DBPW Day - 94 Friends? Really? You sure?

A friend is plain and simply beside you until the "end".

You don't have to explain yourself to friend.

 

You don't have to make excuses to a friend.

 

You never doubt the loyalty of a friend.

 

You don't have to beg a friend.

 

You never have to lie to a friend.

 

You don't even have to see a friend very often.

 

You don't have to be anything but who you authentically are with a friend.

And with all that honesty, they will be with you until the "end". 

At our age, 40s plus or minus, we find ourselves very often questioning our friends.  When that happens, it would be easier to know in our hearts, immediately, they are not our friend.  We could do that if we allowed ourselves but obligation and guilt stop us from seeing the obvious.  There should be no doubt at our age who are friends are.  If you can look at someone and within seconds of thinking of them think negative thoughts, that's a negative impact on your life.  You should just smile when you think of them.  Perhaps it's just an argument or you have had a fight.  They happen to the best of us.  That said, they shouldn't last at our age.  Grudges are a waste of a good day.  At our age we know each other and ourselves well enough to know what a person meant to say but didn't, said but didn't mean.  If you find yourself often saying, "what did you mean by that?", or "what you said hurt, did you mean too", you are with the wrong people. 

It's funny because just the other day doing some cyber snooping I found an old friend of mine who is the epitome of a "user".  Someone who comes to your home with nothing, offers nothing, not a dime for gas, for food, for alcohol, nothing.  Someone who thinks their company is gift enough I suppose.  Someone who puts themselves out there as a teacher and a coach, yet finds himself pushing people away that ask too much of him.  Too much being his word kept.   Someone who will take and take until there's nothing left to take and if you question the taking you are made out to be a bad person with "issues" and labeled toxic.  This person wrote another, yet another, write up on toxic friendships.  He truly would be someone I would label toxic when you get to see the real him.  Not the persona he puts out to "his public".  He is a public personality and nothing about him is authentic.  The inauthentic persona is one of generosity and wisdom, happiness and courage. 

Then you get into the core and realizations come about that make you question all.  And I mean all.  There is such a self involvement that it doesn't take long to know where you stand in the grand scheme of all things him.  No where.  If you were to say, "I am over here, can you see me?" you will be labeled needy and toxic.  If you were to question him, "Do you not care?", again, needy and toxic.  It's ironic because one of the neediest people I know is not only him, but his best girl friend.  I worry that one day this is going to blow up between the two of them.  That said, perhaps they are both so self involved they will never see past their own noses to have it happen.  I do not know.  I suspect the she part of the twosome will get very hurt one day.  When this persona and I reunited a half dozen years ago in an airport of all places he labeled his bestie as, "needing drama and sadness in her world or she wouldn't know how to survive, that's just HER way" he said. 

I have forgiven them both, never to be forgotten.  I forgive because it's easier and I realize my parts in all things us. There are always two sides to a story and unless both parties admit to that, there will never be honesty and friendship.  I will never give to either again, that's where I haven't forgotten.  I don't have enough to give to people like this.  They are a drain on me.  I can't lose myself in people who do nothing but drain energy that needs to go to the care of my illness which in turn cares for my family.  I am a very generous person and if allowed I will give too much.  I need the people in my life to value me enough to know where to draw the line often much sooner than I would have drawn it myself.  That's a truly caring person, one who stops you before you hurt yourself. 

 

It's hard to go from feeling like you have a team of people having your back to a choice few.  But as you age you realize strength does not come in numbers it comes in strength of character.  I could have a thousand friends who do nothing but think about themselves or a close knit core group that I know they would give unto themselves for me without my asking.  I have only a half dozen that I contacted when I had a recent psychotic break and I knew every one of them were waiting to hear I needed them so they could drop all and be by my side.  Now keeping that in mind I did post the break here because it's what I do now, I tell everyone everything. LOL.  I do this for anyone who might have an "aha" Oprah moment because they'd read about my break in reality.  On that note, it was pretty amazing to see the "cyber team" that actually does exist behind me whether I knew it was there or not.  

