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Sunday, April 10, 2016

It's Not You, It's Me

Guess where I am?  Just guess - go ahead!! Guess! Guess! Guess!  Give up?  Ok then, I'll tell you. I have found myself smack-dab in the middle of perimenopause. Seriously.  Actually, it's more like the second phase of it.  I spent a lot of time on Sunday researching the symptoms, non-pharmaceutical therapies, and everything else I could find about the subject. There is an abundance of information out there and I am slowly trying to make my way through the weeds to find the answers to all of my questions.

One of the things that I've learned, is that every woman has their own menopause path to walk (or run down, while screaming hysterically and crying).  I have always known the age a woman begins perimenopause varies, some as young as their mid-thirties, others in their fifties, but I didn’t realize that the symptoms could also be so different.  It makes sense, though, and I feel silly for not realizing it.  Most women don’t have the same PMS symptoms, the same child birth stories, the same metabolism, so I’m not sure why I didn’t realize our perimenopause and menopause symptoms would also be different.

Over the past six months, as I have been slowly moving into this next phase of perimenopause, I have been surprised at some of the transformations in my personality. I’ve experienced my first panic attack (is there an award for that???), have battled with severe anxiety, cry often (and often for no reason), wake up frequently through the night, feel exhausted and overwhelmed, my migraines have increased, my skin is dry, I had a weird burnt tongue thing for a few days, and I have become anti-social.  ME!!!  Anti-social!!


SnapChat Filter - I wasn't actually crying


Did I mention crying?  I hate crying...


I have always been slightly socially awkward, but somehow I've managed to keep it hidden.  Suddenly finding myself with these anti-social tendencies has been rather bewildering to me and I don't know how to handle it. I am usually a good listener and someone who is easy to talk to, but that person seems to have disappeared.  Seriously, it's been so bad, that unless accidental eye contact has been made, I quickly turn and go the other way when I see people I know in public.  In fact, I don’t want to talk to anyone after work.  I dream of being able to go straight home after work and stay there, surrounded by my animals and spending time with my DH, but that won’t happen... At least not until DD gets her driver's license this fall.



One of the thoughts I had during my extensive "research-athon" yesterday, was if, possibly, some of what I've been feeling has been exasperated by the discovery  a few months ago that one my my "close" friends was not really a friend; but I don’t think that’s the case. Then I started to think that perhaps my lack of social desire could be due to work and how much I dislike my current situation there.  It's been so bad lately, that when I pull into the parking lot at work, I sit in my car, giving myself a pep talk just to get myself through the doors of the office.  No, that’s not a good thing and yes, I have several applications out there. But that's a blog for another time, and besides, I don't think  t's the cause of my newly found desire to live as a hermit. 



I know that hundreds of generations of women have survived this, most of them without medication, and I know I will survive “Mental”pause; I just hope my husband stays with me.  I’ve caught him looking at me, when I’m staring out the window.  This morning, I was crying as I was drinking my coffee.  Not loudly sobbing, no sounds escaping. - just silent tears, streaming down my cheeks.  He came over and kissed the top of my head, asking if I need anything.  No, I don’t need anything.  Well, actually I do need a few things, but nothing he can help me with.  A new job, a new house, warm weather, a week where I’m not running in a million different directions, new shoes because I only have three “nice” pairs that I wear to work, to lose fifty pounds, and a two week vacation to Hawaii.  Ok, ok, I really don’t “need” any of those things, but I would like to have them.


I already know that I am not going to take hormone replacement therapy (HRT) to take care of the side effects of menopause. It’s a matter of morals for me, and it’s a choice that I feel strongly about.  Big pharma does not care about the number of women who have developed breast cancer because of their hormone replacement “therapy” (my own mom included in that number), nor does it care about the thousands of PMU foals orphaned or slaughtered to create it. Please know, I will not judge anyone for doing what they need to do to get through this, but do yourself a favor and research the prescription your doctor hands you before you fill it. 

