Depression is not my friend

Hi depression.

Only my good and dear (and old…right, friends? Yeah, I'm pointing to P, The Swede, Wisp...and me, too 😉) friends know I struggled with depression for all my life.  I can hide that really well (and most people who have depression hid that, too), but it’s not like I’m sad every moment because I’m not…usually, I’m happy if I’m using my coping mechanisms (and I do).

But damn, this year was rough for me. 

I’m not going to write the details because that is not the point.  Just know, it was bad…really bad.  And when the shit hit the fan, I felt I was falling in a big hole and I can’t climb out. Yeah, I was in trouble.

You see, I tried to use my coping mechanisms.  After my stroke, it was tricky because my coping mechanisms was driving while singing or just write…it was "therapy," so it was hard when I lost that. But I found new coping mechanisms; a new gym (barre...love, love, love it!), hiking and eating healthy.  Plus, I starting to write again (like, on my blog lol) and I can sing a little now (awesome, right? 😊).  So, I tried ALL my coping mechanisms.  But, I was still falling to the hole; I realized I need a new chapter in my life.

I go to therapy and my therapist always has good ideas, so we talked. I talked with friends, too.  Then, I made my plan.  A big thing to help me is move out and get a place for me and my boys (I love my family but is living with them is fucking hard when their philosophy is...umm...interesting...while your philosophy is the opposite), but getting a place is not free. So, I decided to get a job.  I found a vocational rehabilitation program; they help people who has disabilities. I was definitely eligible for the program, so my counselor said let’s start apply for jobs. 

I applied for a job, and guess what? I got it. I think this job is a new fit and I really am excited to work again.  But right now, it…is…TERRIFYING; the training is a little intense and most my co-workers know about my stroke and they are nice, but they don't get it.  I wish people can feel what I can feel with my new job, but they can’t if they didn’t have a stroke.  I’m trying to find my confidence, but it’s still really scary.  But if I want to work and get a place, I have to ride the wave (although it looks like a tsunami) before the beach.  I want to walk on the beach…maybe drink cocktails while walk on the beach, you know…stuff like that 😉. 

So, sorry depression because I won again…and I will win every time.

Failed for 2017

Oh blog...I'm sorry.  I will write soon (hopefully 😉).

Forgiveness

Ooooh poor my blog...I need to write more...

...anyway...

When I was dealing with my divorce, I went to my therapist and I said, "I need to forgive my ex-husband and his family."  I still remembered when we (me and my lawyer and my ex with his cocky annoying lawyer) where at court (ugh, court...I hate hate HATE going to court!).  Saw my ex and saw his face and his eyes; he was so so bitter (and he is still bitter).   My goal is forgiveness but it is not for my ex and his family...at all.  It is for me.  I vowed that I will NOT let the bitterness in me...

...BUT...

Forgiveness is so so so hard...we don't have instructions.  I'm not focusing with my divorce because it is done.  I am focusing for my future and my boys.  My ex and me have boundaries; usually we just use email.  If we have to talk, it is fast and we focusing for our boys...so, it is good.  But the memories are still in my brain.  Yes, I had a stroke but my memories are intact and my memory is really good (damn, right? haha).  Sometimes there is a memory when I am playing with my boys...the memory will stir up, then I will think...and then anger and/or sad.  Yay.  I hate that.

I watched a documentary...about a Auschwitz survivor.  Her name is Eva Kor...she is a twin and she was in Auschwitz.  The Nazis did awful stuff..."Medical Experiments" like: 

• Freezing / Hypothermia
• Genetics
• Infectious Diseases
• Interrogation and Torture
• Killing / Genocide
• High Altitude
• Pharmacological
• Sterilization
• Surgery
• Traumatic Injuries

Nice, right?  So sad, so horrible things...awful awful awful.  Eva went to at court.; the trial was a former death camp clerk.  She said "I forgive you" for the death camp clerk.  What?!?!  She explained, "‘As long as we understand my forgiveness that the victim has a right to be free, you cannot be free from what was done to you unless you remove from your shoulder the daily burden of pain and anger and forgive the Nazis – not because they deserve it, but because I deserve it.  ‘When I talk to survivors, and I say why on earth does my forgiveness hurt you, they have no answers. I guess victims like to have more victims; the bigger the crowd, the better. I don’t understand it.  ‘I don’t forget what they have done to me. But I am not a poor person – I am a victorious woman who has been able to rise above the pain and forgive the Nazis.’ When she approached him before the hearing, she held her arms outstretched towards his – and this most unlikely pair became locked in an embrace."