 

 

 

At my wedding in 2009 I had a group of girls at my head table that called themselves the "Executive Committee" and they welcomed my husband.  Today all but one of these girls actually know my husband and myself, at all.  It's not that they are bad people or they've been bad to me, we've just grown apart.  It was already happening at my wedding but I felt like tradition dictated I have them as my wedding party when in reality, there should have been two at best.  We cannot hold onto people because you have a past with them.  We live in the NOW, we have futures to build, choose wisely.  Your past cannot be carried into the future just because its your past.  Sometimes it needs to be left behind for you to move forward.  If you are always looking over your shoulder you will fall down a lot not seeing what's right in front of you.  Have people around you, who right now, when you think of them, make you feel loved, respected, enjoyed, and cherished. 

 

Speaking of, please love, respect, enjoy and cherish yourself so you may give the best to them they are giving to you. 

 

Peace.

 

 

 

 

 



 

DBPW Day 93 HE LIVES!

If you refer to the link attached you will read the sad tale of a fish so close to the end of it's life we had created a special box for his burial.  He's so fat, (I am sorry but "fat" must be said, I am NOT fat shaming this fish, he is beautiful in his rotund ways), that we couldn't flush him down the toilet.  He'd plug one for sure.  He is what they refer to as a "fancy goldfish" with an odd full shape and a beautiful flowing tail.  His colours are gorgeous, orange, blue, black, all spotted and colorful.  This fish just happened to have swallowed a tennis ball.  I cannot properly stress how big this fish is.  It truly ate a tennis ball when we weren't looking. 

FATTY FISH

Up until about three weeks ago this fish was lying on the bottom of the pond sideways, sometimes even upside down and couldn't right itself.  It's so big I think it's tummy prevented him from rolling over.  Okay I need you all to come visit my house and see me do my imitation of the fish that can't roll over.   *grunt* *roll* "whoo whoo I did it".  Imagine a tennis ball with a tail and then add a turtle upside down struggling to right itself and you have both me (doing an imitation) and the fish itself.  The only difference being, I am more turtle than tennis ball-ish.

When I was away this weekend my husband sent me this picture:

We are blackberry die hards so excuse the shitty picture.  This does not do justice to the size of this fish.  This fish is perhaps 8 inches from the nose to the end of the "fancy tail".  It looks like a regular fancy goldfish until you look under it and it explodes outwards from it's belly.  It has to wiggle it's entire body to move.  I kid you not, it has got to be minimum 4 inches, perhaps 5, WIDE!  I am not shitting you.  The tag line to my husband sending me this picture?  "Subject: Can't kill this fish".  Message body: "Fat fucker just came up to eat and swam back down to the bottom.  I can only assume it needed to lie down from the exertion of swimming to the top of the pond for the meal". 

All I can think of when I look at this fish is, "just keep swimming, just keep swimming" and the lessons from the movie"Finding Nemo".  Never give up.  We were two seconds away from scooping this bastard up and putting him out of his misery.  I am not sure how.  Hold it's gills shut?  But the fat little bastard wouldn't give up.  I guess it was just resting?

If this fish can keep going from half dead to perfectly peppy SO CAN YOU!  All this thing wants is to be fed once a day.  I think during hibernation it was ready to give up because we weren't feeding it, it's favorite pastime. 

I cannot believe a fat fucking goldfish has taught me a life lesson.

Never give up.  Even when you are flat on your back and not sure you will ever be right again.  Never give up.

 

 

 

 

 

DBPW Day 92 ...about me?

I had my first call today with the Psychiatric Center I will EVENTUALLY be going to for a good month or so as soon as a bed opens.  I am officially on the waiting list for a private room for the Comprehensive Psychiatric Care Program.  As many of you know I have been having some really bad Bi Polar lows for the past few months and it's time we get them under control before I hurt myself which is no answer.  I am smart enough to know when I need help.  I have held off for too long now.  It's time. 

I have asked for a private room at the center, well, because I know myself.  I will either shut down because I don't have privacy or lose it because the person clicks a pen one too many times and I will just up and leave.  Trust me it wouldn't be the first time.  See this past weekend where due to one little bout of throwing up and diarrhea I up and left a course I have been really looking forward too.  It was a two day course, I could have gone to day 2.  Okay, granted I was actually ill day 1 but I was also very annoyed that the course wasn't what I expected off the bat.  I set myself up to be sick that day whether it was physical or not, it was going to be one way or another that I would leave.  I can see that now.

Don't get me wrong I am VERY proud I went across the country, alone to do this after these difficult months.  That's an accomplishment! 

