Hello! It's been forever and a day!
I have had a lot of ideas coming to me so I felt that I should be writing a lot of different articles on two particular subjects that I want to share more information about. They are:
1. Proactive parenting
2. Cognitive distortions
So I guess in a way, it will be a combination of what I've learned from being a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, what I learned in working with youth in drug, sex, and behavioral rehabilitation - a little bit of Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT), Transforming the Difficult Child, Parenting with Love & Logic, things like that.
I'm very passionate about these subjects and here's why. First of all, parenting doesn't come with an instruction manual. Most of us are just kind of guessing what the right thing to do is based on how our parents raised us and what worked for us. Some of us get insights from books or friends or a new lifestyle, but some of us don't. I want this information, which is normally charged for in books and websites to be free and accessible education for everyone, because I believe that if we invest in children, we invest in our future. If we educate kids early on how to manage their feelings, treat others well, have morals, have patience and compassion, and raise their own kids, we will begin seeing a completely transformed generation of people with less crime, less hatred, less anger, less impulsivity, less making poor choices, more thinking ahead.
Many people have more intense issues and struggles. In that case, I really do suggest 1-on-1 therapy to process your trauma. It may cost little to nothing, depending where you look. This is more of a collection of generalized information than a direct care service.
I understand the need for people to make a living and get paid for what they know and are capable of, so I understand why psychotherapy and counseling services cost money. Some people can afford it, some people can't, but most people who need it don't get it. And I believe it should be a required piece of education! It's not taught in schools, it should be taught at home. But I believe many caregivers could be better equipped with the supportive education offered by therapy and could be more effective as leaders in their homes.
I have been trained in PCI and crisis management, taught psychotherapy groups, guided kids towards taking control of their lives, been a behavior coach, studied and been fascinated with psychology most of my adult life. I'm not a professional anything, but what I know and what I offer is a wealth of knowledge that can benefit at least one person. And that's really all I hope to do.
Friday, November 9, 2018
Thursday, November 5, 2015
Since I Stopped Using Careprost
I had been a religious user of Careprost since my first order in 2009 when they were $10.00/bottle and I stopped using it a few months ago. I must say that I am pretty sad about it. It was an easy decision, though. Since it's best to order the bottles in large quantities, it was not possible for me to justify dropping $80-90 on a beauty product with a baby on the way. Since I'm the primary breadwinner in our family while my husband is in school, and I will be out of work for 12 weeks, we have had to cut out some unnecessary desirables from our budget. Sadly, my Careprost didn't make the cut and I ran out of product in July.
A few weeks after I ran out, my lashes and brows became noticeably shorter and less voluminous. I try to compensate with extra mascara but it's just not the same. Some days I consider putting on false lashes but they just look too fake, take up too much of my morning routine, and I don't like how they feel. The good part is that being pregnant means less of my head hair sheds, so that feels thicker! I do love that.
When the hubster graduates and gets a steady income, I will definitely be ordering a huge supply of Careprost to last me another 5+ years! And order some extras for my mom and aunt who have also come to love the stuff.
A few weeks after I ran out, my lashes and brows became noticeably shorter and less voluminous. I try to compensate with extra mascara but it's just not the same. Some days I consider putting on false lashes but they just look too fake, take up too much of my morning routine, and I don't like how they feel. The good part is that being pregnant means less of my head hair sheds, so that feels thicker! I do love that.
When the hubster graduates and gets a steady income, I will definitely be ordering a huge supply of Careprost to last me another 5+ years! And order some extras for my mom and aunt who have also come to love the stuff.
Thursday, August 8, 2013
Why Yelling at Your Child Doesn't Work
Should seem like a no-brainer. Yet, in the moment, it's a difficult thing to control. How about a scenario?
Chris and Brian are two young brothers about two years apart. Chris is the bossier, rambunctious older brother, and Brian, his quiet, gentle counterpart. They play well together, but sometimes Chris is a little too rough when he plays. Chris begins grabbing at Brian's face playfully.
"Chris, keep your hands to yourself, bud," you say calmly. Yet, it seems like maybe you are invisible, because he's now hitting Brian's face, and Brian is a little bit in shock. And so are you.
"Chris! Stop that!" He stops and looks at you, and you give him a time-out. But he begins to whine: "Nooooo.... I don't want a time-out!"
"Get going" you say, and maybe stand up and get closer in case you need to guide him. His reaction is to whine louder, almost shouting, "No! I don't want to!" and kicking his feet in your direction. You give him some space, try bribing him with special things he can earn afterward, give him a time limit to get there, etc. Nothing works, he acts like he's going to go, but as soon as you turn your head, he's inching his way out of time-out.
Now you mean business. You grab Chris and make him look you in the face and say "Get in that corner right now, or so help me...!" His eyes widen with fear and he begins to cry uncontrollably, but is submissive.
Did yelling work? It depends on what your goal was. If your goal was to win by any means necessary so he would learn his lesson, then yes, yelling worked. For now. The problem is with the goal, not the method.
Children are born into the world, having no concept of morals, roles, identity, etc. until another human shows them what it means to be human. It is the adult's responsibility to TEACH the child the ways in which he or she should go, and how to behave. Is it the child's fault they don't understand or haven't learned to listen the first time you say something? No, the child needs to be taught how.
1. He won't listen to you unless you're yelling.
In making your goal short-sighted, to "win" the battle with your child, you also short-change him. While you are busy winning, you are teaching him that he is only doing wrong if you are yelling. As long as you are not yelling, he is doing just fine. You have just trained him not to take you seriously when you are speaking calmly, but only when you are angry and in his face with threats.
2. He lost respect for you.
He has learned not to respect you, because when you are calm, you hold nothing to the power and fear you can instill when you are yelling. Then, when he obeys to a yelled order, it is out of fear, not respect.
3. He will start yelling at you.
By far, the best way children learn is by example. It starts with clapping, saying "Mama" or "Dada", repeating what you do, and what you say. It is the primary mode by which children learn. Since children only know what they have been taught, yelling at your child teaches them that calm communication fails: you must yell and threaten to see results. This will carry on as truth until he is shown another way.
4. His behaviors won't change.
But they did, you think, he went to time-out. He will continue to hit his brother, he will continue to blow off your first prompts. Again, because you trained him not to listen to you when you're calm. If you say "Stop hitting your brother" and "Go to time out" with a calm voice, those will be ignored, because he feels he is not really in trouble unless he is being yelled at. That is the limit that has been set by you, so that is the limit he will go to.
If you have to resort to yelling almost every day with your child, then it is obviously NOT WORKING. A great quote I try to remember is, "If you always do what you've always done, then you'll always get what you've always gotten" (Anthony Robbins). Yelling more won't fix it, either. It's time to give yourself and your voice a break! You don't have to yell to get your children to follow your directions; it only makes things worse. For what to do instead, I suggest "Parenting with Love & Logic" by Foster Cline and Jim Fay as an effective approach to gaining compliance with your child. I think I can share some of the basics, but that's another post for another day.
Chris and Brian are two young brothers about two years apart. Chris is the bossier, rambunctious older brother, and Brian, his quiet, gentle counterpart. They play well together, but sometimes Chris is a little too rough when he plays. Chris begins grabbing at Brian's face playfully.
"Chris, keep your hands to yourself, bud," you say calmly. Yet, it seems like maybe you are invisible, because he's now hitting Brian's face, and Brian is a little bit in shock. And so are you.
"Chris! Stop that!" He stops and looks at you, and you give him a time-out. But he begins to whine: "Nooooo.... I don't want a time-out!"
"Get going" you say, and maybe stand up and get closer in case you need to guide him. His reaction is to whine louder, almost shouting, "No! I don't want to!" and kicking his feet in your direction. You give him some space, try bribing him with special things he can earn afterward, give him a time limit to get there, etc. Nothing works, he acts like he's going to go, but as soon as you turn your head, he's inching his way out of time-out.
Now you mean business. You grab Chris and make him look you in the face and say "Get in that corner right now, or so help me...!" His eyes widen with fear and he begins to cry uncontrollably, but is submissive.
Did yelling work? It depends on what your goal was. If your goal was to win by any means necessary so he would learn his lesson, then yes, yelling worked. For now. The problem is with the goal, not the method.
Children are born into the world, having no concept of morals, roles, identity, etc. until another human shows them what it means to be human. It is the adult's responsibility to TEACH the child the ways in which he or she should go, and how to behave. Is it the child's fault they don't understand or haven't learned to listen the first time you say something? No, the child needs to be taught how.
1. He won't listen to you unless you're yelling.
In making your goal short-sighted, to "win" the battle with your child, you also short-change him. While you are busy winning, you are teaching him that he is only doing wrong if you are yelling. As long as you are not yelling, he is doing just fine. You have just trained him not to take you seriously when you are speaking calmly, but only when you are angry and in his face with threats.
2. He lost respect for you.
He has learned not to respect you, because when you are calm, you hold nothing to the power and fear you can instill when you are yelling. Then, when he obeys to a yelled order, it is out of fear, not respect.
