Diary of a Mad Woman Gone Sane

Hello friends and family. Recently I heard a song about the struggle of being a man. Oddly enough, I identified with the song. I will never know what it is to be a man, but I do know what it's like to be the one who is holding everything together. Feeling like you cannot fail. It made me think back to the years of being the breadwinner. Joe wasn't able to work in his last 7 or 8 years of his life. This meant that it all fell on me to provide. I would work 2 jobs to make it work. I had to ask my parents for money. My son and husband were never hungry, homeless, without power or water. We lived in decent places, in decent neighborhoods. Our son went to charter school until junior high. I did my best to provide. Our son got most of the toys he wanted, and Joe and I had some nice stuff too. I stretched myself and my body as far as I could. I was ridiculed for not being home and raising my son. Joe became a stay at home dad and did as much as he could to help. He was embarrassed tha

Recently it was brought to my attention that I am High Functioning. What does that mean exactly? It means that in spite of multiple traumas that caused complex PTSD, in spite of abusive relationships, in spite of watching my parents, and other adults, make bad choices, in spite of substance abuse, I have been successful in appearing "normal". I have adapted to survive in the world. I navigated around my physical and emotional difficulties for decades.  Because of my physical limitations, I've altered the way I do everything, and the jobs I would apply for, when I was still working. I couldn't take physically taxing jobs and I couldn't be away from home. I do things differently living off grid, because everything is heavy and clumsy. The thought of getting hurt out here is a bit daunting. The ambulance won't drive to my house.  I also do this with my mental health. I pretended for most of my life that I was completely fine. I was told that I have PT

Another post, yay! Since Joe died I've had to become better at boundaries, setting and holding them. Joe and I were good at knowing each other's boundaries, and not stepping over them. Of course, unfortunately, most people are not like that. I'm a woman and a widow, and I'm not grand in stature. Three things that aren't in my favor when it comes to gaining respect, especially from men. I've had to give up friendships, because they couldn't respect my boundaries. I've distanced myself from friends and family who weren't willing to be civil. My boundaries have changed. I've been hypervigilant my entire life, but now it is even more  important to maintain my boundaries. To keep my peace and home protected, I must not allow certain people and certain behaviors to take place around me. I've earned this life, so I have to fight for it. Setting and holding boundaries takes practice, but I'm worthy of respect. I've always been a p

Hello, friends. I apologize for being so late in posting. Life has been crazy, per usual, and winter is once again here. I hope you are all well. Recently I celebrated my 51st birthday.  While I'm so grateful to be blessed with each day, birthdays are different now, and I miss my person extra. Here is something that came to mind. Something happened when Joe died, I became homeless. I still had a roof over my head, but I no longer had a home. He had been my home. Who was I without him? I no longer knew. He had been my world, and suddenly my world imploded. He has been gone almost 7 years, and I am still angry and sad. Angry at myself for not being able to prevent his death, and angry at him for abandoning us, and angry at the planet for not noticing that he wasn't there anymore. I have built a brand new life, but I can still feel the gaping hole that he resided in. I have tried to fill it with people, alcohol, distractions. Nothing has been successful. I am trying not to dread t

3 years ago a litter of puppies blessed my home. One of these puppies would join my family of dogs and cats. Sadly I lost her last fall, shortly after she turned 2. Her name is Zoey Bear. Yesterday was her birthday. In her honor I added another dog to the mix. Her name is Loca. She is a Belgian Malinois. I didn't intend to bring her home, but the owner insisted that she be gifted to me. Around here she is known as a coyote killer. She is only 3 months old, but she notices every single thing. Her large ears and eyes don't miss a thing. She likes to sleep. She is crate trained. It seems to be her safe place. She is afraid of the boy cats. She hasn't met the girls yet, because they are currently on mouse duty in the other bus. I have only been able to introduce her to one of the 6 dogs. Kiwi dog is my oldest. She turns 11 next month. She sniffed her and came over to get pet. Loca is playful and tries to play with the cats. They want no part.of it. I think she is go