Since I know what I’m not going to do, do I know what I am going to do?  I know what I should do, but I don’t have an actual plan of action.  I should exercise (I love hiking & Zumba).  I should go to a yoga class, something I have read time and time again during my research.  I should take vitamins, minerals, and supplements, especially B complex, vitamin C, magnesium, and ashwagandha. I should find time once a week to do something I enjoy (**cough cough** horse back riding).  I should identify the biggest stressors in my life and either remove them or find ways to reduce them.  I should spend more time with my fur babies. I should work in the garden with DH.

Now that I have a list of remedies to start with, I also need to work on my gratitude.  I am grateful for that job I don't want to go to - REALLY!!! I am also grateful for my house, the car that I spend thousands of hours running DD around in, the shoes I do have, my health, my family, my animals, and my small circle of friends.  I am also thrilled that I don't have more severe symptoms, especially rage or non-stop periods.  My period has been irregular for several years now, only making an appearance three or four times a year, so that's something I am extremely grateful for.

So, have you been here?  Have you made it through this dark, irrational time? Did you find something that helped you through it? I know I’m not alone during this journey, even though I may feel like it at times.  We should start a local support group, but I probably wouldn't want to go.  :)
PS - If you see me in a store, and I am running the other way, just remember - it's not you, IT'S ME!  :)

Monday, February 29, 2016

The Loss of Our Brother...

Mental illness is a horrible, horrible burden for any family to bear.  I wish there was more discussion about mental illness rather than gun control, birth control, or any other political topic du jour, but there is still such a stigma attached to it, everyone is afraid to touch it, talk about it, or do anything about it.

I am the oldest of three children; however, my middle brother and I  "lost" our youngest brother a few years ago.  He is not dead, but he is definitely lost.



When he was our baby brother, many, many years ago, he was cute, funny, adorable, and so very lovable.  Middle brother and I both protected baby brother and loved him. According to my mother, when BB was a toddler, I would translate his baby talk for him. "He said he wants a peanut butter and jelly sandwich". I also have many memories of MB and BB running around our house in Norfolk, towels tied around their necks, fashioned into Superman capes or playing with their giant yellow Tonka trucks.

Of course, looking back on those days, there were signs that things were not right with BB.  He used to bang his head on the sidewalk or flail about on the ground and everyone dismissed it as temper tantrums. He was also what people called "Hyper Active", which in today's world he would have been diagnosed as ADHD.  My parents changed his diet, using the Feingold Diet principles of using only natural food without additives and eliminating other foods, such as those containing salicylates (apples, tomatoes, plums, berries, etc).  The diet change seemed to help BB's tantrums.

Everything seemed normal, until his late teenage years when he began walking into walls - literally.  After numerous appointments with military doctors who always wrote off BB's headaches as sinus or allergy problems, my parents finally found a civilian doctor who ran a multitude of tests on BB, including CAT scans and MRI's, and was able to provide them with answers.  BB was diagnosed with a medical condition called Hydrocephalus.  In simple, layman terms, Hydrocephalus is caused when too much fluid accumulates in the brain and cannot drain on its own, causing pressure on the brain and the head to become enlarged.  Typically, this disease is found in infants or older adults.  My brother was a teenager when he was finally diagnosed with it. Surgery was scheduled and a shunt was installed, which relieved the pressure and allowed the fluid to drain into his stomach.


I believe the first time BB's shunt failed was within just a couple of months from when it was first implanted in his brain.  In fact, within those first couple of years, the shunt failed several times leaving him in a comatose state a couple of times, and clinically dead on the table once.  I believe the MedStar unit got to know his name pretty quickly. With each surgery, each coma, each swelling of his brain, his personality began to change.  It may be purely coincidental.  He may have developed  BiPolar Disorder and it was masked by the complications of the surgeries, or he may have developed the disorder as a result of the complications of the surgeries; I believe that is something we will never know.