3. He will start yelling at you.
By far, the best way children learn is by example. It starts with clapping, saying "Mama" or "Dada", repeating what you do, and what you say. It is the primary mode by which children learn. Since children only know what they have been taught, yelling at your child teaches them that calm communication fails: you must yell and threaten to see results. This will carry on as truth until he is shown another way.
4. His behaviors won't change.
But they did, you think, he went to time-out. He will continue to hit his brother, he will continue to blow off your first prompts. Again, because you trained him not to listen to you when you're calm. If you say "Stop hitting your brother" and "Go to time out" with a calm voice, those will be ignored, because he feels he is not really in trouble unless he is being yelled at. That is the limit that has been set by you, so that is the limit he will go to.
If you have to resort to yelling almost every day with your child, then it is obviously NOT WORKING. A great quote I try to remember is, "If you always do what you've always done, then you'll always get what you've always gotten" (Anthony Robbins). Yelling more won't fix it, either. It's time to give yourself and your voice a break! You don't have to yell to get your children to follow your directions; it only makes things worse. For what to do instead, I suggest "Parenting with Love & Logic" by Foster Cline and Jim Fay as an effective approach to gaining compliance with your child. I think I can share some of the basics, but that's another post for another day.
Monday, June 17, 2013
Props to Single Parents with Troubled Children
I may start a new thing on my blog and call it "Parenting Difficult Children: Advice from a Behavioral Health Paraprofessional" or something like that. Although many kids just have more challenging personalities, all have hope and all can be taught to mind their parents. So if you feel like you are sometimes fed up and don't know what to do, and have really tried your best; you don't have to rely on social services to help. Just pick up a few tricks from the handy dandy internet and see if they work for you!
The first bit, I'd like to talk about single parents who have a difficult child to raise. It can be even more challenging because you don't have a teammate to back you up. It's a lot more work, so I don't recommend single parenthood, if you can avoid it. But it's not all negative. In a way, it's good because you only need to be consistent with yourself rather than another person. You get to be the good cop AND the bad cop. I do give props to those who make it happen and work their tail ends off to take care of their kiddos. I don't know how you do it, but I know those kids are grateful you did not give them up for adoption or abortion. And one day, they will be adults who will be grateful. And grateful adults are very powerful beings.
Okay, let me know if you have a specific topic you want covered, otherwise I'll just keep going with whatever I happen to be working on with my clients.
Much loves all over. <3 p="">
The first bit, I'd like to talk about single parents who have a difficult child to raise. It can be even more challenging because you don't have a teammate to back you up. It's a lot more work, so I don't recommend single parenthood, if you can avoid it. But it's not all negative. In a way, it's good because you only need to be consistent with yourself rather than another person. You get to be the good cop AND the bad cop. I do give props to those who make it happen and work their tail ends off to take care of their kiddos. I don't know how you do it, but I know those kids are grateful you did not give them up for adoption or abortion. And one day, they will be adults who will be grateful. And grateful adults are very powerful beings.
Okay, let me know if you have a specific topic you want covered, otherwise I'll just keep going with whatever I happen to be working on with my clients.
Much loves all over. <3 p="">
Thursday, June 28, 2012
Poly- what?
So that weird sleep thing? Yeah, worked for that one day only. I tried to pull an overnight at work after a 30 minute nap and it was the worst time trying to stay awake that I've ever had. Sure, caffeine could've helped and maybe a nap if I'd gotten a break, but by 11:00 I was yawning almost nonstop. So THAT definitely won't work. I just feel the best when I get a full night's rest, and I don't need energy drinks to help me feel happy and alert. But that's just me.
Friday, June 22, 2012
Polyphasic Sleep
I have long since believed that sleeping was a necessarily evil. Yes, it felt great, but I always wish there were more hours in the day. I envy Stephanie Meyer's non-vampires who don't ever need to sleep at all, on top of already having an infinite amount of time to live. I think that may be the appeal to me; the less I sleep, the longer my conscious life may be. Life is so short anyways.
Since I have begun working an occasional overnight job and an occasional day job with short, sporadic hours, I have officially decided to start a polyphasic sleep cycle. I'm going to go bold and try the Dymaxion cycle which means I will take a half hour nap every six hours, for a total of 2 hours of sleep per day. How productively awesome would that be? So productively awesome!
So here's the scoop: I slept for 4 hours yesterday afternoon and worked the overnight, with a 15-minute nap on my break at 12:00 AM. This morning I slept from 8:30 AM to 10:00 AM (1.5 hours - this was before I knew this sleep cycle existed). And I just woke up from about a 20-minute nap 3:40 PM to 4:20 PM (it took me ten minutes to fall asleep, then I got woken up by a text in the middle of it). So I am due for a 30-minute nap at 9:15 PM to 9:45 PM, which will be perfect for right before I go to work. If we have enough staff for breaks, I will take my break at 3:00 AM, or as close to it as I can get for another 30-minute nap. Then I will finish up work, go home and take a nap at 9:00 AM. I have a chunk of work until 3:30 PM so I will take my nap as soon as I get home.
Let me try to organize this:
6/22/12
12:15 AM - 12:30 AM (15 min) - I was over-tired from excessive sleeping the day before and not being used to being up so late. I needed my trusty friend, Caffeine to keep me up.
8:30 AM - 10:00 AM (1.5 hours) - Very easy to fall asleep and I had a vivid dream of suffocating (how nice). I felt so comfy in my bed I did not want to get up, but I found it easy to do so. I was kinda tired at work, but not drowsy.
3:50 PM - 4:20 PM (30 min) - I felt I was cheated because it was interrupted by a text (I will have to find a way to ameliorate this situation for the future), so I feel the same tired-but-not-drowsy as before I took the nap.
Eh, I do better with diagrams. I am very looking forward to my 9:15 PM nap, and I am really hoping it's going to be the power nap I need to get me through the first half of my shift!
So, if you're still reading and you haven't been confused away by all these times and rambling, I will keep up with this schedule no matter what it takes for at least one week. I'm not sure how well 2 hours of sleep is going to work out, so I don't really want to promise longer, in case it turns out I'm insane for trying and I want to destroy all mortal lives I come in contact with. But if it doesn't work out, then I will switch to a cycle that has more hours of sleep. I will keep updating regularly.
Since I have begun working an occasional overnight job and an occasional day job with short, sporadic hours, I have officially decided to start a polyphasic sleep cycle. I'm going to go bold and try the Dymaxion cycle which means I will take a half hour nap every six hours, for a total of 2 hours of sleep per day. How productively awesome would that be? So productively awesome!
So here's the scoop: I slept for 4 hours yesterday afternoon and worked the overnight, with a 15-minute nap on my break at 12:00 AM. This morning I slept from 8:30 AM to 10:00 AM (1.5 hours - this was before I knew this sleep cycle existed). And I just woke up from about a 20-minute nap 3:40 PM to 4:20 PM (it took me ten minutes to fall asleep, then I got woken up by a text in the middle of it). So I am due for a 30-minute nap at 9:15 PM to 9:45 PM, which will be perfect for right before I go to work. If we have enough staff for breaks, I will take my break at 3:00 AM, or as close to it as I can get for another 30-minute nap. Then I will finish up work, go home and take a nap at 9:00 AM. I have a chunk of work until 3:30 PM so I will take my nap as soon as I get home.
Let me try to organize this:
6/22/12
12:15 AM - 12:30 AM (15 min) - I was over-tired from excessive sleeping the day before and not being used to being up so late. I needed my trusty friend, Caffeine to keep me up.
8:30 AM - 10:00 AM (1.5 hours) - Very easy to fall asleep and I had a vivid dream of suffocating (how nice). I felt so comfy in my bed I did not want to get up, but I found it easy to do so. I was kinda tired at work, but not drowsy.
3:50 PM - 4:20 PM (30 min) - I felt I was cheated because it was interrupted by a text (I will have to find a way to ameliorate this situation for the future), so I feel the same tired-but-not-drowsy as before I took the nap.
Eh, I do better with diagrams. I am very looking forward to my 9:15 PM nap, and I am really hoping it's going to be the power nap I need to get me through the first half of my shift!
So, if you're still reading and you haven't been confused away by all these times and rambling, I will keep up with this schedule no matter what it takes for at least one week. I'm not sure how well 2 hours of sleep is going to work out, so I don't really want to promise longer, in case it turns out I'm insane for trying and I want to destroy all mortal lives I come in contact with. But if it doesn't work out, then I will switch to a cycle that has more hours of sleep. I will keep updating regularly.