The only other option that could come from me having a room mate during this treatment time is that I would spend the time fixing the room mate so they left whole and perfectly ready to take on the world while I ignored my own problems.  I had to explain all this to the admissions person today.  I had to explain I was my father's daughter.  It's my Dad's exact protocol, analyze those around you is easier than self examination.  And I know I do this.  

Don't get me wrong, I get great joy from helping others.  In some courses I have taken I have been told that I am of great worth to others breakthroughs and "aha" moments.  That I have courage and help others  that may not be as strong around me with my honesty.  I have learned a lot during those courses I have,.  I have gotten a greater self esteem as well. Sometimes, however, I wonder if the "big breakthrough" has never happened where I have looked at myself and said, "wow I love me" because I allowed myself to give so much to others.  Sure I got superficial self esteem, from others in return for my giving but this needs to come from inside me.  I need to make this in myself.   I need to find self love.  A lot more than I have.

I know once this happens.  Once I find a place inside me that comes from great love and strength I will take over this world.  Watch out people, I am coming!  But this can only happen with a great deal of work on me, from me, about me. I can't do any of this until I learn how to cope with the lows without medication as the immediate go to.  I need to learn coping tools to get me through the lows so they aren't so interrupting of my greatness. 

Did that sound self absorbed and egotistical? 

Phew, good, I am on my way. 

 

Well, hey there gorgeous, we're almost there.  Won't be long now.

DBPW Day 91 Dan, that darn husband....

Well folks I did it.  In the height of this silly disease I managed to pack myself up and get my ass across the country alone.  My husband Dan is very much a crutch for me.  I turn to him under any stress whatsoever.  I have reached that vulnerable place now a days where I tend to cry before I get angry.  The past was anger, defensive position, first.  Now when I cry I immediately rush to my safety zone, the man I love.  My strength, my man, the love of my life.
 

I never thought ten years ago there would be a time when I would turn to anyone.  At 12 years of age I learned to take care of myself.  There was no one else there to do so.  My mother was lost in her own mind, I was abusive to her both verbally and physically and she me.  My father, was gone.  So at the young age of 12 I learned there is NO ONE you can trust, or should at least.  Now there’s my husband.  A husband.  I cannot believe I ever got married.

I had my first love at the age of 19 or thereabouts.  Oh god how I loved him.  It was too much fire.  It was out of control or so I thought.  I never thought I could feel that strongly about anyone.  I tried to run away from him, set off his temper many times thinking it would be safer to push him away but he never left.  Our passion was ridiculous but it also meant our fights were just as good.  We fought and made up like no one else.  But then it happened.  The love of my life cheated on me.  Even as I write those words, “he cheated on me” I realize it wasn’t that way, he cheated himself.  He didn’t trust our love enough not to fall into the arms of someone basically throwing herself at him.  I never trusted our love, I didn’t, but I never cheated, until he did.  From that point on until my husband I cheated on every man I ever cared about.  It wasn’t until I fell in love again over 10 years later that I allowed myself the vulnerability of love.  Pure, honest, faithful love. 

I have no idea why this went there but I think I needed to explain why I love my husband so much.  Besides my first love, before our first of many break ups, I never had faithful love.  Faithful love wasn’t realistic, it was only a risk.  

All I want now, right now, is my husband. 

I did this trip.  I made it here.  I changed hotels 3 times before I found one with vacancy for me that wasn’t a complete shithole.  I realize I never want to go to Fort Lauderdale, like ever, again.  I am not 20 and drunk all the time.  I can only imagine what the rooms when I travelled at 17 must have been like to the me today.  *shiver*.  But I did that.  I found a room after visiting three hotels.  I wont lie, Dan called to get me a room but I was the one that found him names and numbers to actually call and find one while I checked in and out of my first hotel. 

Then I made it to the course.  Alone.  Sick as a dog.  It was a silly place for a course.  It was in the convention center, seems like a reasonably good idea.  The convention center there is in the Port, security details all over, inaccessible areas, no shops whatsoever. 15 minutes to anywhere it seemed.  No wonder they gave us a 2 hour lunch, it would take that long to get anywhere but there were no cabs at the center.  It was just weird.  I am glad I saw Dr. D speak as I have already said but I am also glad I bailed.  I know I would have been very pissed off if by lunch there was no place to go but a pretzel stand.  Stuck somewhere with no car or a cab that if found would cost $40 to pick up lunch.  I know I know.  Bitch bitch bitch. 