Eight years ago, BB got married and he and his wife had a beautiful baby girl a few months later.  Our entire family was ecstatic for him.  With all of his medical problems, we had been worried about his future.  Unfortunately, our elation for him faded as he and his wife made poor decision after poor decision and ultimately began using drugs, often in front of their children.

Two years ago, when I was visiting my mother as she recovered from a mastectomy, I saw first-hand just how out-of-control BB and his wife were.  There were times when I would look out the window and see BB's wife walking up and down the driveway, throwing her arms in the air yelling at her unseen demons.  Strangers were often at the house, more than likely with drugs. BB and his wife were hoarders of the worst kind.  There was dog, cat, and mouse excrement in all of the rooms, on the furniture, in the children's beds, and on their clothes.  There were bags of trash strewn throughout the house.  The kitchen was full of open cans of food, dishes used as ashtrays, prescription pill bottles within reach of the children, fly strips full of flies.  Basically, not a good place for the children - or
anyone for that matter.


It was during that trip to my parents when I decided to approach BB and SIL, asking if we could take care of the girls while they straightened themselves out. MB came with me, and I'm glad he did because when BB looked at me, I could feel the hate toward me radiating from his body.  That was the first time I was ever terrified to be around BB.  Surprisingly, BB and SIL agreed and promised they would go to rehab.  While the girls lived with us, they told us about "Mommy and daddy using dollars to put medicine in their nose".

Not surprisingly, the promise was short-lived and the battle for custody over their daughters ensued, albeit a very brief battle that we lost.

They left a dead ferret in the house, and left the live one to fend for itself.
BB and SIL packed up, left a dead ferret and one live ferret in the house, took the girls, and fled to Florida.  While in Florida, they were evicted from two different apartment complexes and picked up additional police charges (there is still an open warrant for BB there).  After they had no other options in Florida, they fled to Louisiana to live with SIL's mother.  Last fall, SIL was arrested and jailed for Possession of a Controlled Dangerous Substance, Theft, and Monetary Instrument Abuse and BB was charged with Contempt of Court with no bond (not sure what he did).  SIL was released on February 12th, and BB was released on February 16th.  Again, thank you to the states that allow this to be easily accessible public information!!

This afternoon, BB called me for the first time since we tried to take custody of his daughters in 2013.  I did not recognize the number, so I answered the phone when it rang.  I had to say "Hello?" into the phone a couple of times before I finally heard a man loudly sobbing. I knew who it was, and my entire body tensed up. When BB finally collected himself enough to start talking, it was unintelligible at first, and then he managed to form actual words.

The conversation was very one-sided.  BB was talking in a very manic manner, getting lost in his own stories, repeating stories but changing them slightly, and lying (always lying).  I listened.  It was difficult.  It was more than difficult; it was heartbreaking.  My heart hurt.  I had a lump in my throat, but I kept the tears in check.  I tried to gently remind him about what he said to our mother three years ago - "I hope that cancer kills you".  He immediately started ranting about how much she hated him.  Then he tried to say that none of us helped him, and I reminded him that we tried.  We tried to help by giving the girls a safe place to live while they cleaned up and got off the drugs.  More ranting.

He finally realized that I wasn't going to offer him money or a place to live, so he hung up.  The pain associated with hearing him sobbing on the phone, coupled with the knowledge that most everything that comes out of his mouth is a lie, was unbearable. Not being able to tell BB that I loved him was also heartbreaking.  Big tears fell, friends.  Big tears and shoulder-heaving sobs. I was texting MB while listening to BB, which helped me handle the phone call.  I called MB later that night and still had tears in my eyes as we discussed the entire situation.  Thank God MB and I have each other to talk to about this.


There is no help for those who refuse to help themselves.  You cannot convince me otherwise. We tried to save them and could not.  The health and judicial systems in place have ensured that people like my brother and sister-in-law have more rights than the people who try to help them.  In fact, they have more rights than their own children who have to live in the craziness of their parent's drug addiction and mental health problems day-in and day-out.

