And the Beat Goes on and on...
Just another day in Paradise, here in sunny Florida. In the 80's, humidity receding (thank God).
I am in a contemplative mood. In the last few months, we have lost two precious pets, both cats: ...Morgan, my older, lovable, fat and fluffy long hair and Nigel, my younger, all black, one-eyed hellion. Morgan died of natural causes, I think. He was getting old and sickly. But Nigel just disappeared one night only to have me find him tucked behind some lush bushes under our bedroom window. I am sure that some evil critter lurking around our near-jungle outdoors space got to him. A snake, a poison filled lizard or frog. He was fairly young and loved to pounce on anything that moved. Fortunately for most wild life in our area (mainly the birds and squirrels), he was not adept at catching the larger creatures. But he loved those lizards and they hated him!
Bob's calico cat, Appie, died suddenly a couple of years ago. She just got very sick with liver and kidney failure.
I find all of these feline deaths mysterious. And to add to all of that, we have had so much bad luck since we moved to our new house in April. Excited and thrilled as we were to get approved to buy our "dream home" (3 B.R., 2 Bath, screened in lanai and pool, lush landscaping), it seems something is curling around us like a ghostly mist, causing appliances to break (so far, we have spent over $1000.00 to repair and replace various things) and animal illnesses and deaths. I don't know if I need to have a house blessing or what, but I am personally getting creeped out by all this stuff. Plus I am worried about my two remaining love-bugs, Molly and LuLu, both Chih-weenie dogs.
Now. I have to write. Not just on this Blog, but for online magazines where I have had pretty good success. For contests. Finish editing my novel, "The Anatomy of Happy" which, in fact, has been edited by a professional and I just need to make the corrections. I fear my laziness is taking over my writing motivation. And Depression doesn't help either.
There are so many things going on in my life right now and in the lives of my loved ones and I will continue to write about them in the following days. But for now...I just need to take a nap.
So much for another day in Paradise
The Beat goes on....
Roseywriter123
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January 4, 2013
Starting out the year in relative turmoil. I am beginning to think that I am one of those people who should never have married...the first time (1971), the second time (1994) and now the third...and last!...time in 2010.
Robert and I have been married for just two years but we have been together since 2007. On our tenth date I had a nervous breakdown.
Really, you say. Huh. A nervous breakdown.
Yep. That's what I get for getting too close too fast.
I didn't realize how hearing impaired this man was. At first, he told me he had a little hearing problem in his left ear. When I realized that he is basically 85% deaf (from a war injury back in the early 70's), I was livid. I was also mad because he had been fitted with special hearing aids that would allow him to hear at least 35% of what was being said. He could read lips, he said, but of course to do that one has to be facing the person who is talking.
Anyway, I was chatting up a storm to him right before Christmas....he was on his computer (what else was new?) and I sat behind him on his cherry red futon, flipping through catalogs and making out a Christmas list. I was in total denial that he could not hear a thing I was saying. So I got pissed. Why wouldn't he answer me? Was he trying to communicate to me in some obscure way that he really did not want to talk to me?
What gives, I asked myself.
Well, I stormed upstairs in my usual mature manner and turned on the t.v. to some silly sitcom that I had no interest in. As I watched, I started to cry. Why couldn't I find the perfect man with whom I could have the perfect life. I mean, just look at these television characters, all happy and laughing and holding hands and snuggling...it was pitiful, really. That is what I wanted. Nothing more, nothing less. I just wanted someone who would care for me forever, unlike husband number one or two and/or the various men in between. So I had a major pity party in my head and decided to down some anti-anxiety medications along with a half bottle of vodka. At the time, I wasn't thinking properly...bi-polar people, such as me, often have difficulties with impulse control. I wrote out little notes to my family and friends and left them in a pile on the floor.
Staggering into Bob's bedroom, I fell on the bed and did not go to sleep before I placed a call to my daughter who lived in the Tampa area, close to where we were. I told her good-bye, not to take my quitting life personally, and that I would always love her. And then I hung up.
That was the last thing I remember before I awoke in the emergency room at Tampa General. Stomach pumped, intravenous fluids being ciphered into my veins. The attendants were not very happy with me. Seems they don't like suicide cases, view them as selfish and a pain in the neck. Of course, if I had actually managed to die, perhaps they would have been a bit more sympathetic. But then, how would I know? I'd be dead, right?
The story gets better. My daughter had made a call to the police who alerted the medics to head to Bob's townhouse which is how I got to the hospital in the first place. But when they arrived and pounded on the door, Bob did not even hear them. He had no idea I was upstairs in a coma-like state and when the cops finally bashed in his front door, he was alarmed and ready to fight. He grabbed one of his hunting rifles, not knowing who was barging in or what was going on. Of course, the cops "man-handled" him (as he put it), put him in cuffs, and threw him in the back seat of their patrol car. Meanwhile, the emts had put me on a stretcher and were transporting me out of the house into an ambulance.