Sunday, April 22, 2012
Create a post. Man, blogger has changed it's layout a lot. Itt was very confusing trying to find out how to just make a stupid post on here. The reason I want to so bad right now is because I think I drank too much Delsym and so I'm extremely loopy. Basically, I'm high. Jason did a lot to try to take care of me and put me to bed, but I couldn't sleep so when I came out of my room, he got upset and all bothered because of me. I feel bad about that. He was gonna stay to make sure I would be ok, but he just left a little bit ago, didn't even look at me or give me a hug, just up and left. I know he is worn out from work today, having to prompt kids 20 million times. But come on,... help me out here. I don't know but I worry about him. I worry that he doesn't care about me as much as he used to. Like I just tend to piss him off all the time. Or bug him, at least some of the time. I feel so bad, I wish Yeah he's mad, he just texted me. Why would he do that? He knows I'm messed up on Delsym. I got a tiny sting in my eye from wanting to cry but it was very easy to forget that feeling just now. I apologized and stuff. Don't know what else to tell him, I'll make more sense tomorrow. He doesn't understand right now. I'll be able to explain it when I'm sober. Man, I can't feel anything. I feel things I touch. I feel cold air. I said it was like an iceburg earlier. Haha. So dramatic. It feels soooooo weird. Ok I have some touch with reality. I know I am conscious, I recognize my surroundings. But I feel like my nerves are dulled, and my reactions are slow. It's hard to focus my eyes, they are also slow. A few times, I've wanted to feel anxiety in my stomach, or rather, I should have felt anxiety in my stomach but when I went to reach in my mind to see how my stomach felt, there was nothing. And then pretty soon, I forgot why I should be anxious at all. The whole reason I drank that shit was to get rid of this cough, but it hasn't even done that! I still feel like crap, but even worse now because I can't even control myself right. I want to sleep, I'm very drowsy, but I keep coughing, and cough drops taste and feel weird in my mouth, I don't like them now. I should prop myself up on some pillows to ease the pressure, so I cough less. I was looking at some info about Delsym online when a piece of mud from my screen background ... I thought it was a bug or something... like it was moving. It was weird, but I knew it wasn't real, and I told Jason. He did laugh at me sometimes, like I did, but I think in general, he was just annoyed. I feel like my body is separating....... spinning on the inside. Rotating in place. Weird, I thought I was going to leave my body. Weird, I stilll do. Shake it off. Like it ain't real. Wow.... such a strange feeling. I don't know how else to describe it. Something is trying to spin me. It pulls from the inside, from the mind, from the middle. But I know what reality is, still. And I'm not letting go; I don't think I can. Just like I don't think I can be hypnotized. Or that I can die. I bet dying feels a little like this sometimes. The part where you feel like you are detaching. I should lay down and try to sleep. My sinuses are stuffed, I keep coughing, and my throat feels dry. Stupid sickness.
Friday, March 23, 2012
Update 2012
Wow, it's really been a year now? I haven't visited this blog in a while. I'm sure no one else has either, haha. Well I wanted to read about the anxiety attack I had because I've been feeling a little bit of tightness in my throat lately, but work has been very stressful. I keep half- and quarter- cuts of Xanax in my pockets just in case it gets too much for me. Since it seems to creep up whenever I'm stressed, I'm thinking that last year the anxiety got out of control because I had been laid off from work and not having much luck finding a new job.
As for my eyelashes, I've reduced how often I put on the Careprost to about 2-3 times a week. And, honestly, my lashes are still full and long but not as much as when I had been using it every day. Since I know it takes 12 weeks from the time I start applying it every day, I know I won't see the results for a while but I miss how long they used to be! So I'm probably going to go back to applying Careprost DAILY.
My mom noticed my lashes and I shared a few bottles of Careprost with her and -- her lashes are amazing! She loves the stuff and I gave her some more for Christmas. But she was going through it pretty fast so I told her she only needs about half a drop. I have 2.5 bottles left still. I hope by the time I need more, it won't be off the market or have the price jacked up too high.
I don't remember if I mentioned this side effect: if I happen to get any Careprost in my eye, I notice that within that week I experience either too much or too little pressure in my eye to where parts of my peripheral vision seem to go temporarily blind (like when you push on your eyeball for too long and things start to fade). But it goes away after about half an hour. I have tried to be very careful to not get it into my eyes and haven't had this problem since.
As for normal life, WORK IS SO STRESSFUL! Yeah I said it twice, but I mean it twice. It's just too much for me. Maybe there are other folks who can handle it but I am most certainly not the type. I shouldn't have to come home crying every night, with my brain hurting. I've put in a request to switch my schedule to the overnights, but they seem pretty adamant about keeping me on the swing shifts. I will keep trying. Maybe switch to POOL only, so I can pick which days I work and which times and HOW OFTEN! Ha... love that part. Or maybe I will pursue a different career altogether. I've been saying a lot of prayers on the subject, and I'm hoping that the Lord will help me out on this, as He usually does when I ask.
About when I'm getting married to Jason: Still waiting to hear from the First Presidency, but of course, now they're getting ready for General Conference so we're experiencing even more delays. It's like we've gone through so many (delays) that more would almost be welcome because its the norm, and I'm afraid of what it might possibly be like to be moving forward, being that it is such a foreign concept. The right person, at the right time, by the right authority. So I'm just hoping that the Lord's timing is best, as usual, and I'm counting on that so I don't give up. Unless He wants me to? I don't know how to read any of it. I asked Him to put up roadblocks if it's not meant to be, but this feels equally as trying as a test of faith, so I'm not sure how to interpret it. I know I need the Spirit more in my life to figure it out, so that's what I'm working on.
As for my eyelashes, I've reduced how often I put on the Careprost to about 2-3 times a week. And, honestly, my lashes are still full and long but not as much as when I had been using it every day. Since I know it takes 12 weeks from the time I start applying it every day, I know I won't see the results for a while but I miss how long they used to be! So I'm probably going to go back to applying Careprost DAILY.
My mom noticed my lashes and I shared a few bottles of Careprost with her and -- her lashes are amazing! She loves the stuff and I gave her some more for Christmas. But she was going through it pretty fast so I told her she only needs about half a drop. I have 2.5 bottles left still. I hope by the time I need more, it won't be off the market or have the price jacked up too high.
I don't remember if I mentioned this side effect: if I happen to get any Careprost in my eye, I notice that within that week I experience either too much or too little pressure in my eye to where parts of my peripheral vision seem to go temporarily blind (like when you push on your eyeball for too long and things start to fade). But it goes away after about half an hour. I have tried to be very careful to not get it into my eyes and haven't had this problem since.
As for normal life, WORK IS SO STRESSFUL! Yeah I said it twice, but I mean it twice. It's just too much for me. Maybe there are other folks who can handle it but I am most certainly not the type. I shouldn't have to come home crying every night, with my brain hurting. I've put in a request to switch my schedule to the overnights, but they seem pretty adamant about keeping me on the swing shifts. I will keep trying. Maybe switch to POOL only, so I can pick which days I work and which times and HOW OFTEN! Ha... love that part. Or maybe I will pursue a different career altogether. I've been saying a lot of prayers on the subject, and I'm hoping that the Lord will help me out on this, as He usually does when I ask.
About when I'm getting married to Jason: Still waiting to hear from the First Presidency, but of course, now they're getting ready for General Conference so we're experiencing even more delays. It's like we've gone through so many (delays) that more would almost be welcome because its the norm, and I'm afraid of what it might possibly be like to be moving forward, being that it is such a foreign concept. The right person, at the right time, by the right authority. So I'm just hoping that the Lord's timing is best, as usual, and I'm counting on that so I don't give up. Unless He wants me to? I don't know how to read any of it. I asked Him to put up roadblocks if it's not meant to be, but this feels equally as trying as a test of faith, so I'm not sure how to interpret it. I know I need the Spirit more in my life to figure it out, so that's what I'm working on.
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Panic/Anxiety Attack
On Monday night, I had a panic attack. At the time, I doubted that it was actually something worth labeling (I've always been so darned healthy, with nothing ever worse than bursitis and a few flu's). So here's what happened:
In the morning, I was just chilling in my room on my bed, relaxing back and playing a game on my phone. I started to get that feeling like something was stuck in my throat, deep down inside, as if I had swallowed something so big, I could feel the pressure in my esophagus. If I laid down flat, it felt like more pressure (heavier), but if I sat up, it eased slightly. I also felt the pressure in my throat, too. But when I was laying down, it was so heavy I found myself gasping for air, because I felt like I was choking. It was not enough to freak me out or have me worried, since I'd felt it before, although rarely. I coped with it, and it went away after about an hour.
Later, in the evening, I was laying down again on my bed playing a game, when I felt it coming back. My fiance said that it sounded like anxiety so we looked it up online. All symptoms of chest/throat heaviness pointed right toward anxiety issues, but I blew it off because I wasn't feeling anxious at all, and I figured it would go away like it did before. As my hunny was leaving for the night, we hugged as usual, but it was a little too much tightness for how pinched my chest & throat were feeling already, so I quickly backed off. I said, "I'm feeling claustrophobic", explaining to my fiance, so he understood. I must have been more traumatized by that feeling than I thought, because as soon as I turned around, I felt all my nerves on edge, and I collapsed into a fit of tears. I felt scared of my body, scared of anything. I didn't like how I was feeling with my throat pinched, and that it was getting worse, so I kinda freaked out. I didn't think I was going to die or anything, but for some reason, my body was completely prepared for it. I was in flight-or-fight response mode, high on adrenaline for my own survival. Although, there really wasn't anything to be so worried about. My baby held my arms, supporting me as he looked at the terror in my face and said, "You're having a panic attack". That just freaked me out even more, and I cried and cried. I got ahold of myself a little bit, and when I had calmed down, he took me outside for some fresh air. The cool night air lightened up the weight on my chest a little. Feeling better, we went back inside, although my nerves were still hypersensitive. They quickly got even more sensitive, so I told my fiance to get my Xanax. I collapsed on the floor in another fit of extreme fear and crying, the crying of course being a result of the fear. I guess the right word would be panic: "a sudden uncontrollable fear or anxiety", which is exactly what I felt. But the weirdest thing is: there was no rhyme or reason to be panicking! So I felt crazy as the panic set in, since there was no reason for me to feel this way. I kept telling myself I'm okay, I'm okay, I'm okay. I crawled to my bed, and laid down, repeating these words to keep myself in control; I did NOT want that to happen again. My nerves were extremely hypersensitive, almost uncontrollable. But I fought it with "I'm okay, I'm okay, I'm okay." As my hunny brought me a pill, I just tried to lay as still as possible, trying to get my muscles to stop their spasms. I would not let them take control of me again. My fiance put on some Discovery show at my request; I assumed that would be enough to distract me but not enough to overload my senses. Eventually, I was able to lay completely still without moving, and eventually I returned to normal, followed closely by extremely drowsy.