At this point, I'm sure our poor father will continue to hear from BB and SIL (and her mother) whenever they need money. I hate the stress it is putting on him.  All we can do is pray that our nieces are safe and protected from the insanity they are living in. 





Sunday, February 28, 2016

Fat Momma and Horse Dreams


Two weeks ago, we finally started the lease on a horse named Anton.  Of course, when I came home and told my husband (DH) we were doing a half-lease on a horse, he immediately asked "Which half? I don't think we should pay full price if we get the ass end."  Talk about laughing out loud!  Oh how I love him and his crazy, sarcastic sense of humor.

Anton is a seasoned warmblood who, according to Emma's riding instructor, loves Dressage.  By seasoned, I mean that Anton is a 24 year old gelding who has apparently seen quite a few dressage tests in his time.  Of course, you cannot tell that he is an older guy when riding him - well, I can't tell when I watch Emma ride him.  Emma has been riding him for several months now, and I am looking forward to being able to ride him soon.  I hope.  Fingers crossed.  Prayers being said.  Trying to sound positive when I say that I will be able to ride him soon.

Why am I putting off doing something I so desperately want to do?  Fear.  Not the type of fear you are probably thinking about.  I am not afraid of falling off (had lots of practice at that when I was a younger rider) and I am not afraid of riding in general.  I am afraid that I am too heavy to ride.  I am afraid of how difficult it will be to mount the horse.  I am afraid about the things people will say when they see me on a horse.  I am afraid that my large butt will not fit in a regular saddle.

These may seem like irrational concerns, but they are real enough to keep me from taking that next step of actually riding.  I want to ride so much, I think about it several times a day.  Seriously!  When I go to the barn with Emma, I want to ride with her, not just watch from the other side of the ring.


In addition to my fears, there are so many "horse" things that I feel I need to relearn.  There was a point in time when I could answer just about every horse question thrown at me; breeds, riding styles, health, feeding, and so on.  I can remember going to the Maryland State 4-H Horse Bowl when I was a young teen.  The Horse Bowl is like a combination of That's Academic and Jeopardy - at least that's what it was like in the early to mid 80-s.  I still have one of the books I used as a study-guide with lot
s of notes scribbled in it.  I was also that kid who cantered everywhere, "played horse" all the time, and read all of the horsey books I could get my hands on.  I used to think it was so cool that I shared the same first name as Marguerite Henry, author of horse books such as Misty of Chincoteague and King of the Wind.



(Picture source https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?curid=36625166)  

Back then, I believed with every fiber of my being that horses would always be a part of my life. Here I am, a couple of decades later, and I need horses back in my life. I need that gentleness, trust, companionship, and unconditional love.  I'm not sure when I will ever work up the nerve to get on Anton, or any other horse for that matter... I just hope it happens soon.




Monday, January 25, 2016

My Life as Described by a Purse



We all have that one drawer, filled to capacity with all of the odds and ends you cannot find a home for in the kitchen.  I actually have a few of those catch-all drawers in various rooms of my house, and every time I open one and root through it looking for something, I vow that I will come back and clean it out; but alas, that never happens.

The "coat" closet in the front of our home is also a giant catch-all drawer of sorts.  It has raincoats and winter jackets, scarves, hats, gloves, shoes, book bags, string bags, 15 reusable grocery bags (so I have a little thing for shopping bags), swim caps, goggles, girl scout patches, yoga mat, old curtains, dog leashes, and so on and so on.  After logging off from work today, I decided this would be the perfect opportunity to purge that closet.  Due to the insane amount of snowfall this past weekend, we were still stranded in the house, so I had nowhere to go and nothing else to do.  Perfect!

 

After pulling everything except the jackets and coats out of the closet, I was immediately overwhelmed.  Honestly, I wanted to shove it all back into the closet, shut the door and walk away, but I was determined to finish at least one project during the aftermath of the Blizzard of 2016. I threw away old purses, lots of papers and receipts, found missing earings, filled a bag with scarves and hats to donate, and found a home for everything.  I stood in front of the closet, hands on my hips, feeling outrageously successful, until I saw something hanging in the back of the closet, hidden from sight by a jacket.  I reached in, grabbing the leather strap, curiously pulling it out of the closet, finding that it belonged one of my favorite old purses.

