celebrate this month.

 Times have changed. That’s normal and that’s OK. But do you know something that hasn’t changed? I still have a hard time falling asleep on Christmas Eve.

Has the way you feel about the holidays changed as you’ve gotten older? If so, how?

Doing more than just getting through it

I took this photo out my kitchen window last Monday. The town has been busy scooping up the leaves left at the curbside. They "vacuumed" up a large amount at our house last week. Larry has been busy gathering more for them to pick up this week.

Happy December! Is anyone else finding it hard to believe that the end of 2014 is upon us?

December is a particularly busy month for many. Work may be busier than usual with end-of-the-year assignments. The different holidays call us to prepare, often with shopping, cooking, cleaning, and decorating. The obligations can pile up. It’s easy to feel overwhelmed.

I’m facing a workweek that seems overwhelming to me. In fact, I’ve been dreading it. I have some challenging assignments with the newspaper that will keep me working late at least two, possibly three nights this week. And I have some personal obligations to take care of.

Even before I started my four-day Thanksgiving weekend, I looked forward and hated the thought of this coming week. It would be one of those weeks that I’d just get through, I thought. Just put my head down and do it and anticipate the weekend.

But . . . I don’t want to do that anymore. I don’t want to feel like I have to “get through” certain days. I no longer want to wait until everything is “perfect”—not a hint of depression, no anxiety, no obsessive thoughts, no obligations, no responsibilities, etc.—to enjoy and appreciate life.

Granted, we all face difficult times when through necessity we just put one foot in front of the other. But this is a workweek I’m dreading. These weeks are a regular part of my life. I don’t want to wait for the good days anymore. I want to allow myself to have a good day any day.

This thinking harkens back to the post I wrote a couple of weeks ago about what makes for a good day. Shirley Hershey Showalter kindly posted it on her blog.

I can’t keep the good days for just those outside the newspaper office. Yes, things get hectic. I feel anxiety when facing a tight deadline, when covering something particularly controversial.

But I enjoy the work. Why not enjoy the day? Why not make each day, in some way, a good day? Even if I feel anxious, even if I fall into some OCD compulsions because of the stress, why not see the opportunity for a good day?

After all, this day is really all I have.

So I made a list of things I could do throughout the day to enjoy the day, to do meaningful work, to handle any extra anxiety, to do more than “get through” the day. And I’ve done some other planning and some preparation.

This week will be an experiment for me. I’ll report on how it goes.

In the meantime, please share in the comments section something that you do to get through the overwhelming, busy times. I love reading about others’ strategies, and I’m sure the other readers will appreciate them, too.

I’ll be back on my regular blogging schedule this week, so I’ll see you Thursday!

Anticipating the worst gets you nowhere

"A bit of autumn"

Every time I woke up Saturday night into Sunday morning, I thought about the upcoming Confrontation.

They won’t believe me.

I’m going to get upset.

I’m going to start crying.

If they can’t help me, I’m going to have to go probably a week without enough meds.

It’s going to be too hard.

I turned over and told myself that I couldn’t know then, in the middle of the night, lying in my bed, what would happen. It might not be so bad. I’d deal with it then.

I fell asleep.

Then I woke up again, and the fears would take over again.

I was experiencing classic anticipatory anxiety, where I was getting anxious about an upcoming event or interaction. I was feeling the anxiety as if I were in the middle of the situation, and the situation was going badly.

What was the Confrontation I dreaded?

A talk with the pharmacist at the local drugstore.

I hate confrontations. I have a lot of fear about people being angry at me or thinking ill of me. I have kept quiet and suffered the consequences of not speaking up, not asking for better service, not asking for what was rightfully mine.

I know at least some of this tendency is because of my intense anxiety.

The situation I faces was this: When I got my antidepressant refilled, I thought the bottle felt light. But the bottle was small and the pills were large, so it was hard for me to tell.

I pushed aside my worry. Surely, the pharmacy staff would have gotten it right.

On Saturday night, I really looked into the bottle, and I could see the bottom, with only six pills left. I checked the refill date, and it was just two weeks ago. There was no way that I started out with 60 pills.

I told Larry about it.

“They’ll think I’m lying to get some free pills,” I said.

I was also worried that they would think I was taking extra pills. That I was one of those “mental” people who couldn’t keep track of her meds.

Yep, I was self-stigmatizing too.

There was nothing concrete that Larry could do, of course. It was too late to go the pharmacy. I’d have to wait until the next day.

So I had the difficult night.

Morning came, and I got showered and dressed and drove to the pharmacy. It was just about seven minutes away, but I wanted it to be longer.

I walked into the store and asked to speak with the pharmacist on duty. She met me at the counter. I her my story.

“I don’t remember for sure if I started that prescription the day I got it. It may have been the following Monday or Tuesday. But I only have six pills left,” I said.

I was nervous. I talked faster than I usually do.

She looked at the bottle and said, “It looks like we probably gave you 30 instead of the 60. We’ll fix that.”

“I don’t have any way to prove that you didn’t give me the pills,” I said.

“That’s OK,” she said. “We believe you.”

And she put the extra pills into the bottle and apologized for shorting me.

And that was all.

No accusations. No rebuffs. No anger. No tears.

I felt the light-headed feeling I get after an anxious experience is over.

I had spent all that time worrying and creating stories with negative outcomes. I expected a bad experience, even though I knew I couldn’t know for certain what would happen.

In truth, the reality was not nearly as bad as I had anticipated. And it usually works out that way, if I’m honest.

Sure, we all have difficult interactions with others sometimes. And bad things happen to all of us. Maybe we had times when we expected good things and they never happened.

But there’s no need to worry about something that might not happen.

This seems to be a lesson that I have to learn over and over.

How about you—Do you ever experience anticipatory anxiety?