Nothing even close has happened the rest of the week. Although, the following day, I was more purposefully anxious that it would happen again. Since I had read that being worried about a panic attack is a good cause for one to happen, I tried really hard not to think about it. I also noticed I was feeling a little lightheaded... aftershock?
Anyways, that's what happened and exactly how I felt. I guess if it can happen to me, it can happen to anyone.
In the morning, I was just chilling in my room on my bed, relaxing back and playing a game on my phone. I started to get that feeling like something was stuck in my throat, deep down inside, as if I had swallowed something so big, I could feel the pressure in my esophagus. If I laid down flat, it felt like more pressure (heavier), but if I sat up, it eased slightly. I also felt the pressure in my throat, too. But when I was laying down, it was so heavy I found myself gasping for air, because I felt like I was choking. It was not enough to freak me out or have me worried, since I'd felt it before, although rarely. I coped with it, and it went away after about an hour.
Later, in the evening, I was laying down again on my bed playing a game, when I felt it coming back. My fiance said that it sounded like anxiety so we looked it up online. All symptoms of chest/throat heaviness pointed right toward anxiety issues, but I blew it off because I wasn't feeling anxious at all, and I figured it would go away like it did before. As my hunny was leaving for the night, we hugged as usual, but it was a little too much tightness for how pinched my chest & throat were feeling already, so I quickly backed off. I said, "I'm feeling claustrophobic", explaining to my fiance, so he understood. I must have been more traumatized by that feeling than I thought, because as soon as I turned around, I felt all my nerves on edge, and I collapsed into a fit of tears. I felt scared of my body, scared of anything. I didn't like how I was feeling with my throat pinched, and that it was getting worse, so I kinda freaked out. I didn't think I was going to die or anything, but for some reason, my body was completely prepared for it. I was in flight-or-fight response mode, high on adrenaline for my own survival. Although, there really wasn't anything to be so worried about. My baby held my arms, supporting me as he looked at the terror in my face and said, "You're having a panic attack". That just freaked me out even more, and I cried and cried. I got ahold of myself a little bit, and when I had calmed down, he took me outside for some fresh air. The cool night air lightened up the weight on my chest a little. Feeling better, we went back inside, although my nerves were still hypersensitive. They quickly got even more sensitive, so I told my fiance to get my Xanax. I collapsed on the floor in another fit of extreme fear and crying, the crying of course being a result of the fear. I guess the right word would be panic: "a sudden uncontrollable fear or anxiety", which is exactly what I felt. But the weirdest thing is: there was no rhyme or reason to be panicking! So I felt crazy as the panic set in, since there was no reason for me to feel this way. I kept telling myself I'm okay, I'm okay, I'm okay. I crawled to my bed, and laid down, repeating these words to keep myself in control; I did NOT want that to happen again. My nerves were extremely hypersensitive, almost uncontrollable. But I fought it with "I'm okay, I'm okay, I'm okay." As my hunny brought me a pill, I just tried to lay as still as possible, trying to get my muscles to stop their spasms. I would not let them take control of me again. My fiance put on some Discovery show at my request; I assumed that would be enough to distract me but not enough to overload my senses. Eventually, I was able to lay completely still without moving, and eventually I returned to normal, followed closely by extremely drowsy.
Nothing even close has happened the rest of the week. Although, the following day, I was more purposefully anxious that it would happen again. Since I had read that being worried about a panic attack is a good cause for one to happen, I tried really hard not to think about it. I also noticed I was feeling a little lightheaded... aftershock?
Anyways, that's what happened and exactly how I felt. I guess if it can happen to me, it can happen to anyone.
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
I love my new lashes
Well, it's been over 6 months since I started using Careprost for eyelash treatment, and just look at these lovely lashes. I have mascara on, and I did pencil my eyebrows a bit, but not nearly as much as I used to put on! Here are some recent photos, then I will put up before pix:
Now here is a progression over time!
Saturday, October 23, 2010
Week 17 update
So this is supposedly when I should have maximum results. The pictures for this week don't flatter my lashes quite like the last update's did... it was a different angle, but the lashes are even longer (and I have more of them) than in the previous post. Here's a short update, but soon I will go all out and take lots of pics with good angles, so you can see. I'll also post before/after pics.
After 16 weeks (curled, with mascara, and penciled brows):
After 16 weeks (curled, with mascara, and penciled brows):
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Week 13 update
Check out how huge my lashes look already! This is after curling and mascara. Eyebrows are also penciled. Wowww!!
Monday, August 23, 2010
Week 8 Update
It's been 8 1/2 weeks of using Careprost for eyelash treatment. And I must say.... my lashes are looking GOOD!
Longer, and slightly more lush. Take a look at some pictures. (BTW, I'm still using the first bottle).
Eye on the right is curled, left is not. No makeup.
Below: Mascara + curled, eyebrows penciled in.
Longer, and slightly more lush. Take a look at some pictures. (BTW, I'm still using the first bottle).
Eye on the right is curled, left is not. No makeup.
Below: Mascara + curled, eyebrows penciled in.
Friday, July 23, 2010
Week 4 update
Hey all!
Been 4 weeks of using Careprost (Latisse generic) for eyelash treatment. Just wanted to update you on changes.
Side effects: nothing at all :)
Main effect: More of the same kind of thing from the last update, where I felt like I had more lashes of the same length. Well, there seems to be even more now, and that the longest lashes are getting longer. It's a very tiny difference, really only I notice it. However, my boyfriend has commented that my lashes look fuller (that I have more of them). Even if these were my maximum results with Careprost, I would still be impressed, especially since the stuff is only $10/bottle. I can't wait to see what the next few months will bring! Here are some pix:
First photo: My right lashes are normal, my left ones are curled. No mascara. No brow filler.
Been 4 weeks of using Careprost (Latisse generic) for eyelash treatment. Just wanted to update you on changes.
Side effects: nothing at all :)
Main effect: More of the same kind of thing from the last update, where I felt like I had more lashes of the same length. Well, there seems to be even more now, and that the longest lashes are getting longer. It's a very tiny difference, really only I notice it. However, my boyfriend has commented that my lashes look fuller (that I have more of them). Even if these were my maximum results with Careprost, I would still be impressed, especially since the stuff is only $10/bottle. I can't wait to see what the next few months will bring! Here are some pix:
First photo: My right lashes are normal, my left ones are curled. No mascara. No brow filler.
Second photo: Same as first, top view.
Third photo: Curled w/ mascara, penciled brows
Monday, July 12, 2010
Week 2
It's been about 2 1/2 weeks since starting Careprost for eyelash treatment.
Side effects:
Impatience... that's about it, really. It's been a pretty uneventful two weeks. ;)
Main effect:
For about a week and a half I feel like I have had more "good lash" days. You know those days when you put on your mascara and it just seems like your eyelashes are doing exactly what you want them to do... Well it seems that maybe there has been less shedding or something, because I have longer-than-usual lashes closer to the inner corners of my eyes (where my lashes are usually the sparsest and shortest). So I've just had several consecutive good-lash days, but they're not noticeably longer or darker or thicker. Just seems like there are more of them.
(In pictures: Week 2- eyelashes are curled with a curler and have mascara)
That is all for now! :)
Side effects:
Impatience... that's about it, really. It's been a pretty uneventful two weeks. ;)
Main effect:
For about a week and a half I feel like I have had more "good lash" days. You know those days when you put on your mascara and it just seems like your eyelashes are doing exactly what you want them to do... Well it seems that maybe there has been less shedding or something, because I have longer-than-usual lashes closer to the inner corners of my eyes (where my lashes are usually the sparsest and shortest). So I've just had several consecutive good-lash days, but they're not noticeably longer or darker or thicker. Just seems like there are more of them.
That is all for now! :)
Monday, June 28, 2010
How do I get longer, natural eyelashes?