And now, the rest of the story...I've been out of the Air Force since 1996. I rarely tell people that I am a veteran, and if I do they don't believe me. I've lived my life so as not to be defined by my service. I'm pretty unique. I don't wear military identifiers. Yes, my time in the military was both beneficial and harmful. This hat was given to me by a lady I met in New Mexico. She got upset because I don't mention my service very often. I'm in no way embarrassed by my service, but when people thank me for my service I become uncomfortable. I did my job as a security police, as I have done all jobs in my life, to the best of my ability. I don't disregard all of the men and women who have fought and died, but I don't feel like I am in the same category as them. I do feel that veterans should be treated better than we are, and there needs to be more support for mental health and addiction. To all who have served, I am thankful. As for mys

Good day to you all. I hope this finds you well. Kids are returning to school, and summer is apparently coming to a close. The days are not as hot in the presert, and the nights are becoming cooler. We've had a little rain, but not nearly enough. The rain has mostly just made it humid. And, yes, the usual dry heat here is very different than when it's humid. I've cleared the 10 days of hell for the 7th time. The fog is beginning to lift on my widow brain. At this, and other tough times, I find that the best thing I can do is to be grateful for the things that aren't shit. I have food, and shelter, and clothes, and animals, and people who love me. I have flowers and trees and food growing in the sand. I am in decent health, all things considered. Gratitude helps to remind us how blessed we are. Not focusing on how much life can be a fucking dumpster fire. It feels like when I am struggling, life becomes more challenging. It must be Murphy's Law. This set

On August 5th, 1996 a guy walked into a bar. Sounds like the beginning of a bad joke. He had on plaid shorts, a striped shirt, and a baseball cap. I had no idea that this man would change my life forever, but I'm so glad he did. We had nearly 21 years of amazing and awful, thanks to a terrible illness called Multiple Sclerosis, and later Dementia. We were blessed with love and joy, mostly. He was my best friend,  my husband, the father of our son, my biggest fan, my greatest adventure, the love of my life, my entire world. He was one of the few men I ever trusted completely. He treated me with respect and patience, even when I was behaving like an asshole. He loved that I am intelligent and he was my loudest cheerleader. He made me believe in myself. He called me his wonder woman. He believed in me. Today I miss him terribly, but I'm so grateful for his existence in my life. Tomorrow is what would have been his 51st birthday. These days are difficult without him, bu

Hello my peeps. I hope you are all staying cool in this heatwave that has turned the rest of the country into an Arizona summer. All is well in the presert, mostly. Kittens are growing and wild. They add a lot of joy to the bus. Dogs are used to the heat, but they are hot, of course. They have all been through a few summers. We have been praying for rain, but it seems to be avoiding my house so far. Tomorrow is what would have been Joe and my 23rd wedding anniversary. I find myself gripped by grief today. I have become more comfortable with my unwelcome guest over the last 6 years and the tears that come with it, however, sometimes I wish I could evict her. I get tired of being overtaken by the giant waves that arrive unannounced, and usually at the most inopportune times. At this time of year I have our wedding anniversary, then the anniversary of when we met, and then Joe's birthday. It's a really rough time for me. This year I'm trying to do it better. I want

Good day to you all! Recently I was blessed with 4 kittens. They're around 3 months old. I went to a friend's house for a visit, and they asked if I wanted another kitten. I didn't, but it needed a home and was about the same age as my kittens. So I agreed to take the kitten. Originally I thought it was a girl, but it turns out that she was a he. Named it Olive at first, now he's Oliver. He is the smallest, but is fierce and feisty. He is fitting right in. He loves people and is very affectionate. He is unsure about the dogs, but they have been outside mostly since the kittens were born. Only a few of the dogs have been inside for brief periods of time. All of the kittens are growing and doing well. They are so fun and full of energy. Like furry ping pong balls bouncing around the bus. I didn't want more babies, but I can't imagine life without them. Much love,  Ceeeej  Crash, Wilbur, and Graycie  Mr G

Hello, my people. I apologize for the sporadic posting, but I have a lot going on and it's so hot here that my brain is mushy. EMDR is going well, but it's not easy. Everything is being processed and either thrown out or reframed. Pretty much 24/7. I'm very short fused and irritable. And I have very little patience or a sense of humor. I've been trying to get more sleep and drink less beer. Seriously considering quitting drinking, because it sometimes gets out of hand. In the last session of EMDR, I realized that I have the belief that I'm a bad person. This was something I was told, possibly accidentally, for much of my childhood. I believed death was bad, and talking about the dead was off limits. I had a traumatic loss as a young child, and for 40 years I took full responsibility for the loss. I thought I had somehow caused it. I have been able to see that none of the above is true, and have begun to heal this very old scar. I have given back the responsibility t