But here’s where the bitching stops.  I DID IT.  Two weeks after a full on mental break I went on an adventure, ALONE.  I am pretty proud.  You might not think it’s much but I do.  I was very vulnerable, feeling sick, feeling bloated from that, feeling insecure, feeling unattractive and I still stayed until I got sick. 

 

I accomplished the trip itself.  That's enough for now.  That's a baby step in a great direction.  

 

Now I am home in my jimmy jams right beside the man of my dreams watching Game of Thrones.  Just yesterday I was sick in the middle of nowhere hoping Dr. Wayne Dyer didn't notice me repeatedly leaving his speaking engagement.

 

 

DBPW - Day 90 Me and Dr. D

Well at least I heard him.

I got the information pack on publishing.

Bought some discount Hay House books.

And the bathroom I threw up in was clean and empty!

You HAVE to look at the positive in situations like these. I had a horrible flight down here, had the hotel from hell, then got stuck in the boonies but at a gorgeous hotel.  The end part is what I am focusing on.  By the time today had arrived I was well enough embroiled in my own emotions I am surprised I was well enough to get up out of bed.  I didn't sleep a wink last night thinking, what if, what if, what if....what if what Nicolle, you throw up?  How about making those dreams come true gurl!  I likely created my own destiny today but you know what?  I am in the middle of changing meds, I have Bi Polar, I haven't travelled alone in FOREVER.  I am pretty proud of myself.  I haven't cried once.  And things could have been fucking worse.  Imagine some of the restrooms you've seen!

You see you fine peeps who aren't on my Facebook wall I sat and listened to Hay House writer Dr. Wayne Dyer present his story(ies) this morning with a stomach that was screaming, "something's happening in here, don't ignore us, Imodium, phafft, shmodium".  At hour 2 I ran to the bathroom and threw up, kind of out of nowhere.  I went back in to listen more.  Thankfully I had chosen, with some others, to sit against the wall in the back of the room on the floor.  I didn't have to climb over 10 people while trying not to vomit on them.  Oh god how horrible would that have been?  At the hour 3 mark I got up quietly with all my things, headed to the washroom and sat for a while and allowed the violent things in my stomach happen as they wished.  It was not pretty, and not quiet.  Sorry TMI, I know, but there's a point coming.  No really, there is.  Thank god "DWD" (we're homies now Wayne and I, it's all DWD and NDW between us) was still speaking so I was alone in the washroom.  At that point I decided it was time to call a cab and head back to the hotel.  Once here I slept for 2 hours almost instantly after just a little more sickness.

Wayne Dyer was wonderful, I will give him that.  What I can also say was it was his story and a bit of a sale of his new book (Which I bought.  Well played sir, well played).  In the 3 hours I was there, of 6 today, I loved listening to him but I wasn't sure where the publishing part came in.  What I did get is the ability to enter into a publishing competition.  And today's program was streamed online live.  All I need now is to contact them, beg to watch because of illness and being crazy, present my 365 days of ALL THIS *waves her hands around all of herself*, and BAM, my book is published. 

So all in all, for a very rainy windy day in Florida with puking involved, this girl could be worse off but not any less proud of herself.  But why would I do any of that now?

I am really quite proud of me for taking this chance to come so far from home, alone, and do something I wouldn't normally have done.  I have to give a shout out to a girl I know, Steph Amann.  Without her, over a year ago, telling me to just "go for it, just talk to someone before you leave" I wouldn't have sat through a weekend course then either and knew what my potential was.  Perhaps you don't think I accomplished anything this weekend but then I feel sorry for you because in truth I accomplished a ton.  See the upside, see the potential for worse, so it's always better. 

I may not be going back tomorrow, I already made that decision, I want to come home now.  Being sick alone and anxious too is no fun.  And DWD is done for the weekend.  But I did this, I came here.  I was almost in a psychiatric ward two weeks ago on a three day (5150 aka the "Britney Spears").  Here I sit typing to you after having sat 50 feet from Wayne Dyer. 

I am doing okay. :)

DBPW Day 89 ...it's a hawt one today....