So, if Eva can forgive, I can too.  I will...not today, but I will.  

Perspective

My family and my friends are so nice, kind, awesome, etc...just good people.  They said, "Julie, you are strong!" or "Julie, you are a hero (to my sons)!"   First, THANK YOU!  Thank you.  But I think I am not (a strong person or a hero).  I did not saying, "Julie, you will a strong person because you want to!"  Nope...my life was saying, "Julie, just do it because you have to."  There was not a choice.  After my stroke it was sad, then moving to Seattle and saw my marriage then crumbled...sigh.  Then my divorce was hell (I'm not lying, I will not divorce again...hell, I don't know if my will married again).  My old life was hard.  BUT I have to, because my sons need me.

Here it is the thing...before my stroke my coping was singing (driving and singing was my therapy), writing (hello blog haha), talking my family and friends.  After my stroke my coping/therapy was shattered.  I can't sing right now...remember my apraxia (my blog)?  I know the lyrics...BUT my silly mouth won't work.  And after my stoke, writing is so, so, so, SO hard.  If my can't talk, forget write (plus spelling is a joke haha).  I was trying to the "half full water glass" but damn, having a stroke is hard...and I was sad (and sometime still sad).  Then, I think moving to Seattle was good...a new slate.  I was so dumb...so, so, so dumb.  I will not what happening all, because it is done.  BUT I will say divorce was not pretty.  Child custody was worse; reading the declarations...the outright lies then defense me, meet the parent evaluator, take the tests, going to court (hate, hate, HATE court!) etc. was HELL.

I was down...it is easy when your life is hard and you say, "I can't do it..I'm done."

Then...yay Netflix...there was a documentary calling "Auschwitz: Inside the Nazi State."  It was interesting.  I went to see Dachau (a concentration camp) when I was in Germany (I was fifteen...) ...awful.  So, watch the horror the...wow...crazy. The BAD crazy.  You can think I am cheesy...BUT...watch the awful stuff to the Jews, I think "You know, I am fine!  I'm so happy that I am not a in a concentration camp!"

Now, my sons need me AND I want to a happy life.  And I am.  If you are think the bad stuff, then think your life...life is good, and it works.  Maybe people will says, "Duh, we know."  But perspective is the key for me (and a good therapist haha).  Try if you want to...it will help.

My Life

Good-bye new state

Good-bye new the freeway

Good-bye new friends

Good-bye new house

Middle the states

Middle the freeway

Middle the restaurants

Middle the hotel

Hello old state

Hello old freeway

Hello old friends
Hello old home

Good-bye new family

Hello old family

Good-bye new pain

Hello old peace

good-bye coward

HELLO CONFIDENCE

good-bye hellish chapter

HELLO NEW CHAPTER

...I am happy!!!

My Stroke: Aphasia and Apraxia

My ex-husband wrote (my blog) what happened after my stroke (and thanks Jacob).  I want to write myself now....because my story is not done.

There a stroke group and I go when I can...I love it (thanks Megan and Dr. Kendall!).  We watched a movie called "Aphasia: Hope is a four letter word."  Before I was watching, I think I forget a little...I forget the therapy in the hospital.  But when I was watch the movie, I remembered.  There is a scene...Carl (the man with aphasia) went to a party.  There was a jackass...he yelled to Carl, "Hey Carl, where is your nose?"  And, of course, he doesn't know (and yes, that happened).  I remember sitting in the hospital...and the therapist said, "Julie, where is your nose?"  Guess what?  I didn't know.  I didn't know my body parts.  That was so, so humiliating.  There is aphasia...evil aphasia (ummm, I can say I know my body parts again...phew haha!).

After we moved to Washington, we met Megan.  There was a study in Washington of University.  Megan was my speech therapist for 6 weeks...5 days and 2 hours.  Megan taught to phonics again.  For me, that was awesome!  My speech therapists in Utah was so good, but I was slow.  After working and WORKING with Megan, I was talking better and better (so, so, so happy).  There was a test with the study.  There was weird no-real word...I have to try talk that (hate it! Haha), reading, numbers, and naming pictures.  Naming pictures was frustrating, because there was a lot that I know that name, but my silly mouth.  Like, there was a picture...there was a "treasure."  My brain said, "Oooh, a treasure!"  I tried...again and again...but NOPE.  My mouth was working....silly, dumb, silly mouth.  Thank you, apraxia.  When I was talking to Megan and I seeing a picture I said, "Ugh, it is right there (pointing my forehead) but my mouth is not working!"  Haha that is my life right now.  