Hello, my friends. I hope all is well for you. Yesterday I had my 2nd session of EMDR. I had decided that I needed to work through more guilt. I'm not Catholic, but I come from a long line of them. I come by my guilt honestly. I've always felt responsible and in charge of everything and everyone. Especially for someone I'd tried to keep safe and alive. This one was about my dearly departed husband. Yes, I have guilt and shame around his death, because I was his caregiver and I was his wife and the mother of his child. Yes, I have survivors guilt also. Ultimately, I'm trying to convince myself that I did the very best I could. Which is true, absolutely, but it is difficult to convince myself, because he is not here. To me, that feels like failure. Unfortunately I couldn't have prevented his death and the most amazing thing is that I did my best to give him a life, not just keep him alive. And help him get his dreams. And give him a son, and a family. I'm trying t

I hope June finds you all well. Recently I have had many changes. One of the most important changes I am making is a therapy type called EMDR, Eye movement desensitization and reprocessing. Since I have experienced multiple traumas in my life, I have been in therapy for several years. I have gone through a variety of therapy types. I don't think everyone benefits from therapy, but I have. I decided after losing Joe that I could no longer do it alone. For 4 decades, I had been a high functioning person with PTSD. I had no idea that I had PTSD. I thought people had to go to war to have PTSD, but my life has been horrible at times. Those experiences make me who I am, however I didn't want to be pulled around my life anymore by the traumas. I have found meditation excellent, especially for myself as I am a breath holder. EFT, Emotion-focused therapy, also known as tapping, is very effective, and your brain does all the work. Neurofeedback is effortless and starts repair

I apologize for being so belated on posting, however I have had many changes in my life this spring and I have been busy planting and watering. Yes, it is finally spring in the presert. It seemed like winter would never end. All of the trees I planted last year survived the winter. The roses are getting ready to bloom and the peppermint is spreading out. 3 peaches and 1 apple are coming up. I have tomatoes and peppers started in the bus. My avocado is doing extraordinary and ready to get a bigger pot. I've been hauling more water, but I'm excited to see everything growing. The presert has given us a lot of flowers this spring, and the cacti are getting ready to have flowers on them. A little over a month ago I was blessed with 5 kittens. Unfortunately I lost one shortly after they were born. The remaining 4 are doing fantastic! They are eating kitten food and using the cat box. They are very adorable and exceptional escape artists. I love them! I hope spring gives y

Recently spring has been trying to happen, but winter hasn't wanted to leave. Everything is trying to bloom but winter arrives every evening. Some trees and plants survived the chill of winter while some didn't. This is the way of the presert. Lost a cat to a predator recently, and was sharply reminded that she takes what she wants. Her sister is going to have kittens soon, so life continues. The wind has been blowing like crazy, so I took the opportunity to clear some of my tumbleweeds away. All I had to do was rake them into the 80 mile per hour wind and they were gone. I'll have to do more, but I got rid of the huge ones. Unfortunately right now the wind makes it impossible to burn anything. My trash is piling up, and I'd prefer to burn the tumbleweeds. Mother Nature says no. The cacti are working on flowering and the roses are getting new leaves. My bamboo is beginning to sprout. Birds sing as they fly around the bus. New little butterflies are appearing

This is a couple days late, as it was written on Monday. Today marks a week away from the 6th anniversary of Joe's passing. This seems impossible. Joe's death feels like it was yesterday and forever ago, simultaneously. 6 years ago I was exhausted emotionally and physically. It was a Monday and the first day of spring. We used to drink beer on Mondays. I tried to have Mondays off, so we could have the day. I usually spent too much money, but those are the best days in my memory. We would talk about whatever. And laugh. Anyway on that Monday, I was up very early and I was salty. I began drinking at 8am. Our backyard was flowering and the sun was shining in on Joe's hospice bed. He spent the day staring out the window. I could feel his apprehension. He had to leave, because his body was failing but he didn't want to. I didn't want him to either. Even though I had told him that he could. My mother in law was there all day. After she left, I crawled up on the bed with h