I do not own very many purses.  When I buy one, I tend to use it until it falls apart.  This purse is one that I would use forever if I could.  There is nothing special about it and, truth be told, it's very plain.  I opened it to discover that it was still full of "stuff".  Not just stuff, but pieces of my life that were sort of preserved in this purse.  I slowly began to empty the contents onto the table and ended up sitting down to go through it all.

There were plenty of items that I threw away, like old chap-sticks, Splenda packets, a couple of pieces of Dentyne gum, expired allergy medicine, old cough drops, and a migraine pill (SCORE!!); however, the rest was like finding a treasure trove of memories.  Each time my husband heard me say "Oh wow" or "Look at this", he would ask if I found gold doubloons.

There were coins from a trip to Panama for work and a handmade key chain I purchased from a local market while there.  Although I did not get much of an opportunity to site see in that beautiful country, I was able to catch a ride to the Panama Canal and watch a ship go through. Receipts from a Bonefish Grill restaurant in Independence, Ohio, and one from a sushi restaurant in San Francisco, both work sponsored travel and both were trips spent with a co-worker whose company I truly enjoyed.

 

There were three tickets from a West Virginia University (WVU) Football game my husband and our daughter attended, as well as a WVU Parents Club pin.  We're not really football fans, but our son was in the WVU Marching Band and it was the only way we ever got to see him perform at college.  Also found in this sweet time capsule were USA Swimming Disqualification Forms.  I was a Swim Official for our summer swim team as well as for the high school swim team.   I hurt my back this year and was unable to be an official, so it was sweet to have that memory.  I'm still not sure why I had those forms in my purse, but I was glad to see them.
 

There were ID cards for the American Red Cross (A Positive) and Be The Match bone marrow donor.  As much as I'd love to be a regular blood donor, I cannot since my iron is usually too low.  I'd love to be able to help someone with the Be The Match program, but I do not believe that will ever happen.  I think of those cards as good visual reminders to always try to help people.  Always.  In little ways, big ways, unseen ways. I've kind of lost sight of that lately, so what a better way for the universe to throw it back in my face!

Last, there was a small flier for Master Gardener training. I did not go, probably because I was over-committed and did not have time.  Gardening is something that my husband loves to do, and he is good at it.  I also enjoy working in the garden, but I'm not nearly as gifted in the green thumb category as he is. I wanted to take the class so I could help him more than I do in our large garden. I have come to realize that working in the garden is my husband's Zen place.  It's where he loves to spend his afternoons and weekends when the weather is warm enough.  I don't need to take a gardening class; he appreciates the little ways I do help in the garden.

I am so thankful I cleaned out that catch-all closet today.  That plain purse is quite an accurate representation of my life over the past few years, and it has allowed me to reflect on my life in a very positive way.  I am humbled and grateful for what I have, which is worth so much more than anything gold doubloons could buy.

Thursday, January 07, 2016

Broke Back Mimzy

Tomorrow will be three weeks since my back surgery.  While I cannot believe how quickly those three weeks have swiftly passed by, I also feel like it is taking forever until I am completely healed.  I really hadn't had too much pain after the surgery.  It hurt getting in and out of bed, laying on my back (not possible for two weeks), and no matter how or where I sat, I couldn't get comfortable.  Silly me, I thought my two weeks of sick leave would be "relaxing" - just the time off I had been hoping for and needed.  It never occurred to me that I would be uncomfortable to sit, which meant I was too uncomfortable to read, color, crochet, or even write.

