realizing...

I have always been told that I look very young. Being asian/pacific islander, that is to be expected. After my grandma had passed away, my grandma's aunt died soon after. I was thinking to myself: "I'm getting old." My daughter and I had to travel to California for the funeral. My daughter and I were travelling alone. It is strange that I remember this...we are at the airport, going through security...unloading all of our stuff, medicines, belts, shoes, etc. It was just a last minute - weekend sort of trip, under duress [the loss of my aunt and the sadness she had right before she passed], after work, kind of late at night on a Friday no less. The security guard helps us load our stuff into a plastic bin, tries to be friendly and I literally snapped. After passing through and going to the gate, my daughter tells me how rude I was to the kind man. I don't really remember the details...but she said that he asked us where we were going, something about hope you have two sisters have good time and I blurted out...something to the effect that I am going to my aunt's funeral...As you can tell, I was quite pleasant. The thought that my daughter and I were sisters?? Pissed me off BIG time. I couldn't relate. But as I look back, that was when I finally realized that my daughter had grown up. Of course, in my eyes, she will always be the little, shy girl, barely making a noise. My daughter did a lot of growing that year. When we had news that my grandma passed away, I called in sick and took my daughter with me to go to the funeral home. My daughter had always been somewhat close to grandma, calling her "grandmama" - I guess I didn't realize much, but my daughter accompanied me to view my grandmother's body. I would have never thought she would go in with me...we literally were right next to grandma as I viewed her. I remember touching the blanket that was on grandma, she was just on a table in a room. Three months later, my daughter accompanies me again - to view my aunt, in her casket, a few days after she had passed. My aunt didn't even look like herself, she was swollen, bloated looking. Three months earlier, at my grandma's memorial, my aunt was all smiles and didn't even look tired. My aunt and grandma were close, they were cousins, whom spent a lot of time together, throughout the years. My daughter showed me her strength and courage. Which encourages me in my daily battles, such a blessing. I love her.

left overs

There are always left overs. It is more common these days. Sometimes I feel like I was a left over. You know how enticing I am? That's how it feels. [Literally].

One of my fears...maybe a long time ago I posted something about my past. But as a young child, my mother, was never a "maternal" mother. It's like she had me and that was it. I find out several years later that it was a last attempt to keep her marriage together. I spent a lot of my adolescent years with other family members, being switched from home to home, never really knowing my parents. Never really growing any roots, my feeling of abandonment came at a very young age. I was living with my paternal grandparents from the ages of 2 to 7. My mother says that she didn't want to upset me much, so she didn't call or visit. My father has always been MIA. He would come when he felt like it, with all his other children and maybe take us out for breakfast or lunch as a treat and then drop us all off. My other aunts and uncles would try to take me for visits and sometimes they would even forget me. Apparently, I get forgotten quite a bit. Can you see the pattern?

confusion...emotions?

I came home...from my aunt's house. My daughter and I had dinner there. It was total chaos when I got home and my husband was upset at my daughter because she had done her chores incorrectly. I get a call from one of my closest friends, asking me details about my childhood. Darn, if I could even remember details of this morning, that would be amazing. Apparently, I might have found the other half of my family. I was filled witih many emotions. I first sent an email and a scanned picture from my wedding almost 14 years ago. I'm ot sure what I would ask...but it would be especially important to get my health history and find out if anyone in their family has had lupus. I would be able to have some closure on that chapter of my life.

dimentia

I have a family history of dimentia. My maternal grandmother suffered from it, but lived a long lengthy life until her mid 90's. She passed away in August of 2006. I wonder if dimentia is hereditary? I guess you can catch anything these days from the water we drink to the food we eat, someone always has a comment. I am 31 years old and I feel like I am 80. I can remember some things, but in the blink of an eye...it is forgotten, almost like the wind, gusting through. I have random thoughts all the time. It could be something I just remembered to do or merely a weird fact. Sometimes I laugh at myself when I catch myself thinking of it. I just talked to my aunt. She is the youngest of my mother's sisters -- she thought she had to pick up my daughter from school to take her to lacrosse. I sent her an email stating: can I come over while [my daughter] is at lacrosse? I don't even begin to know how she got picking her up for a game? My evenings are kind of the same thing...come and go. I may wake up, I may just sleep like the dead. Other times...I sleepwalk and do things...which upset my entire family. But actually, my daughter says I am much better at waxing her in my sleep! I guess realistically, I just hope I don't get to inherit this...since I am already confused. I can't imagine myself at that age...knowing what the hell I am doing?