I've done quite a bit of research on this subject. Most of us interested in adding length and/or volume to our lashes might have heard of the product Latisse, which came out in early 2009, I believe. It's active ingredient (the one that makes the lashes grow) is bimataprost, which is used to treat glaucoma (and was discovered as having a very nice side effect on lash lushness). The cosmetic industry says we who long for lashes can get this FDA-approved version of the bimataprost specifically prescribed for eyelash use for ~$120 per bottle (Latisse). DO NOT GIVE IN AND BUY THIS. This is an absurd rip off. For the effect, it may seem worth it to some. However, you can buy the generic version of this product without a prescription for only $10 per bottle.
The generic is called Careprost. It has the same amount of the same active ingredient bimatoprost in the same size bottle for over $100 less the cost. This amazing deal used to exist as Lumigan, but now they require a prescription for it (someone caught on that they were selling this glaucoma medication with out prescription). The pharmacy where you can buy it is online at "all day chemist [dot] com".
The bottles are $10 each (or $11 if you don't do good enough research), and shipping is a flat $25.
In addition to having maximum results around weeks 5-7, some ladies have experienced dry or itchy eyes and some shedding, however these occur in only some who use it, and usually they experience this unwanted side effects because they are applying too much or are getting it in their eyes.
Some have seen results in 2 weeks, and for some it has taken up to 5 or 6 to see anything change, however, the changes did come and Careprost has done wonderful things for these girls.
Some use two drops for both top eyelash lines and both eyebrows, however I think this is too much as you may experience itchy, dry eyes and your bottles running out faster than necessary. I think it is wise to put one drop on a plastic surface and apply it with a small-tipped piece of plastic (preventing waste in absorption from an eyeliner brush, for instance).
So, let me share with you my experience thus far, and I will continue to do updates on here to share my progress. Enjoy :)
-------
Ordering/Shipping:
I placed an order through the aforementioned website on Wednesday, June 16. I ordered 8 bottles of Careprost for about $105. I received an email confirming my purchase, and another email on Friday the 18th that my order had shipped. I signed for the package at my doorstep on Thursday, June 23 (that was fast!). It came with my 8 boxes, and they included some eyeliner brushes, and my order confirmation.
-------
Application:
I apply the product once a day (usually at night, but I don't think it matters). I squeeze out most of a drop (before it actually falls), and spread that onto a piece of plastic I have. Then I use the end of a bobby pin (non-permeable plastic surface that's small enough) to apply the product. I get as close to the root of my eyelash hairs as I can without getting it into my eye, and I use just enough to really moisten the lash line. I always have plenty left over, so I put that where I want fuller eyebrows. The bobby pin doesn't pick up ALL the liquid, so I use my fingertip after it starts getting really low, and just wipe across my whole brows. Nothing wasted! And I don't even use a full drop. :)
-------
Progress: These are my "before" pictures. My right brow is comparatively sparse, as you can see in the makeup-less first picture. The right lashes are curled with a eyelash curler, the left eyelashes are just normal. Not remarkable in any way. In the second photo, I curled and put mascara on both lashes and filled in my brows somewhat with a pencil. Sorry for the crappy resolution. My digital camera's brokened. ='(
It's been 5 days of using this product (the sixth time will be tonight). I don't expect any results in the next week or two really, because I know that people really start noticing a difference around the 4th week or so.
The generic is called Careprost. It has the same amount of the same active ingredient bimatoprost in the same size bottle for over $100 less the cost. This amazing deal used to exist as Lumigan, but now they require a prescription for it (someone caught on that they were selling this glaucoma medication with out prescription). The pharmacy where you can buy it is online at "all day chemist [dot] com".
The bottles are $10 each (or $11 if you don't do good enough research), and shipping is a flat $25.
In addition to having maximum results around weeks 5-7, some ladies have experienced dry or itchy eyes and some shedding, however these occur in only some who use it, and usually they experience this unwanted side effects because they are applying too much or are getting it in their eyes.
Some have seen results in 2 weeks, and for some it has taken up to 5 or 6 to see anything change, however, the changes did come and Careprost has done wonderful things for these girls.
Some use two drops for both top eyelash lines and both eyebrows, however I think this is too much as you may experience itchy, dry eyes and your bottles running out faster than necessary. I think it is wise to put one drop on a plastic surface and apply it with a small-tipped piece of plastic (preventing waste in absorption from an eyeliner brush, for instance).
So, let me share with you my experience thus far, and I will continue to do updates on here to share my progress. Enjoy :)
-------
Ordering/Shipping:
I placed an order through the aforementioned website on Wednesday, June 16. I ordered 8 bottles of Careprost for about $105. I received an email confirming my purchase, and another email on Friday the 18th that my order had shipped. I signed for the package at my doorstep on Thursday, June 23 (that was fast!). It came with my 8 boxes, and they included some eyeliner brushes, and my order confirmation.
-------
Application:
I apply the product once a day (usually at night, but I don't think it matters). I squeeze out most of a drop (before it actually falls), and spread that onto a piece of plastic I have. Then I use the end of a bobby pin (non-permeable plastic surface that's small enough) to apply the product. I get as close to the root of my eyelash hairs as I can without getting it into my eye, and I use just enough to really moisten the lash line. I always have plenty left over, so I put that where I want fuller eyebrows. The bobby pin doesn't pick up ALL the liquid, so I use my fingertip after it starts getting really low, and just wipe across my whole brows. Nothing wasted! And I don't even use a full drop. :)
-------
Progress: These are my "before" pictures. My right brow is comparatively sparse, as you can see in the makeup-less first picture. The right lashes are curled with a eyelash curler, the left eyelashes are just normal. Not remarkable in any way. In the second photo, I curled and put mascara on both lashes and filled in my brows somewhat with a pencil. Sorry for the crappy resolution. My digital camera's brokened. ='(
Sunday, May 23, 2010
Dream Story
The day I quit my job was the day my life ended. My job was my life. It took up most, if not all of my free time. I could've pretty much considered myself a slave, but my title was a live-in assistant. A wealthy businessman named Mr. Ryan Smith, who probably got that way because he was a total workaholic, worked long hours and when he got home to his mansion and family, he needed my help working some more. He didn't leave to work everyday like most people do, he often worked from home. Those were my busiest, most hectic days. "Lia! I need you to pick up my dry cleaning at Royal's, and put it where I will find it tomorrow. The jet leaves with us on it at 9 o'clock sharp. Do you understand?"
"Yes, of course Mr. Smith. Right away," my almost robotic reply was programmed muscle memory in my vocal system. I never really needed to say anything more to him. My job was to make his life easy and I loved it; too much frill of conversation would've probably gotten me fired, which would end us all.
I turned hastily to leave the home office to see if I could make it without likely earshot of him putting in another demand, but I failed again. It's still fun to try to beat my previous record number of steps out the door. And I loved hoping for the little rush of glee I got when he called for me, ever hoping it's to tell me I'm lovely or that he loves me.
"Lia, another thing." I turned on my heels, not moving my position. "Get me a bunch of those organic protein bars, you remember those?"
I knew it. A cross-town journey. I hated going alone. I felt like I'd get mugged if I stopped too long at a red light. Or maybe I was just used to the security Mr. Smith can afford to protect his huge property with in our quiet, suburban neighborhood. Anyway, I would do it happily without hesitation, of course. I breathed in until my chest was tight and sighed with a slight chuckle, "Yes, Mr. Smith." I walked slowly out, but peeked back inside at him as I turned the corner. He was still looking at me, but with a little smile. I skipped until I made it without earshot. I won.
Errands run, grocery bag full of Mr. Smith's favorite protein bars and a bag of expensive suits fresh from the cleaners in hand, I had not been mugged or killed. I dropped off the bars on the marble kitchen counter and headed towards Mr. Smith's room to put away his suits. If I could do it without getting another request, it was another victory. Just as I had been hoping for success of my seeming simple task, the two-way doors forced their way open, nearly taking me out. I slammed against the wall, out of the way. Mr. Smith's son, Will, ran full speed through the door, clutching a book, his face displaying utter terror. He bolted right past me and around the kitchen island. Before I had time to ask myself, Mr. Smith's daughter, Olivia, with the expression of murderous rage, burst through the doors the same way her younger brother had, but brought a completely different feeling through. As she bolted by me, I saw her quickly look at me from the corner of her eye. Ahh, acknowledgement. I knew she couldn't ignore me forever. She's just like her mother; greedy and self-centered, insulted by being in the same room with the help. Her eyes darted back to her brother and her body followed, bringing the rage with it. I had not been harmed in this event, but more importantly, neither did Mr. Smith's suits.
Without further incident, I made my way up to Mr. and Mrs. Smith's ginormous bedroom suite which was more of an apartment within the mansion. Knocking first, with no reply, I entered through the sliding double doors. I hung the suits on the hanger on the closet door. I picked up a few clothes strewn on the floor and bed and put them on top of the over-flowing hamper. I tried mushing it down, but it was so crammed from previous mushings, I gave up and decided today would have to be laundry day. I towed the hamper behind me but stopped to open the curtains and let in some mid-day light. The view of the lower parts of the mansion shown through. I gazed at the marvelous aesthetics of the shapes of the building with the wide, blue sky behind it and the grassy hills.