In typical "Schuyler" fashion (Schuyler is my maiden name and we are notorious for trying to do too much too quickly), I did too much too quickly.  I drove Emma to all of her appointments and lessons, squatted dozens of times each day, and a number of other similar tasks I shouldn't have been doing.  After walking around the gym yesterday, while Emma swam a few laps, I came home, sat one the couch, and immediately felt exhausted and sore.  Laying down on the couch, I closed my eyes and actually listened to what my body was saying.  It was hurting and I was ignoring it (Schuyler'd it again, as DH would say).  My back is still swollen where the 3-4 inch incision is healing, I am sore, I have a very slight bit of pain coming back.

As I laid on the couch, all four of my animals surrounded me; the three 4 paws on the couch with me and my tri-paw on the floor.  Ok, the two cats were actually laying ON me, but cats do whatever they want, right?  I truly believe that animals know when part of their pack is hurting, so I must really have been hurting.  Although I had not been using the prescription pain meds often since the surgery, I took one Percocet and one Valium.  Then, I proceeded to get feel loopy, tired, better, and a little sad.

When I woke up this morning, my body felt a little better, but my mood was not.  It is difficult to slow down.  It is difficult to refrain from bending over to pick up something DH or DD dropped and left on the floor.  It is difficult looking at the two full laundry baskets of clothes, wanting desperately to take them upstairs but knowing that I cannot.  It is difficult intentionally walking slowly, especially when DH used to refer to me as General Patton whenever we walked anywhere.  All of this has made me sad.  Weepy sad.  Like, I have been crying while looking at old pictures, tv commercials, and I was a sloppy sobby mess when I watched Jane Austen's Emma tonight.  Seriously?  I have read that book and watched multiple versions of the movie dozens of times....and I have never cried.

Today, a very sweet and extremely intelligent friend told me that I need to lower my expectations, slow down, and let my body heal.  She's been through the same surgery, so she knows first hand.  I know that soon enough, I will be driving back to the office every day, complaining about having to go there, but at least I will be able to (hopefully) walk quickly from the parking lot to my desk.  In the meantime, I will learn how to relax enough to watch movies, remember to stand up and walk around every 60 minutes, and I will try-try-TRY to convince myself that it really is OK to do absolutely nothing for a couple more weeks. 


Sunday, January 03, 2016

Chapter 13 Bankruptcy

In keeping with my need to write, here is the second post of the year!  Woohoo!    This is very personal, and possibly more information than any of you ever wanted to know. 

Bankruptcy.  That’s something that happens to other people, and definitely not something you ever expect to happen to “you”.  In fact, the word itself conjures up images of people who are extremely irresponsible, people who have bought the best of everything and drive expensive cars, and people who try their best to keep up with the Smiths.  That’s the typical stereotype, right?  At least, that’s what most people think, until they meet “normal” people who are going through Bankruptcy.

Our story started well over a decade before we even stepped foot into the courtroom to file for bankruptcy.  I can remember years ago, back when DH and I worked in Frederick, he always took care of the finances and I would always ask him (beg him) to take some time to go over them with me.  He would always say that we'd go over it "this weekend"and assure me that everything was fine, but it would never happen.  I let this continuous loop run for far too long.

I’m not sure why I finally decided to run a credit check on both of us, other than I was tired of being kept in the dark about everything.  I was on break at work when I finally decided to check, and I’m pretty sure my co-workers remember that day just about as well as I do.  I was shocked when I saw the numbers.  So much so, that I sobbed out loud and then I called my husband.  I asked him “HOW?”  “WHY?” Then I yelled into the phone words which I had never said to him in our almost twenty years of marriage, “I HATE YOU!”

I could not believe the amount we were in debt.  I also couldn’t understand how it happened.  I never went shopping for clothes or shoes, I didn’t have a hobby, and I didn’t even buy music.  HOW DID THIS HAPPEN????  My head was spinning, I was a blubbering mess, so I took sick leave for the rest of the day and went home.  I think Frank left work early to meet me, which ended up being about the same time our son got home from school.  Poor kid had never heard us fight before that day.  In fact, as I yelled at DH, our son ran upstairs and locked himself in his room.