The real kicker is that Bob ended up in a mental ward at another hospital. He had no idea why he was there and they wouldn't release him. I was taken via ambulance to another hospital with a mental ward for a 72 hour hold (in other words, I was "Baker Acted")...
It took awhile but finally, everything got straightened out, particularly my meds which had not helped me at all with my bi-polar. I was put on special medication just for that purpose. Bob was released from the hospital before I was and he was able to pick me up when my 72 hours were up. Of course, I had to promise to join AA (which was sort of silly since I was not an alcoholic...I just knew that the combo of pills and vodka would do the trick, eventually). I also had to attend counseling sessions with a local psychiatrist and psychologist. Bob started wearing his hearing aids (at least for awhile) and things became semi-normal or as normal as could be expected with our particular situation.
I am still with Bob and we have some major ups and downs. He is pretty controlling, as am I and that can lead to some pretty bizarre "war of the roses" arguments. I find it difficult to live with someone who is so different from me. His tastes in foods, movies, events, etc. are all so foreign to me. At times, I feel as if we are roommates instead of partners. I still have to yell when I want him to hear me which is inconvenient to say the least.
Now it is he who is having some personal problems and I am trying my damndest to stand beside him and with him through his ups and downs. We bought a house here in Brevard County, Fl. and we have friends...well, I do. (Why do men have so much trouble making and keeping friends??) Often, I will take off in my V.W. bug for a day just to shop or visit a buddy or to ride around, catch my breath and be alone. I walk the beach or nature trails, meditate, have lunch by myself. I think it is important for us as women to assert our independence in ways that may have been foreign to us before. It is now and forever the way we can keep the beat from dying.
Roseywriter123
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
March 4, 2013
Since I am a reporter and inquisitor of people's goings and comings I am hoping to turn this blog into an interesting variety of stories on other peoples lives.
Everyone has a story. Or two. Or two hundred.
I want to hear from people about how they have survived this life...has it been easy. Has it been difficult. Has it been hell in a handcart??
Life is different for all of us. My life has had so many ups and downs, I could have designed a billion dollar roller coaster around it. But not all of it is printable and not all of it is interesting. Bits and pieces are fascinating. Some of it is unbelievable (but true nonetheless). However, life is not all about me and I really, really want to write about you. People who have made it this far no matter what the circumstances.
The stories can be long or short...well, try to make them relatively concise so that people won't start yawning after the first page. Splurge with content but not with words, if you know what I mean. Radiate happiness, depression, sadness, loneliness, joy. Reach out to others who might be able to connect with your story and find a solution to their problem via your ideas, research etc.
For instance: I have Lupus and it is getting progressively worse. So I am always looking for people I can talk to about the disease and what helps them, what doesn't. How they handle the ups and downs of everyday living. I also am bi-polar and although I am taking medications, sometimes depression kicks me in the butt and throws me through the hemisphere and I am not sure I will make it back alive.
There are relationship issues in my life, always have been, always will be. Just my genetic make up I guess.
And what about you?? Are you in a relationship? Have you got physical or mental challenges that you need help with or that you can offer solutions for? Is your job about to make you pull your hair out? Are you bored to tears with everything in your life? In other words, what is going on with you???
I am trying to make my blog an open forum so that people don't have to seek psychiatric help...they can make friends here, air their problems or share their joys.
Looking forward to hearing from you...and you never, ever have to use your real name. Make up something that describes how you feel. Or how you don't feel. It doesn't matter. But your story, and your life, do.
Soulfully yours,
Rosemary Hoffman Lynn
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
January 4, 2013
Starting out the year in relative turmoil. I am beginning to think that I am one of those people who should never have married...the first time (1971), the second time (1994) and now the third...and last!...time in 2010.
Robert and I have been married for just two years but we have been together since 2007. On our tenth date I had a nervous breakdown.
Really, you say. Huh. A nervous breakdown.
Yep. That's what I get for getting too close too fast.
I didn't realize how hearing impaired this man was. At first, he told me he had a little hearing problem in his left ear. When I realized that he is basically 85% deaf (from a war injury back in the early 70's), I was livid. I was also mad because he had been fitted with special hearing aids that would allow him to hear at least 35% of what was being said. He could read lips, he said, but of course to do that one has to be facing the person who is talking.
Anyway, I was chatting up a storm to him right before Christmas....he was on his computer (what else was new?) and I sat behind him on his cherry red futon, flipping through catalogs and making out a Christmas list. I was in total denial that he could not hear a thing I was saying. So I got pissed. Why wouldn't he answer me? Was he trying to communicate to me in some obscure way that he really did not want to talk to me?
What gives, I asked myself.
Well, I stormed upstairs in my usual mature manner and turned on the t.v. to some silly sitcom that I had no interest in. As I watched, I started to cry. Why couldn't I find the perfect man with whom I could have the perfect life. I mean, just look at these television characters, all happy and laughing and holding hands and snuggling...it was pitiful, really. That is what I wanted. Nothing more, nothing less. I just wanted someone who would care for me forever, unlike husband number one or two and/or the various men in between. So I had a major pity party in my head and decided to down some anti-anxiety medications along with a half bottle of vodka. At the time, I wasn't thinking properly...bi-polar people, such as me, often have difficulties with impulse control. I wrote out little notes to my family and friends and left them in a pile on the floor.
