Michael

I am saddened by the death of Michael Jackson. I am a fan. I feel the swirl of frenzy that surrounds him -- that even in death he is not given perhaps the respect that he deserves. I know of the bad things the have seemed to drape him like a cape in the last few years. I wasn't there, so I can't claim to say one way or the other what he did in his private life.

However, I can choose to believe that he was one of the most fascinating performers in my lifetime. I believe he was a musical genius. He was music -- in his words, in his dance, in all that surrounded him. He was that puff of something that inspired us to sing and dance and create music. I love his music. I love the way he moved. I loved him. He has been a part of my life. I can remember my Michael Jackson moments -- listening to his music throughout my life. Seeing dance students perform his dance routines. I will miss his inspiration. I will miss the force that was Michael Jackson. I hope he finds the peace and happiness that he always seemed to be searching for when he was with us.

July 4, 2009

Patriotism to one's country -- isn't that what is supposed to be the prevailing mood today? Not in my house. In my house, we are still reeling from the addition of 15 year old Ashton -- a child fathered by Mark during his wild oat-sowing San Antonio years. We claim him; we love him. We ache for the years that we were not involved with him, but, at the same time, give praise to his San Antonio parents who have kept him on a straight and narrow path.

Our San Antonio children, Alicia and Trevor, have had the great fortune of meeting Ashton as well as his family. They have been made to feel warm and welcome. It is a great ride that we are on as a family. We welcome our new addition with open arms and open hearts, and praise his San Antonio parents for being so open and loving.

Welcome to our family -- Ashton.

Ashton

I found out a few days ago that there is another child in our family. Ashton is 15 -- and was just told that his biological father is Mark. There is no doubt in my mind that he is Mark's child.

I have been communicating with Ashton since that time. He is a charming and handsome young man. I was initially a bit shaken, but not any more. I am just glad to have him in our family.

I think it took a lot for his parents to have the courage to tell him. I don't know what I would do in that same situation. At any rate, I am glad to have him and look forward to getting to meet him in person and to get to know him better.

Thoughts for Tuesday

I am wondering -- how many others out there spend time ruminating about times past and friendships gone by the wayside. I am heavily a facebook fanatic -- approaching the need for a 12 step program! I have connected with others in a way I thought not possible, have been able to renew acquaintances, and even made some new friends, At the same time, I think about how I could be in a better place right now if I hadn't given up the chances that slipped so easily through my fingers.

But each day is a new chance, but I don't seem able to get past the cloud that I am under. I am having a problem putting all of the baggage behind me. Perhaps that is the wrong thing. Perhaps the problem is not putting things behind me, but looking only at today and what I can accomplish on this day. Shaking loose the baggage that often seems to swell over me is difficult, as is facing each new day as an opportunity to use. Lesson : more opportunity - old baggage = unending possibilities.

In my head

I find that I am having some difficulty sleeping tonight. I am frightened. Tomorrow I am having an MRI done of my brain. It is the second time I have had this done, but the first time in a closed bed. In additioin, I hav having this prcedure done, plus two others (to be done on the 19th)because my doctors believe that I have impaired cognitive functio. That may be true -- and what I am really afraid of is that they will discover a irreversible and progressive problem -- like ALzheimer's disease.

There I said it. In black and white, I have admitted my greatest fear. My rheumatalogist believes tha I haver significan't enough issues to warrant a referral to a neurologist and she, in tuirn, believes their is enough question to complete a battery of tests. And I am frightened.

My husband is running scared. We have had huge blow out fights -- rare in our union. They are scarey to be in the middle of. In my house, everyone is walking around on tippy toes. I pull my fear in close and wrap it tightly around me, as if it will offer some sort of protection. I try to avoid words like progressive and degenerative. I try t9o bury myyself, but the only things I have are my children -- God,, I have to keep them close now, and my worst enemy right now -- food. My children are facing adult decisions as they try to pretect and comfort me from the not-so-hidden heated words that pass between my husband and me.

The previous calmness of my house has become a war zone filled with frustration and dread. Medications cause my weight to balloon -- 50 pounds in two months. I feel as though if I am pierced with a pin, I will explode into slimy oozy gobs.

Medical bills continue to soar. Don't know about payment, because everything goes to only the most basic items. There is talk of discontinuing phones, and satellite television. The children have long since given up allowances and the random treat. Things like feeding our pets become issues that I thought ...

In the meantime, I sit at my computer at 3 something, pouring out more of my story to a mostly unread and passed over blog. Just putting felling down in words will have to suffice. The vastness of cyberspace precludes a large followership. I suppose it is OK -- like so many other things that just have to be what they are, I wrap myself in my blanket of fear and sit -- as usual, alone.

Life with Fibromyalgia

Good golly I could use a break. Mark came home so angry last night -- it was 100% directed at me. Even though he apologized, his sharp words still hurt. I just can't handle being treated like that. I discovered that being so upset only causes my fibro to flare.

I am a mess today. I feel awful that my boys have been brought into this mess, but I do feel that my boys have a better understanding of what is going on with me than Mark does. Jacob says he thinks I need to go to the hospital so I can get control of all that is going on. I don't think so, but I do wish there was some measure of how I feel so that Mark could better understand. Patrick said he would fight his dad if he doesn't stop. Hard words coming from a boy that loves his dad more than anything. It is just a reflection of the tension in the house. They have both called their dad today to try to make him understand. It didn't help though -- Mark just called and fussed at me more.

I am trying -- I really don't understand where the anger comes from. He makes me feel as though I am doing this on purpose -- with purpose to destroy our family. I am not. If I could change things, I would. I am so unhappy. I do want to make a distinction that I am not depressed -- that is the only thing that seems to be going well, I was fine until I got pushed off the ledge I was sitting on.

life

Life with fibromyalgia is difficult. I know I have beat that horse several times. However, what is often unmentioned is that those around us do not understand. It is frustrating to live under this veil all of the time.