Within two hours of coming home that day, I went into “Save My Family” mode.  I found a legitimate program that offered services to assist people with debt management (Money Management International (MMI) http://www.moneymanagement.org/).  The counselor I talked to was very frank and upfront, indicating that we may end up having to file for bankruptcy; however, when I set my mind to something, I usually go full speed ahead.

I pulled as much money out of my 401(k) as I could to get us through for a little while, as our debt management program started.  I called all of the credit card companies, asking them to please work with me and accept smaller payments.  MOST of the credit card companies were willing to work with me.  I was adamant that we were going to pay back every single cent of the debt that was in our name.  I tried.  I tried so hard to make it work.  I even swallowed my pride and bought weekly groceries from Angel Food Ministries.  Talk about a change!  Going from organic groceries to, well, food just meant to provide nourishment to my family was a shock to say the least. I managed to make the required payments through MMI, but when I ended up with $40.00 to cover groceries and gas for two weeks, I knew I had to make a tough decision – bankruptcy.  

The first lawyer we met with was worthless.  As soon as I can find the paperwork from that company, I’ll post the name of that lawyer.  She basically told me to stop making payments on our house.  Uh… what???  Oh hell no!!  I was trying to do the RIGHT thing.  When we left her office, I felt confused and defeated.  I did a little more research and found an extremely reputable lawyer whose focus was on bankruptcy and actually HELPING people.  His name is Aaron Amore in Charles Town.  Before meeting with him, I bought a Bankruptcy for Dummies book (laugh, but it was extremely informative).  When we met with Amore, we had an idea of what to expect, but he explained everything even further.

Prior to our experience, I always thought “Bankruptcy” meant that all of your debt was wiped clean and you started fresh.  Talk about a wake-up call!  For “regular” people, there are actually two types of bankruptcy; Chapter 7 and Chapter 13, and who files for which one depends on salary and assets. Chapter 7 is a liquidation bankruptcy, and Chapter 13 is a reorganization bankruptcy.  We “qualified” for Chapter 13 bankruptcy, which meant we had to pay our debt back.  On top of our mortgage payment, our home equity loan payment, and our car payment, we also had to pay $2600 each month to a bankruptcy trustee for five years.  As soon as we started working with Amore, the creditors stopped calling and I felt like I could breathe again.  Financially, things were tight but we were managing.

For the better part of a year, I maintained a coolness with my DH.  I no longer thought of us as a married couple; rather, we were just people sharing a house.  If we could have afforded it, I would have asked him to leave.  I didn’t hide the way I felt, and he was painfully aware of it.  The difference, though, between DH and most people in this situation, is that he changed.  He truly took responsibility for his actions and changed.  He took a second job at WalMart to help make ends meet before our bankruptcy, he only used whatever cash I gave him on a weekly basis, and he finally started to view me with respect.

Many people have asked what he spent our money on, expecting something juicy or exciting.  Truthfully, DH just got caught up in credit cards.  He did buy himself whatever he wanted.  Usually, it was music, baseball items, baseball gear for our son (i.e. $500 bats), etc.  Much of my resentment toward my DH during this time, was based on the fact that I never spent money on myself prior to the bankruptcy and he had no problem spending money on himself.  It took a while for me to get over that, but I think I finally have.  :)
 
About a year and half after all of this transpired, I realized my animosity was starting to make me a very bitter, angry person.  I was miserable and tired of working on auto-pilot at home.  I realized that I had to forgive DH, and I also had to admit that I should have taken action long before I did.  We worked on our marriage and started “dating” each other.  I think falling in love the second time was even better than the first time.  He’s still not a dancer and he is still an extreme introvert, and I’m still not a baseball fanatic nor a fan of staying at home all the time, but we are good together and make a good team.  The odds of couples staying together during a bankruptcy is not very good, so I’m proud of us.