Humane Society...Volunteer?

My daughter loves animals. I always try to encourage giving back to the community. As you already know...we feed the local homeless shelter, but only once a month. We had attended orientation for the local humane society. Saturday, March 15, we had an interview scheduled. For now, she is scheduled to become a kennel assistant. My daughter is 13 years old. She decided on her own that she wanted to do this. This is a huge commitment, not only for her, but for me. Because she is under-age, I have to be with her at all times when she is volunteering at the humane society, in any capacity. This means we signed on for six months, two hours per week. With everything else that is going on in our lives...who knew we could do so much for our community? Here I am, partially incapacitated, generally - my daughter takes care of me, especially when I get confused later in the day. Sometimes she can be so mature and other times, she is just a girl, a teenage one at that.

the teacup

I am like the tea bag, that slowly emits my emotions, but if the tea bag tears or breaks -- I explode. I obviously survived my down day. I took a little too much xanex or something...and I was so emotional. I barely remember the day. My errands were given to "daddy" - ha, I'm like get over yourself...this is my everyday!
Last night, I was on the phone with a prospective clarinet teacher for my daughter. My daughter has decided to quit band when she starts high school. She has been playing the clarinet now for at least three years and has had both band and private lessons for these past years. Also, she has played the violin, suzuki method and the traditional method, but we learned [a little too late] that the traditional method was best. 1/24th of a size! It was tiny, like a doll's little accessory. Okay, back to my little story. I am not sure what I was looking for...but I asked the general questions. She happens to know her [my daughter's past instructors], she didn't have much to say about them. I guess we live in a somewhat small community and it wouldn't take much to bring down a person and find out who said it. I believe that having music in a child's life, helps them organize their time, using both parts of their brains [my own thoughts...]. I know everyone has different thoughts as to what is best for their child.
Did I say...I found her past instructor, who taught her privately for about two years. His lessons were long and drawn out...but he really broke it down to her and gave her the history of it. He gave her -- ugh [metronome], his first to ever use. He was always so caring and able to help her, even when she was very shy. I had to sit through those lessons. Even when I had experienced kidney failure, I continued to go to these lessons, even if it meant someone had to drive both of us. That was when she was doing both violin and clarinet lessons, every week, with an activity.
Now everyone always says/posts/writes: that we overburden our children. I think there is truth to that. We want to give our kids every opportunity out there and if they choose to continue [or if you choose it for them] that they can derive whatever is needed, no matter what it takes out of you and your life. That has always been my husband's ultimate promise to me. To give our daughter everything that we never had, the attention, the details, etc. Which is encumbant of my everday life now. I did all the volunteer things, up until she said "mom, you don't need to do this anymore, i'm okay." Recently, I don't know if I had posted this prior...but her language arts teacher asked if I would come in and volunteer my time. I said I would try...being that it is my daughter's eigth grade, last year in middle school. I work full time about 20 minutes away. I have taken lots of time off because of my lupus and I think that I should be able to squeeze in time for my daughter's teacher. I am very young. I learn everyday, something, if anything -- new. I have an attorney that I work with...I call him Mr. Know-it-all. I am always trying to figure out what my brain is thinking, but it never comes out. I guess with all the drugs I am on, what am I to expect??

meltdown...

I have always been very strong willed. I always promised myself that I would never let this disease take the better side of me. But what can I really control? I have been under aggressive therapy for how long? A decade? I take all of these drugs and I am frustrated. They mask everything or only give me little relief until something else breaks down. I hate my body. Today, I said things that I would never say. I wanted to die. I have to fight everyday, to get up, to go to work, to be a mom, to be a wife, etc. I don't think that I am doing a good job. I am just so overwhelmed with all of these feelings of frustration. I feel alone. I just want to live my life out. My head wants to explode. I have taken vicoprofen, xanex, keppra. I am still sitting here trying to figure out next week. I sent my husband on errands so that I could be alone. I cried all afternoon. It did nothing for me to cry. But it was somewhat of a relief. I love my family. I know that it is so hard to understand how I feel and I take my anger out on the ones that I love the most. Why do I have to suffer? Why me?