Staggering into Bob's bedroom, I fell on the bed and did not go to sleep before I placed a call to my daughter who lived in the Tampa area, close to where we were. I told her good-bye, not to take my quitting life personally, and that I would always love her. And then I hung up.
That was the last thing I remember before I awoke in the emergency room at Tampa General. Stomach pumped, intravenous fluids being ciphered into my veins. The attendants were not very happy with me. Seems they don't like suicide cases, view them as selfish and a pain in the neck. Of course, if I had actually managed to die, perhaps they would have been a bit more sympathetic. But then, how would I know? I'd be dead, right?
The story gets better. My daughter had made a call to the police who alerted the medics to head to Bob's townhouse which is how I got to the hospital in the first place. But when they arrived and pounded on the door, Bob did not even hear them. He had no idea I was upstairs in a coma-like state and when the cops finally bashed in his front door, he was alarmed and ready to fight. He grabbed one of his hunting rifles, not knowing who was barging in or what was going on. Of course, the cops "man-handled" him (as he put it), put him in cuffs, and threw him in the back seat of their patrol car. Meanwhile, the emts had put me on a stretcher and were transporting me out of the house into an ambulance.
The real kicker is that Bob ended up in a mental ward at another hospital. He had no idea why he was there and they wouldn't release him. I was taken via ambulance to another hospital with a mental ward for a 72 hour hold (in other words, I was "Baker Acted")...
It took awhile but finally, everything got straightened out, particularly my meds which had not helped me at all with my bi-polar. I was put on special medication just for that purpose. Bob was released from the hospital before I was and he was able to pick me up when my 72 hours were up. Of course, I had to promise to join AA (which was sort of silly since I was not an alcoholic...I just knew that the combo of pills and vodka would do the trick, eventually). I also had to attend counseling sessions with a local psychiatrist and psychologist. Bob started wearing his hearing aids (at least for awhile) and things became semi-normal or as normal as could be expected with our particular situation.
I am still with Bob and we have some major ups and downs. He is pretty controlling, as am I and that can lead to some pretty bizarre "war of the roses" arguments. I find it difficult to live with someone who is so different from me. His tastes in foods, movies, events, etc. are all so foreign to me. At times, I feel as if we are roommates instead of partners. I still have to yell when I want him to hear me which is inconvenient to say the least.
Now it is he who is having some personal problems and I am trying my damndest to stand beside him and with him through his ups and downs. We bought a house here in Brevard County, Fl. and we have friends...well, I do. (Why do men have so much trouble making and keeping friends??) Often, I will take off in my V.W. bug for a day just to shop or visit a buddy or to ride around, catch my breath and be alone. I walk the beach or nature trails, meditate, have lunch by myself. I think it is important for us as women to assert our independence in ways that may have been foreign to us before. It is now and forever the way we can keep the beat from dying.
Roseywriter123
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
March 4, 2013
Since I am a reporter and inquisitor of people's goings and comings I am hoping to turn this blog into an interesting variety of stories on other peoples lives.
Everyone has a story. Or two. Or two hundred.
I want to hear from people about how they have survived this life...has it been easy. Has it been difficult. Has it been hell in a handcart??
Life is different for all of us. My life has had so many ups and downs, I could have designed a billion dollar roller coaster around it. But not all of it is printable and not all of it is interesting. Bits and pieces are fascinating. Some of it is unbelievable (but true nonetheless). However, life is not all about me and I really, really want to write about you. People who have made it this far no matter what the circumstances.
The stories can be long or short...well, try to make them relatively concise so that people won't start yawning after the first page. Splurge with content but not with words, if you know what I mean. Radiate happiness, depression, sadness, loneliness, joy. Reach out to others who might be able to connect with your story and find a solution to their problem via your ideas, research etc.
For instance: I have Lupus and it is getting progressively worse. So I am always looking for people I can talk to about the disease and what helps them, what doesn't. How they handle the ups and downs of everyday living. I also am bi-polar and although I am taking medications, sometimes depression kicks me in the butt and throws me through the hemisphere and I am not sure I will make it back alive.
There are relationship issues in my life, always have been, always will be. Just my genetic make up I guess.
And what about you?? Are you in a relationship? Have you got physical or mental challenges that you need help with or that you can offer solutions for? Is your job about to make you pull your hair out? Are you bored to tears with everything in your life? In other words, what is going on with you???
I am trying to make my blog an open forum so that people don't have to seek psychiatric help...they can make friends here, air their problems or share their joys.
Looking forward to hearing from you...and you never, ever have to use your real name. Make up something that describes how you feel. Or how you don't feel. It doesn't matter. But your story, and your life, do.
Soulfully yours,
Rosemary Hoffman Lynn