So...that is a little my story.  I'm not done, but right now after 2 hours, I got to go ;).  Thank you for reading you want to.  :)

Hi my blog! I miss you!

Well...my hell is done. Hallelujah!!!!!!!!!!!!!  No trial, no drama...now, I can write again (haha kinda ;)).  I could write what happen, but who cares?  LOL that's why I go to therapy (YAY therapy!).  ;)  

Freedom is awesome.

1 year ago my life was crazy.  I was shy, anxious, SAD, and not happy.  It is hard still...blah blah stroke blah blah...but now, I am confident and happy...still lonely but I am moving to Utah.  :)  Hi family and friends, I am coming!!!

Favorite Quote

(Thanks Karin...)

"Life has no other discipline to impose,

If we would but realize it,

Than to accept life unquestioningly.

Everything we shut our eyes to,

Everything we run away from, everything we deny,

Denigrate or despise, serves to defeat us in the end.

What seems nasty, painful, evil,

Can become a source of beauty, joy and strength,

if faced with an open mind.

Every moment is a golden one for him

Who has the vision to recognize is a such."

-Henry Miller

I'm okay.

I can't talk/write...divorce, court, my hubby, hubby's family, lawyers, drama, etc (well, now right...after I'm divorced...eh, if I want to).

But, I can write that I'm good.  It is hard (STRESS!), but I'm stronger (lol right wisp?  CD...I like it!!).  Before, my hubby was help me...my pills, doctor appointments...really any the talk haha.  That now...ME...I do it.  My pill, my doctor appointments, restaurants, shopping, etc.  Like, I was to the mall...because my phone was old and my bill and my hubby's bills...ANYWAY...so, I said, "Hi, it's hard to talk because my stroke.  Please can you help me?"  He helped me. Yay!!  Also, we go a park all the time...when they play the kids I will go where Moms...we chit chat.  I'm not anxious.  :)

So...divorce is...NOT is my favorite.  But, I'm okay, I'm stronger because I have to...that good! :)

Ooops

Sorry September...my bad.  I was going to write but...court is...well, NOT my favorite.  Stress, drama (not me...sigh), etc.  That is all...right now.

Sooo, again, sorry September.  I will write again October...I hope.

WOW...

...guess what?  You did it...you did it.  ::clapping clapping clapping::  Good job (oh sarcasm)!!!!!

Also...thanks Within Temptation.  Ditto.

divorce

Rain, rain, rain...please stop...

..sigh...

...well...no comment.

breathe

I am okay.

Kinda.

I thought it was hell...Fertility.
I thought it was hell...Stroke.
Guess I will going to hell...

..."he/she" not done.

You know what?  Fuck you  (theism....whatever) .  I am NOT dead.

STRONGER...I'm not done.

:P !!!!  (emotes..thanks Wisp! lol)

News...sigh...

Summer...I like it.  Sun is up.  Mountain...I am see (Mt. Rainer... beautiful!).  I am happy.

BUT...

May 1 -- Grandma and Grandpa was killed.  Mom and Baby (2 months!!) are in hospital still.  Mom is stroke...aphasia.  No no no no no no...stroke is hard!  Baby is...well...brain is not good.  Drunk man.  "According to court documents...has been arrested at least five times...for driving under the influence..."  What the hell???  Soooo...money and lawyers...yeah.

May 6 -- My sister: "Life can be so bittersweet! Came to work tonight to find out that a friend I have known since Kindergarten passed away today giving birth to her 6th child. Feeling so devastated for her husband and children! And yet...loving all the memories that my friends have posted of her."   Sooooooo sad!

Boston Marathon, school gun shooting, politics, blah blah blah blah...

So...news...not today.  Maybe tomorrow.

Blog

Titles...

• Pigs are Evil
• Birds
• Politics (HA HA)
• Swearing
• Stroke Card

Sigh.  Nope nope nope.

April 29...30.  We'll see.

Aphasia

It is time! lol...

So...I went to University of Washington.  Dr. Kendall is really nice...she did help me.  Remember Megan (UW project)?  Dr Kendall "the boss" to Megan.  