Slam! I tore my eyes and my heart from the beautiful picture and looked to see the sliding door had been shut (quite loudly) and Mr. Smith stomping to his bed, furiously attempting to undo the buttons on his white collar shirt. He was mad. I did not want to be shut in here much less within a five mile radius of an angry Mr. Smith.
He cursed under his breath as he sat down on his bed, removing his shoes, apparently he'd given up on the buttons. Mr. Smith was not often angry, but when he was it was very frightening. I tend to avoid hostility as much as possible, but there was no escape from this. Perhaps if I stood still enough, he wouldn't see me. He was all too keen of his environment, however; he would eventually notice me. So I decided to make the first move.
"Mr. Smith?" I squeaked out in a controlled, soft tone.
He jumped, startled. He looked over to where the noise came from, his expression still fiery.
"I need you to get me a new phone tomorrow. Not the same one. I didn't like that one anyway," he barked. I wanted so badly to ask, but I did not want to risk turning his anger towards me. I didn't say anything. I picked up the hamper, and ambled slowly over towards the doors. I stopped and turned around. Standing, waiting. I don't know why. But I made my expression soft and consoling, so he couldn't get angrier by looking at me. Maybe. But his head was in his hands, and he wasn't looking.
My feet carried me over to the bed, and made me turn and sit by him. The stress radiated off him, but I hated it touching me. Maybe it was safe to just put my hand on his shoulder. I did so, without reaction. I had never touched him before really. I was secretly glad for this upset, because it gave me an excuse.
Then I could feel him sobbing. And the waves of stress turned into waves of deep, sickening sadness. I knew it was okay to help now. I put my arms around his shoulders and held him while he sobbed quietly. His face, I could see, was wet and it felt hot with his hands on his forehead. I wished he would just tell me what the matter was; he would tell me when he's ready. I tried to think of what could be wrong that would make him react this way. Mr. Smith was not really a crier, to my knowledge. Is the business sinking? Maybe his money is gone? Did someone hurt his feelings? I knew Mrs. Smith hadn't been home a lot lately, maybe...
I held him tighter.
After some time, the sobbing slowed, then stopped. He wiped his face in his shirt and sat up. It was okay to let go. He smiled slightly at me, though red-faced and slightly swollen from crying. He got up and went to the sink to clean up, leaving me on the bed, hoping. The double doors slid open with a little difficulty, for Olivia came through, and she was nearly twelve and worn out from chasing her brother.
"Daddy! Will stole my diary from my room and won't give it back!" she huffed loudly.
Concerned for his feelings, I stood up and went towards her, mouthing, "Not now!", trying to get her out of the room, to her great shock and disapproval.
"No!" she yelled, "Daddy! Tell him to give it --" she trailed off at the sight of her father, who had just turned the corner to see her. She did not expect him to look so weary and I could tell she immediately took notice and changed her tone. "What happened?" she had the inherent right to intrude.
"Where is he? Where's Will?" he stalled, in a quiet tone. "Go get him, will you please?" The vindictive smile I had normally expected was nowhere in sight; she turned cautiously and went out the door.
As soon as her hustled footsteps were cleared, Mr. Smith spoke.
"Lia?" I looked up at him with concern. "I don't know how to tell them...I -- I don't know..." he trailed off, hopeless. A strange, noisy sound rang out; my phone was ringing. Mrs. Smith's ringtone. I pulled out my phone to make double sure, and indeed, it flashed "Mrs. Smith calling" across the screen. I looked up to get Mr. Smith's approval to answer but he had already made his way, furious again, towards me, and he yanked my phone away and opened it to answer.
"Lia is my employee. You are forbidden to call her or ask anything of her, do you understand? We are not to hear from you again," he slammed my phone shut and threw it hard at the wall behind me. I heard it break into pieces and fall onto the dresser and behind it, onto the floor. Ahh, the answer to the new phone question, I chuckled to myself. He interrupted my immature moment, "She won't be coming back. You are not to let her in the house. You are not to take orders from her, understand?"
"Yes, Mr. Smith." I spoke humbly.
"I don't understand what I did, it truly makes no sense to me. Yet, she has robbed me of my heart, my happiness,... my assets. Not much, of course, I never shared everything with her. But my heart, I gave her all of my heart." Mr. Smith was indeed a generous and loving man, once you got past the straight-forward, all-business, commander version of him. Mrs. Smith loved her embellished life, maybe too much. I think she didn't want to be weighed down by her family anymore. That was my guess, anyways. I wondered what would happen now, whether Mr. Smith would need me to work harder, whether he would need me at all, what will happen to the kids, etc. I wish this hadn't happened. I wish things could've stayed the same, but deep down inside I felt that everything had built up to this moment.
The next morning, Mr. Smith left on his jet at 9 o'clock sharp for his conference, despite the life-changing drama he was now drowning in. He decided to take his kids with him. They were extremely upset at yesterday's events, and decided it was best to stick together but also get out of the house for a while.
I had a few weeks in the house to myself which I spent cleaning and tidying up. I decided to take it upon myself to clean out Mrs. Smith's things that she left behind. She had packed most of her things, apparently, but left some old clothes and shoes, some jewelry she didn't like, and beauty items. I kept a pair of shoes that I happened to be fond of, although her feet were a size bigger than mine. The rest I put into plastic bags and carried up to the attic. If Mr. Smith ever decided he didn't want them gone, I could fetch them, but I wouldn't throw them out unless he was okay with it. I guess I would find out when he returned. I also rearranged some of the furniture in the house, to give it a little different feel; they left behind years of built-up emptiness and pain, they would not come back to it.
The house was too quiet for too long now. Especially at night. I went through and turned off all the lights every night, but by the end of the third week alone, it was getting uncomfortably creepy. I had scared myself into staying up later than usual but eventually fell asleep.
I was awoken by a text from Mr. Smith. "Landing this afternoon, Lia. Pls be home." ~Ryan Smith" My rigorous agenda would recommence this afternoon, I thought. Party over, I smiled to myself. But I wasn't smiling for dread of work as much as I was smiling at the thought of seeing Mr. Smith again.
I went out and bought some welcome home decorations just to brighten the place up for the family's arrival. I made sure everything was straightened and there was not a speck of dust anywhere, the house was at a comfortable temperature, there was plenty of food and drink in the fridge, and the decorations were straight. Then I went back to my room, and took some extra time to make myself look pleasing instead of peasant-y. I curled my hair, put on some make-up and a little nicer outfit. I didn't want to be over-the-top or too attention-seeking. Just nice, to make the house look nicer -- and maybe to please Mr. Smith. A little.
I sat myself in the family room, near the door, so that I would be ready to welcome them when they arrived. I read a book, a harmless (and clean) activity, to occupy myself. Expectedly, although it still startled me, keys were knocking on the metal of the lock of the door, and the bolts were undone. I quickly put my book down, stood up, straightened my clothes, and put on a pleasant face.
Mr. Smith came in, luggage in tow, followed by Will and Olivia laughing, and their luggage. They had all looked around and seemed to enjoy the decorations I put up; they were even smiling.
"Welcome home!" I exclaimed with a big smile. Everyone kind of just stared at me; it was a little awkward. Mr. Smith smiled back, "This is nice." It made me elated that I pleased him. Will and Olivia had been laughing about something before, so they continued their funny conversation, running up to their rooms, leaving their luggage behind for me to take care of.
I sighed. "How was the conference?" I asked as if business was a language I understood, but certainly not wanting to address the obvious.
"Good," he replied automatically. "I needed to get away and think. Took the kids to the amusement park a few times, saw some shows. They made friends with other kids at the conference, so they weren't completely bored there."
"I'm glad," I answered contently. I went towards the luggage to resume my duties, but he stepped over and blocked me. Taking my arms in his hands, he smiled a soft smile and spoke in a light voice: "Thank you for what you've done."
I blinked. "What do you mean?"
"I mean the decorations and being there when I tell you to, but mostly being there when I need you to. You do a lot for me and my family, it has not gone unnoticed."
"Well of course, Mr. Smith, it's my job," I justified.
"Do you know what I've been thinking about these past few weeks?" Obviously not, I lost my mind-reading powers when I was a child from lack of use. "I've been thinking about my priorities. What was happening in my relationship with Nadine was just complete dissolving. I mean, I know I tried to be around more lately, I even got a home office just for that. I took time off to be with her and the kids. I could have done more, though, I could have given her more attention, more love, but it wouldn't have meant anything to her. She just wanted things. There was nothing I could've done but let her do what she did," he explained. His face and voice had a tone of sadness in it, but it seemed that it was more from pity than brokenness. It was relieving to me; maybe things weren't going to change that much after all.
"Also, I've realized that what I've always needed has been right there with me through it all," he looked at me hinting, but I fought it with denial. He could NOT be saying what I was thinking, and secretly hoping, he was saying. I felt blood rush to my head; it was getting warmer, maybe I need to fix the thermostat.
"Umm, I don't really know what you're --"
"Lia," he interrupted my mumbling, "I've been thinking about you and what you mean to me. You're not just my assistant, you're more than that. Your sweetness, your thoughtfulness, your silly antics...just thinking about you has gotten me through the past three weeks." My stomach felt like it was trying to escape my body, and my heart seemed to shoot up into my throat. Even if I had wanted to, speaking of any kind was not going to happen. He broke the day-long silence, "So I thank you, Lia."