Our last bankruptcy payment was on August 28th and we were formally discharged from our Chapter 13 in November.  When I received my official notice (every single piece of correspondence was sent in duplicate; one to DH, and one to me), I cried as I read the letter.  The Trustee congratulated us on successfully completing our plan.  Of course, being the nerd that I am I had to research the percentage of successful Chapter 13 bankruptcies and I discovered the average is only 33%.  33%!!!! Yikes!!! We really were successful.  We saved our marriage and paid our debt.  I am still slowly catching up on my 401(k), I still cringe (even though I shouldn’t) whenever the phone rings and I don’t recognize the number, and I still cannot get a loan for the car of my dreams (although I was able to buy our son a "new" car), but things are going pretty good for us right now.

Although I have never hid the fact that we were going through financial hardship, I never asked for help from anyone or from any of the organizations my children were involved with.  I always paid whatever band, baseball, swim, soccer, scholastic fees we came across by scraping all of our funds together and going without lots of other "things".

Of course, this is a very condensed version of our bankruptcy story.  I would like to write something more in depth and detailed in the future.  I hope that in sharing our story, I can help at least one other person. For those who may be caught up in a financial nightmare, please know that  Bankruptcy is not an instantaneous end to your problems.  It is difficult, but if you are dedicated and committed to fixing your problems, bankruptcy can help you recover.  I would also suggest a couple of really, really good friends who will listen, offer their shoulder for good cries, and walk when you need to walk.  

*****If you live in WV and would like to seek legal counseling for bankruptcy, I highly suggest Aaron Amore (http://www.amorelaw.com/).   As an FYI - I was not compensated in any way whatsoever for recommending Mr. Amore. I wrote this because I wanted to share my own personal experience.

Friday, January 01, 2016

Happy New Year 2016

As far as I'm concerned, 2016 is off to a fantastic start. My brother, sister-in-law, and nephews came up for the day and celebrated the new year with us. I can't express just how thankful we were to have their company today, but when you don't live near family, visits like this are extra special, especially when our busy lives make visits few and far between.  I wish we were able to get pictures, but we were so focused on enjoying each other's company, I don't think any of us thought about it.  

Derek has sent me a few pictures of his trip to Arizona with the WVU marching band. It looks like he's having a fantastic time, and he even went on a trail ride!  One of the texts I got from him said "I kept my heels down!" I guess he remembers quite a few things from those riding lessons all those years ago.

This year, I do not plan on making resolutions, just goals and aspirations. As of this moment, my primary goal is to focus on my health and fitness. I'm fat (it's ok to say the "f" word), but worse than that is how out of shape I've become. I want to fix that. I want to wake up feeling energized instead of dreading the day ahead of me. Losing weight is NOT my goal, but I won't object to losing some poundage as I work on my fitness, strength, and flexibility. 

This will be the year of the horse for me. I'm so excited at the prospect of riding again that I can hardly stand the waiting process. I'm all set to begin leasing a very sweet older guy on February first. It's Anton, the horse who Emma rides every week. I probably won't start riding for a while yet, but just being able to go brush him whenever I want is a fabulous "something" to look forward to. 

I am going to write this year. I don't care if it's one of those "daily writing prompts" sites, I just need to write.  Why? I need to write because I like to write. Actually, I should probably sign up for a creative writing class at Shepherd. 

Believe it or not, we also plan to expand our garden again. Being able to walk into our back yard and pick whatever vegetables we want for dinner is such a delight! Hopefully the garden does better this year…🙏

I hope this year brings peace to our home and our lives.  We already have the love, ❤️ now we need to focus on putting ourselves first and jobs LAST.  I am so very grateful for both the tangibles and intangibles in my life. I have a job that pays the bills and allows me to travel, I have a best friend who loves me enough to stop in and check on me after surgery, I have a husband who is the love of my life and makes me laugh every day (even though our interests are WAY different), my children have beautiful, kind, and loving hearts, and I am appreciative beyond words for the love we share.  

Take time to enjoy the company of your family and friends. Be kind with your words and give freely of your love. Love is a much more precious gift than anything you could ever find under the Christmas tree or in a store.  

xoxo