Well kids, I am still here in Florida and holding it together.  You see I get this antsy, anxiety like feeling in my gut when something is off.  Sometimes for no reason at all.  It's the drugs I am on, I am sure of it, plus some Bi Polar and Menopause.  There is nothing technically really wrong save for INSIDE my head when it comes to this anxiety.   LOL  I guess I am without my husband and for me, it's scary.  Never used to be.   Now I am a bundle of nerves.   Not only do I struggle with anxiety but I miss my husband when he's gone for 5 minutes.  I know I know, it's gross and nauseating but it's how I love, full throttle, all in. 

I slept in this morning in my hotel room until about 830.  Threw on the swimsuit and a cover up and headed to breakfast.  My plan was the pool after some grub.  Do you know how many times in my lifetime I have eaten first or had a full meal then put on a swimsuit?  I can count them on my hands and feet.  Full bellies and pools don't mix.  You can cramp and drown.  Or in my case get bloated and float.  LOL  But I did it.  I went to the pool, with all the bikini clad 20 year olds and I acted my 43 years of age and suntanned and swam, read a book and did the crossword.  I once was one of the flip over to evenly tan girls with their wee apple bottoms.  Oh how I miss my ability to rock a bikini like it's just another piece of clothing.  As good as a track suit I once thought.  At least today I felt pretty darn good in my one piece.  I wasn't fat shaming myself the entire time.  I was pretty damn comfy. 

Once it hit 42 with the humidex and my menses started cramping up I decided it was time to stop pushing fate.  All I could picture was a sunburn at an 8 hour course.  And the flight home burnt.  NO THANKS.  So I headed up to my beautiful room and took a good long rain shower.  Cause that's what's in my shower, a rain shower head.  Sweet.  Love them.  Was in there twice as long as normal just standing under it.  I need that at home, I really do.  It's very therapeutic.  And the bath products at the Westin, White tea and Aloe.  You can smell it everywhere on everyone and it's delightful.  I love it.  I plan on stealing any extras.  If I pass a house cleaning cart I am so robbing it.  Yeah I said it.  So what?  Typically I give these to a friend who does gift baskets for ladies heading back into work from shelters and the like but not these.  I tell you, this scent is dreamy.  I have to go look and see if they sell it. 

I have to admit, it really does blow when you get this feeling of anxiety for no other reason than it's too hot outside to keep myself busy.  And then I think, "what the hell am I going to do with myself, why am I here, what if.....???"  If you let it, it builds and builds until you can't take it anymore and life "FEELS" unbearable.  But it's not, it never is unbearable.  And it's only a feeling, it's not the truth.  Feelings aren't always the truth.  Life is a beautiful thing.  Look at my first paragraph with the love for my husband, that's not unbearable, that's beautiful.  

Darn Bi Polar crap.  I can't wait to get home and start the adjustments of my medicines.  3 drugs are being changed.  I joke about being big pharma, but the volume of drugs I take are a little insane and I want off them, as soon as possible.  I won't go stopping anything over night, that's just silly, but I am looking forward to working with the doctor and my trip to the Homewood Center to get plans into play to handle stressors and anxiety herbally and naturally.  I've lost touch with those sides of myself and it's time they came back.   Mindfulness needs re-entry into my world.  I can't even find my way back to meditation anymore.  It's really weird.

From a hot Florida afternoon, smelling dreaming I say have a beautiful day.  I cannot wait to share this weekend with you.  It's going to be so uplifting, I know it. 

DBPW Day 88 Grateful Yes, but I am GONNA bitch first!

So I am in Florida.  I will be grateful for that in a minute okay, first, we bitch!

I arrived at the airport fresh as a daisy prepared to take on the world and the heat of a crowded airport during my river of death I call, a menstrual cycle. 

I did well all the way up to getting on the plane.  Boarding was fine, got my bag up in the overhead, separated my stuff out and into my purse for travel, proceeded to plant myself in the seat and died.  Right there on the spot I died.  My ass BARELY fit in the WestJet seat.  I kid you not, I was being squeezed from every direction.  When a 6 foot man came to sit next to me we looked at each other and sighed and both said at the exact same second, "could be worse" I added "I suppose".  He was half on top of me.  I couldn't put my arms in a rested position unless I wanted to feel him up.  Fuck it was awful.  I don't remember the seats being that tight on WestJet or perhaps my ass wasn't that big.  That doesn't explain the poor decent sized fella next to me, he didn't have a double D ass. 