I sighed. Almost a year of commands and demands have finally resulted in this gratitude. But was this just gratitude? He left me thank-you notes in obscure places like the lint collector in the clothes dryer, and allowed me a whole week of luxury for my birthday, taking me out to eat and pretty much do whatever I wanted. He was my best friend. Was he trying to say more? Still holding my arms, he pulled me closer and leant his face to mine and continued in a whisper, "and I love you," sealing it with a kiss I could not resist, though my mind raced and I was still in denial that it was all happening. All his love for me was felt in that kiss, there was no thinking against it. I let my mind go, and let myself kiss him back. That was the day I quit my job. My job was my life. My life, as I knew it, is over.
"Yes, of course Mr. Smith. Right away," my almost robotic reply was programmed muscle memory in my vocal system. I never really needed to say anything more to him. My job was to make his life easy and I loved it; too much frill of conversation would've probably gotten me fired, which would end us all.
I turned hastily to leave the home office to see if I could make it without likely earshot of him putting in another demand, but I failed again. It's still fun to try to beat my previous record number of steps out the door. And I loved hoping for the little rush of glee I got when he called for me, ever hoping it's to tell me I'm lovely or that he loves me.
"Lia, another thing." I turned on my heels, not moving my position. "Get me a bunch of those organic protein bars, you remember those?"
I knew it. A cross-town journey. I hated going alone. I felt like I'd get mugged if I stopped too long at a red light. Or maybe I was just used to the security Mr. Smith can afford to protect his huge property with in our quiet, suburban neighborhood. Anyway, I would do it happily without hesitation, of course. I breathed in until my chest was tight and sighed with a slight chuckle, "Yes, Mr. Smith." I walked slowly out, but peeked back inside at him as I turned the corner. He was still looking at me, but with a little smile. I skipped until I made it without earshot. I won.
Errands run, grocery bag full of Mr. Smith's favorite protein bars and a bag of expensive suits fresh from the cleaners in hand, I had not been mugged or killed. I dropped off the bars on the marble kitchen counter and headed towards Mr. Smith's room to put away his suits. If I could do it without getting another request, it was another victory. Just as I had been hoping for success of my seeming simple task, the two-way doors forced their way open, nearly taking me out. I slammed against the wall, out of the way. Mr. Smith's son, Will, ran full speed through the door, clutching a book, his face displaying utter terror. He bolted right past me and around the kitchen island. Before I had time to ask myself, Mr. Smith's daughter, Olivia, with the expression of murderous rage, burst through the doors the same way her younger brother had, but brought a completely different feeling through. As she bolted by me, I saw her quickly look at me from the corner of her eye. Ahh, acknowledgement. I knew she couldn't ignore me forever. She's just like her mother; greedy and self-centered, insulted by being in the same room with the help. Her eyes darted back to her brother and her body followed, bringing the rage with it. I had not been harmed in this event, but more importantly, neither did Mr. Smith's suits.
Without further incident, I made my way up to Mr. and Mrs. Smith's ginormous bedroom suite which was more of an apartment within the mansion. Knocking first, with no reply, I entered through the sliding double doors. I hung the suits on the hanger on the closet door. I picked up a few clothes strewn on the floor and bed and put them on top of the over-flowing hamper. I tried mushing it down, but it was so crammed from previous mushings, I gave up and decided today would have to be laundry day. I towed the hamper behind me but stopped to open the curtains and let in some mid-day light. The view of the lower parts of the mansion shown through. I gazed at the marvelous aesthetics of the shapes of the building with the wide, blue sky behind it and the grassy hills.
Slam! I tore my eyes and my heart from the beautiful picture and looked to see the sliding door had been shut (quite loudly) and Mr. Smith stomping to his bed, furiously attempting to undo the buttons on his white collar shirt. He was mad. I did not want to be shut in here much less within a five mile radius of an angry Mr. Smith.
He cursed under his breath as he sat down on his bed, removing his shoes, apparently he'd given up on the buttons. Mr. Smith was not often angry, but when he was it was very frightening. I tend to avoid hostility as much as possible, but there was no escape from this. Perhaps if I stood still enough, he wouldn't see me. He was all too keen of his environment, however; he would eventually notice me. So I decided to make the first move.
"Mr. Smith?" I squeaked out in a controlled, soft tone.
He jumped, startled. He looked over to where the noise came from, his expression still fiery.
"I need you to get me a new phone tomorrow. Not the same one. I didn't like that one anyway," he barked. I wanted so badly to ask, but I did not want to risk turning his anger towards me. I didn't say anything. I picked up the hamper, and ambled slowly over towards the doors. I stopped and turned around. Standing, waiting. I don't know why. But I made my expression soft and consoling, so he couldn't get angrier by looking at me. Maybe. But his head was in his hands, and he wasn't looking.
My feet carried me over to the bed, and made me turn and sit by him. The stress radiated off him, but I hated it touching me. Maybe it was safe to just put my hand on his shoulder. I did so, without reaction. I had never touched him before really. I was secretly glad for this upset, because it gave me an excuse.
Then I could feel him sobbing. And the waves of stress turned into waves of deep, sickening sadness. I knew it was okay to help now. I put my arms around his shoulders and held him while he sobbed quietly. His face, I could see, was wet and it felt hot with his hands on his forehead. I wished he would just tell me what the matter was; he would tell me when he's ready. I tried to think of what could be wrong that would make him react this way. Mr. Smith was not really a crier, to my knowledge. Is the business sinking? Maybe his money is gone? Did someone hurt his feelings? I knew Mrs. Smith hadn't been home a lot lately, maybe...
I held him tighter.
After some time, the sobbing slowed, then stopped. He wiped his face in his shirt and sat up. It was okay to let go. He smiled slightly at me, though red-faced and slightly swollen from crying. He got up and went to the sink to clean up, leaving me on the bed, hoping. The double doors slid open with a little difficulty, for Olivia came through, and she was nearly twelve and worn out from chasing her brother.
"Daddy! Will stole my diary from my room and won't give it back!" she huffed loudly.
Concerned for his feelings, I stood up and went towards her, mouthing, "Not now!", trying to get her out of the room, to her great shock and disapproval.
"No!" she yelled, "Daddy! Tell him to give it --" she trailed off at the sight of her father, who had just turned the corner to see her. She did not expect him to look so weary and I could tell she immediately took notice and changed her tone. "What happened?" she had the inherent right to intrude.
"Where is he? Where's Will?" he stalled, in a quiet tone. "Go get him, will you please?" The vindictive smile I had normally expected was nowhere in sight; she turned cautiously and went out the door.
As soon as her hustled footsteps were cleared, Mr. Smith spoke.
"Lia?" I looked up at him with concern. "I don't know how to tell them...I -- I don't know..." he trailed off, hopeless. A strange, noisy sound rang out; my phone was ringing. Mrs. Smith's ringtone. I pulled out my phone to make double sure, and indeed, it flashed "Mrs. Smith calling" across the screen. I looked up to get Mr. Smith's approval to answer but he had already made his way, furious again, towards me, and he yanked my phone away and opened it to answer.
"Lia is my employee. You are forbidden to call her or ask anything of her, do you understand? We are not to hear from you again," he slammed my phone shut and threw it hard at the wall behind me. I heard it break into pieces and fall onto the dresser and behind it, onto the floor. Ahh, the answer to the new phone question, I chuckled to myself. He interrupted my immature moment, "She won't be coming back. You are not to let her in the house. You are not to take orders from her, understand?"
"Yes, Mr. Smith." I spoke humbly.
"I don't understand what I did, it truly makes no sense to me. Yet, she has robbed me of my heart, my happiness,... my assets. Not much, of course, I never shared everything with her. But my heart, I gave her all of my heart." Mr. Smith was indeed a generous and loving man, once you got past the straight-forward, all-business, commander version of him. Mrs. Smith loved her embellished life, maybe too much. I think she didn't want to be weighed down by her family anymore. That was my guess, anyways. I wondered what would happen now, whether Mr. Smith would need me to work harder, whether he would need me at all, what will happen to the kids, etc. I wish this hadn't happened. I wish things could've stayed the same, but deep down inside I felt that everything had built up to this moment.
The next morning, Mr. Smith left on his jet at 9 o'clock sharp for his conference, despite the life-changing drama he was now drowning in. He decided to take his kids with him. They were extremely upset at yesterday's events, and decided it was best to stick together but also get out of the house for a while.
I had a few weeks in the house to myself which I spent cleaning and tidying up. I decided to take it upon myself to clean out Mrs. Smith's things that she left behind. She had packed most of her things, apparently, but left some old clothes and shoes, some jewelry she didn't like, and beauty items. I kept a pair of shoes that I happened to be fond of, although her feet were a size bigger than mine. The rest I put into plastic bags and carried up to the attic. If Mr. Smith ever decided he didn't want them gone, I could fetch them, but I wouldn't throw them out unless he was okay with it. I guess I would find out when he returned. I also rearranged some of the furniture in the house, to give it a little different feel; they left behind years of built-up emptiness and pain, they would not come back to it.
