Ahhhhh, Facebook how I love and dislike you.

This week I posted that an EEG was scheduled for Friday.  The neuro wants to test the neural pathways to see how fluidly my thoughts and commands are flowing across my brain.  The damage could be blocking or slowing communications down.  Imagine a signal have to go around instead of directly through.

I was actually excited about this.  How fun to look at brain waves.  So, I posted on Facebook about my medical inquisitiveness and anticipation of the appointment.

So a person we shall call 'L' calls my mom, because she saw the post.  All concerned that ''everyone'' might find out and didn't I say a year ago I didn't want anyone to know?

This is the deal and realization I've come to.

When dealing with BIG life issues, now is the time to talk.  Talk about it, tell the world about it and maybe you will help someone else.  After the big crack up of 2011, I realized how important that is.  People need to stop painting their lives like a Monet.

And now you think I've gone off my rocker.

Monet was all about giving an impression of place or feeling, hiding and smoothing over harsh corners so you see everything through a haze.  People put up their own filter to the outside world, never wanting to admit weakness or need.

Well, I got tired of it.  Keeping up this little screen.  Life overwhelmed me almost three years ago because I didn't think I had anyone to talk to.  Everyone else was 'ooooooo-ing' an 'ahhhhh-ing' over life and not admitting to the rough patches.  It caused me anxiety to think about not being a good enough mom, or wife, or daughter.

And lesson learned, you drop that veil and show people you are in pain.  They either run to the hills or stand firm beside you.  It's a reality check to see who your friends are versus the aquaintences.  Moving 2400 miles away from your friends also does the same thing.  Those that truly love you will still call, text and email.  I digress.

I assured mom that through much therapy and retrospect I'm in a good place.  I don't care anymore what people think about how I process the happiness, stress, joy, anger, laughter, and anxiety that comes into my life.  

The ones that count know the truth.  The ones that count will understand that I can't make life decisions anymore based on their happiness or comfort zone.  There is a polarizing effect to this kind of thinking among family and friends, it means new rules.

So I came to the conclusion that I needed to share my journey so maybe one other person wouldn't feel alone or abandoned in a dark moment.  I have an auto-immune disease and it forced me to create a different outlook on life.  I had to go through a lot of emotional pain to grasp life again.  And I'm not willing to cover that pain back up because that only causes more pain. 

The human brain doesn't like a game changer and I've thrown a wrench into lives of all my friends and family.  And I'm not asking them to fix me, there is no fixing this.

***(Others ideas to 'fix' me is a whole different post)

More from The Snuggled Stitch

This little item seems be causing a stir!  Now for the orders to happen....

https://www.etsy.com/listing/154392844/pearl-monogram-letter-a?ref=shop_home_active

I Change My Mind

There is a phase in childhood that I could do without.  The discussion always starts with ''Do you want x or y?''   Child will answer enthusiastically 'X! X! X!'.   And you think, fantastic, what a quick painless decision.

Oh you were wrong, so very, very WRONG.  It is the beginning.

Child is handed what they choose, then sees sibling has a different (color, kind, texture, size or variation).  Truely, seriously child one could have candy and sibling is holding raw meat, the other will now lose their everloving mind.  Why?  Who knows.

It must be something that comes with being three.  Lord help us through this stage.

Most recently, Trent was awarded three jelly beans for not having any potty accidents.  VERY excited about it.  Nom nom nom....down they went into his tummy.

Then five minutes later he is ridiculously incoherent in his room.  He has run down the hall, the wail of unhappiness crescendo-ing through the house.

Little Buddy, what do you want?  Mommy can't understand and this is not the nice way to ask for it.

''Mommy, I want a different candy.  I don't want my jelly beans.''

How am I suppose to get those jelly beans back out of your tummy?

''You, you get a drill and drill it in my tummy and and and take the jelly beans out.  I get a different candy"

Buddy, that sort of a big owies for me to drill your tummy for the jelly beans.

''No, no mommy.  You drill and get the jelly beans.  I get a new candy.  It's my plan.''

Mommy shakes her head and leaves the room chuckling.