3 hours later, drenched in his and my sweat, I arrived slightly nauseous (that was new) in the most humid, hottest, busiest, airport in well, forever.  I almost died AGAIN, when I hit the wall of air.  I realized quickly I was kidding myself with thoughts of a pool or beach.  I'd fucking melt and bleed to death.  A tampon would do the trick?  Sure, one the size of a fucking flashlight maybe.  

But still, grateful me, in Florida I thought to myself as I hopped in a cab. 

When I arrived at the Sheraton on the beach, I thought, "hmmmm where exactly is this beach they speak of, must be at the back of the hotel".  Where was my beach front room?  I overlooked a parking lot.  If I leaned into the window squishing my nose I could make out a touch of sand.  Okay, I could live with that, was a great deal on Expedia.  What can I expect?  I think I can expect a clean, unstained room.  Isn't that what I can expect?  A room where there aren't odd stains on the lampshades!!!!!  A room where taking off my shoes didn't scare me. 

I left the room immediately and went back to the front desk, thankfully close with my carryon and 1 bag.  I complained lightly, saying it was likely "my snobbiness being the problem" I said.  So they upgraded me.  No extra charge they said, I will be happy they said.  Off I went whistling to myself. 

Well I was now in the south tower, the beach tower now.  Yay me.  I walked 173 miles, inside, outside, through gates, up stairs, down two hallways and got to my new upgraded room.  Whoooo whooo.  I was winded, sweaty and my back was killing me but I WAS THERE, I made it to my newly upgraded room.

It was the IDENTICAL room overlooking the patio of the pool, not the pool so I was staring at 4 women's asses.  The beach was a car sized spot through the window.  The stain, matched on the lampshade?  Perhaps a cleaning woman spit shines with tobacco in her mouth????   I could live with the asses if hubby was there, least he'd have been entertained.   

Fuck me, Bi Polar lady with OCD and anxiety tendencies is falling, falling fast I thought to myself as I watched a woman rotated half an inch in the moving sun while I stood still in my shoes as the carpet looked sticky. 

I called the husband.

He immediately called the hotel and got me another upgrade.....to the same room I had just left.  You heard me.  I left 270 to meet the manager to walk back towards 270 before I spoke up.  "Oh that is the upgrade", the Manager said.  When was this hotel made I thought to myself.  Then I asked.  1970.  Awesome.  "Has it been refurbished since that time?"  I kept that to myself. 

I checked out.  I went down the road to the Westin, another Starwood Hotel.  We are members.  There it was.  Clean design, water sounds, wood everywhere, people in suits that fit.  OMG I was home.  No rooms.  Jesus fuck.  The cab driver who had my bags had moved the car, I shit my pants.  I thought he robbed me.  

It was all very upsetting.  

Until the husband called again. 

I am writing to you now 15 minutes away from the beach, who cares. 

In a business part of town, who cares.

I am in a beautifully decorated, huge, cold, clean room at the Westin.  I have soaps and shampoo and stuff that look unused and smell lovely.  My bed is "heavenly" as are my towels.  OMG I almost flew home there for a while.  I am so happy now I skipped around the room and ordered a healthy over indulgence of room service. 

So off I go now.  To bid you all a good evening in my happy, quiet, clean, beautiful room my husband found for me in the wrong, yet perfect part of town. 

When I checked in here, no where were there people with bags of alcohol around me.  No where.  I got the weird looks for the tattoos!  I can live with that.  Perhaps tomorrow I will go lie beside the highway by the pool.  So what, it's next to I95.  But it still looks lovely in all it's spa like design with high walls of greenery and flowers everywhere.  It's very unlike the pinto bean shaped one at my first hotel with people drinking beer in cans all around.  It was then I realized I was indeed on the beach in FORT LAUDERDALE.  Dumb ass is who?  ME that's who!

Grateful(s):

It's really hot.
It's a writing course held by Miss Hay House herself.
With Dr. Dyer.
Room service is coming.
I have a $8 beer from the mini bar. 
I have valium.
I am grateful for many things but most importantly that guy Dan I married.  He's pretty darn perfect. 
Having a DAN tops all.  *sigh* He makes my life better for it every day he's a part of it. 

*love*