The house was too quiet for too long now. Especially at night. I went through and turned off all the lights every night, but by the end of the third week alone, it was getting uncomfortably creepy. I had scared myself into staying up later than usual but eventually fell asleep.
I was awoken by a text from Mr. Smith. "Landing this afternoon, Lia. Pls be home." ~Ryan Smith" My rigorous agenda would recommence this afternoon, I thought. Party over, I smiled to myself. But I wasn't smiling for dread of work as much as I was smiling at the thought of seeing Mr. Smith again.
I went out and bought some welcome home decorations just to brighten the place up for the family's arrival. I made sure everything was straightened and there was not a speck of dust anywhere, the house was at a comfortable temperature, there was plenty of food and drink in the fridge, and the decorations were straight. Then I went back to my room, and took some extra time to make myself look pleasing instead of peasant-y. I curled my hair, put on some make-up and a little nicer outfit. I didn't want to be over-the-top or too attention-seeking. Just nice, to make the house look nicer -- and maybe to please Mr. Smith. A little.
I sat myself in the family room, near the door, so that I would be ready to welcome them when they arrived. I read a book, a harmless (and clean) activity, to occupy myself. Expectedly, although it still startled me, keys were knocking on the metal of the lock of the door, and the bolts were undone. I quickly put my book down, stood up, straightened my clothes, and put on a pleasant face.
Mr. Smith came in, luggage in tow, followed by Will and Olivia laughing, and their luggage. They had all looked around and seemed to enjoy the decorations I put up; they were even smiling.
"Welcome home!" I exclaimed with a big smile. Everyone kind of just stared at me; it was a little awkward. Mr. Smith smiled back, "This is nice." It made me elated that I pleased him. Will and Olivia had been laughing about something before, so they continued their funny conversation, running up to their rooms, leaving their luggage behind for me to take care of.
I sighed. "How was the conference?" I asked as if business was a language I understood, but certainly not wanting to address the obvious.
"Good," he replied automatically. "I needed to get away and think. Took the kids to the amusement park a few times, saw some shows. They made friends with other kids at the conference, so they weren't completely bored there."
"I'm glad," I answered contently. I went towards the luggage to resume my duties, but he stepped over and blocked me. Taking my arms in his hands, he smiled a soft smile and spoke in a light voice: "Thank you for what you've done."
I blinked. "What do you mean?"
"I mean the decorations and being there when I tell you to, but mostly being there when I need you to. You do a lot for me and my family, it has not gone unnoticed."
"Well of course, Mr. Smith, it's my job," I justified.
"Do you know what I've been thinking about these past few weeks?" Obviously not, I lost my mind-reading powers when I was a child from lack of use. "I've been thinking about my priorities. What was happening in my relationship with Nadine was just complete dissolving. I mean, I know I tried to be around more lately, I even got a home office just for that. I took time off to be with her and the kids. I could have done more, though, I could have given her more attention, more love, but it wouldn't have meant anything to her. She just wanted things. There was nothing I could've done but let her do what she did," he explained. His face and voice had a tone of sadness in it, but it seemed that it was more from pity than brokenness. It was relieving to me; maybe things weren't going to change that much after all.
"Also, I've realized that what I've always needed has been right there with me through it all," he looked at me hinting, but I fought it with denial. He could NOT be saying what I was thinking, and secretly hoping, he was saying. I felt blood rush to my head; it was getting warmer, maybe I need to fix the thermostat.
"Umm, I don't really know what you're --"
"Lia," he interrupted my mumbling, "I've been thinking about you and what you mean to me. You're not just my assistant, you're more than that. Your sweetness, your thoughtfulness, your silly antics...just thinking about you has gotten me through the past three weeks." My stomach felt like it was trying to escape my body, and my heart seemed to shoot up into my throat. Even if I had wanted to, speaking of any kind was not going to happen. He broke the day-long silence, "So I thank you, Lia."
I sighed. Almost a year of commands and demands have finally resulted in this gratitude. But was this just gratitude? He left me thank-you notes in obscure places like the lint collector in the clothes dryer, and allowed me a whole week of luxury for my birthday, taking me out to eat and pretty much do whatever I wanted. He was my best friend. Was he trying to say more? Still holding my arms, he pulled me closer and leant his face to mine and continued in a whisper, "and I love you," sealing it with a kiss I could not resist, though my mind raced and I was still in denial that it was all happening. All his love for me was felt in that kiss, there was no thinking against it. I let my mind go, and let myself kiss him back. That was the day I quit my job. My job was my life. My life, as I knew it, is over.
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Airport
Dear computer friends,
I'm at the airport. Security checkpoint was the horrendous, chaotic hassle I always anticipate it will be. The worst is over now. All there is to do is to be at my gate -- I can see it from here -- when they start boarding and make sure I stuff my crap into two carry-on bags. There's not much juice in my laptop and I'm too lazy to find a place to plug it in, so I'm not going to bother with that. I'll let it die when it's time comes, then probably continue reading Twilight. The last half of the book is not my favorite, but I can't start something without finishing it and still feel like an accomplished person. I'm weird like that.
I should be more excited than I am about going to Utah today for the next five or six days. Probably because my excitement has had a pall of pain has been cast over the day. It'll work itself out in time.
I smell greasy fast food and it makes my stomach turn, but I am hungry and it's either fast food or convenient store food. Ugh. I hate airports.
I'm at the airport. Security checkpoint was the horrendous, chaotic hassle I always anticipate it will be. The worst is over now. All there is to do is to be at my gate -- I can see it from here -- when they start boarding and make sure I stuff my crap into two carry-on bags. There's not much juice in my laptop and I'm too lazy to find a place to plug it in, so I'm not going to bother with that. I'll let it die when it's time comes, then probably continue reading Twilight. The last half of the book is not my favorite, but I can't start something without finishing it and still feel like an accomplished person. I'm weird like that.
I should be more excited than I am about going to Utah today for the next five or six days. Probably because my excitement has had a pall of pain has been cast over the day. It'll work itself out in time.
I smell greasy fast food and it makes my stomach turn, but I am hungry and it's either fast food or convenient store food. Ugh. I hate airports.
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Life
I was just watching Tuck Everlasting and it got me thinking. I like movies that get me thinking. I've had a couple of scary death dreams lately. One in particular involved me being diagnosed with a terminal disease and I could die at any minute. I was still young, I had love, I wasn't ready to die. I was scared to fall asleep in that I might not wake up. I was scared of what I would find on the other side, if anything. What happened to all those people who lived before me? Tuck says something like don't be afraid of death, death -- like birth-- is a part of the wheel. Be afraid of not living a full life." We often forget the existence of a definite uncertainty: that we never know when our time on earth will end. It could be tomorrow, hit by a drunk driver. It could be in a few days, or in a few months, or a mere few years away. It could be further down the road. Whenever it is, we will never know. It is not for us to decide. God has us here for a reason, and he will relieve us of this burden of earth life when that reason is fulfilled. For some, such as a fetus, the only reason is to gain a body, and in the case of the fetus, perhaps teach an important lesson to his/her family. Everything you do affects everyone around you, and everyone who will come after you in some way. Life on earth is short. In a few years, I will start getting wrinkles and more gray hairs. A few years later, I will have loose skin and frail bones and probably be taking 16 different medications a day just to keep breathing. That's when it gets really scary... death is knocking at the door; it will come inevitably soon. How do older people deal with this fact? When I look at the faces of my family and those I love, I try to capture that image in my mind, because I know it won't be like that for very long. I know that one after the other, I will lose the people I love around me. I wonder how anyone can bear that!? The world is not the same when the people you love and once knew are no longer in it. I don't want to live in that world. The songs like Live Like You Were Dying send good messages about life... we can't control when we go, so it's best to take care of our business while we can, as best we can. Love deeper, speak sweeter, give forgiveness we've been denying... someday I hope I get the chance to live like that... I think someday can be today.
Monday, January 11, 2010
Shopping Bug
Things could always be worse. In fact, things could look like this:
But I am quite grateful that they do not. This was in Provo last year. I miss only a little of it, but I will NOT complain that the high in Mesa has been around 70 degrees Farenheit so far this January. Why am I talking about weather... that's boring.I don't like giving a wishlist to people for Christmas because then there are expectations, and nobody wants expectations for Christmas. But really, I should wise up and let people know, otherwise I get a lot of stuff I wouldn't have asked for. Not that I'm complaining about any of it... just that there are things I want more. Last night, I dreamt about shopping -- because I can't do it. I almost bought this purse that had "mood"/temperature detection capabilities, so it was always changing color on me. I thought it was just going to stay purple, but it didn't, so I put it back. Maybe I can go to D.I. and get myself one thing. I need a light coat that I can wear with any style of outfit in mild weather. Maybe I will do that today. I like having something new that I want. Is it materialistic of me? Absolutely. It's an improvement in quality of life. It can make you feel good, but it doesn't last, and it's EXTREMELY shallow. But a girl's gotta have clothes!
Ok, I'm going to do something productive now. Have a nice day. :)
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