Before Joe passed away, he lost his wedding ring, when we moved into the house. We'd always had matching rings, so I put mine away and bought new ones. They were a thick metal, steel maybe. They were inexpensive and sturdier than our gold rings. I began working in production. I lost my ring twice at work. Both times it was found, fortunately. It hurt my fingers as my peripheral neuropathy from my CMT (which will be covered later) was getting worse. I began to leave my ring in the car when I was at work and I'd put it back on when I got home. Everyone knew I had been married for many years. Sometimes I wouldn't put my ring back on, because it hurt. Joe began to suspect something. I'm sure my behavior was completely suspect, by this time, but I was distracting with work and beer and cannabis, not another man. I am not proud of my behavior, but my life as I knew it was rapidly approaching the end. I was trying to hold it all together as it was crashing down aro

The tattoo we both got the summer before Joe died  What I thought widow hood would look like and what it actually is are completely different. I never wanted to be a widow when I grew up, yet here I am. I thought I would be treated with kindness and respect. I thought people would check on me, feed my house, and ensure we were OK. Not to say that I don't have amazing people who have been there for me, because I absolutely do! And I am grateful for all of them! However the reality of being a widow has been an eye opener. I have lost contact with most of my dear husband's friends and family. I have been judged for the difficult decisions I made at the request of my best friend. Having a sick spouse you talk about death and how they want you to handle things. He had requested not to be resuscitated. He didn't want to be a vegetable. Even though I didn't want to, I let him go, the way he wanted. After 15 years I felt like a failure because he died. For all our y

            Flowers I got myself  As Valentines Day approaches, I am taken back in time. Joe showed me every single day that he loved me, and we all know that Valentines Day is the day when people who don't usually go out decide to fill the restaurants and theaters. In the service industry, it's known as the amateur hour. Joe and I would usually go out day drinking at local breweries and find a delicious meal on Valentines Day, if I got the day off, then we would go home and watch a movie. He was always good about making me feel special, especially on the important days. Our last Valentines Day was 2 years before he passed away. We had driven from Montana after attending my grandmother's funeral. We got into town late, and it began snowing. We forgot that it was Valentines Day. Every restaurant was fully booked, except for one. We were tired and hungry and we wanted to get home. I didn't feel like celebrating anything, and I didn't know that it would be

As some of you may know, it's winter in the presert. Which means dog rug time. Dogs in every space on the floor, right by the wood burning stove. Yes, dogs have been stepped on and getting anywhere is impossible in the dark. I have become a dog rug ninja. I've had up to 8 dogs in the dog rug. Winter time means almost every dog in at night. Single digits outside versus a nice toasty fire. Out of the wind. Stoking the fire in the middle of the dog rug is challenging and usually dogs must be moved temporarily. It's like dog twister, walking in the dog rug, in order to avoid stepping on any dog bodies. This is one of the few times that they all get along, because they could be kicked out. Everyone snores loudly when I'm not wading through the dog rug. I love that sound! Snoring dogs. Many don't know what it took to get here. They just know this place and nothing else. Here is their home. They protect it fiercely. And now they dream. A happy sight, the dog ru

I was raised, like many of you, with the notion that someday someone would rescue me and we would live happily ever after. I thought I had to be part of a couple. I watched my parents, and others, make unwise decisions just to be with someone. From the time I was 17 I was in a relationship. I thought I had to endure bullshit to stay in a lot of the relationships. I got to have a little bit of a fairy tale when I met Joe, but it wasn't always easy and sometimes we just didn't give up. I'm sure we both wanted to, at times. After he died, the scariest notion was to be alone forever. I quickly sought out another relationship. I was in no condition to do so, and he was unable to be Joe, but I tried to make it work anyway. That relationship just about destroyed me, however it brought me to the presert. Then I found myself alone out here. After 46 years of life, I realized that I didn't know who I was without a man. And I hated myself for being human. I had made so

The picture Joe took of me in 2017 when he helped me buy a car In 2017, just a couple months before Joe died, he cosigned a beautiful vehicle for me. Neither of us had great credit, but he could always help me get a car. Even though he had no income except for social security. Even if he had no job and I had 2 or more. Anyway, he always wanted everything for us. He was rapidly declining and legally his signature wouldn't have held up in court. I'm not completely sure he knew what he was doing, other than trying to take care of his family. His dementia had taken him mostly away, but he knew that he loved me and our son, and maybe he knew that this would be the last thing he could do for us. Since Christmas things had been unraveling quickly. I think he knew that he had to leave, but he wasn't ready, and he knew that we weren't going to be alright. Joe wanted to belong somewhere and now he did and he wasn't allowed to stay. We were approved for a newish ca