Anyway...I went to UW because she (Dr. Kendall) want me to class...because I have aphasia.  So, there 2 aphasia also (so, me, Dixie and Matt).  It was "Speech Therapist 1" (a lot people).  People don't know there a lot stroke...not the same.  It was toooo nervous!  Because...people they think a stroke is for "old."  You know...Grandma and Grandpa.

Nope.  I am 31...my stroke was 29.  I'm young.  Is like...woah.  Yup (Dixie is "Grandma," but Matt is young also).

So...we talked.  They have questions...like, "what happened?" and "can you more (talk, writing, read, etc.)?"  It was good...really  I said, "I'm not weird!  My brain is good (well, kinda lol)...I'm not psycho!" LOL.  People is nice...class was sooo nice.  Seattle...people is nice!

Now, I don't care.  That's good!!  Before, I want...like, "Shhhhh!!  No stroke...mmm...no no no!"  Now but now...I say, "Sorry, I can't talk because I'm have a stroke...help you me (groceries, store, etc)?"  I'm not afraid.  2 years...gone.  Phew!  ;)

Thank you Dr. Kendall...you and your class students card is nice (also, starbucks card was good lol)!

I like coffee...BUT...

Hi people!

Sooo...I like coffee.  Breakfast + coffee = Happy!  But...I went to the cabinet a mug.  Coffee was done, so I did pour the drink in a mug.  Coffee cream...check...what's that in a mug??

Spider.  Ew.  Dead...but still...Ew.

I'm done right now...not coffee today.  Will see tomorrow...maybe.  The end.

:)

Blah

I am sad today.  Before, I was good (write)...I miss writing.  It's hard...FRUSTRATION!!  But, that's okay...I will again.  I have to.

So...New Years Resolution: post blog 1 month (help me write please!?!?).  Yup.  I wish my mouth with my brain...dumb aphasia stroke.  I'm sorry I'm sad.  But I'm not dead, so that's better nothing...but...sigh.

Ok...that's all today.

I love you guys!! xoxo

Hello people :)

How are you?  I trying write...it is hard.  Blah lol.

I am better talking.  UW is good...they are helping!  Also, I trying read a book.  We'll see lol.

Anyway...that's all today.  Bye!

Hubby...I love you...

"...Seven months ago, my wife had a catastrophic stroke. Until today, for all my alleged training and fondness for ornaments of rhetorical pretension, I have thus far utterly failed in my efforts to successfully articulate the series of events that have since surrounded us. After a great deal of thought, I have narrowed the field down to two similes that I feel most adequately frame our dual semiotic crises. The stroke has left her permanently debilitated, and she and I have since learned to communicate using a propriety language and dialect we have created together. As I understand it, according to my wife, having a stroke is “like” gaslighting.

It took many months, but a few of the memories from before her stroke—and even a very few from immediately after—have slowly come back to her in fragments. She reports that the stroke itself was painless, as it was accompanied by the cursed blessing of a coma. When the victim awakes, the damage has already been done. The stroke is a thief and a destroyer: it primarily robbed from her mind the very cogs in the engine of linguistic transmission. However, what many people don’t realize about my wife is that the stoke—while in the process of firebombing her brain—also encountered several others non-linguistic gears: the stroke affected her “super-ego,” her muscle memories (writing, chopping vegetables, brushing teeth, etc.), and the very specific cognitive gear of self-awareness that would allow her to perceive her impairment. Each of these things were not stolen outright, but they were instead blown into a million fucking pieces.

For Julie, this meant that the stroke was not at all, like most people thought, some traumatic event that could be grieved, but instead it was a mysterious, waking nightmare that she could not escape from. By the time she was helicoptered to the hospital and began to recover from her sedation and coma, Julie was now, neurologically speaking, literally incapable of understanding why she was being detained. Her first memory of the University of Utah is one of demanding to know why she was in bed and why they would not let go. At this point, she had no ability to realize that she could not speak, even as she was in the very act of trying to do so: words still came freely to her mind, but as she tried to send the words down to her lips, she could not perceive—even while it was being pointed out to her—that there was nothing was coming out. Without a functional super-ego to stop her, or the ability to identify the nature of her situation, for the first few days Julie would repeatedly tear off her hospital gown in confused frustration, try to rip the IVs and electrodes from her arms and chest, and she would then attempt to escape naked from the ICU in angry defiance of her captors. This was still before she could even yet walk unassisted. I had to tackle her numerous times and pin her down until I could call for reinforcements, after which the nurses would swarm in and once again sedate her.

As Julie began to recompile a new persona, she began in-patient rehabilitation via speech, occupational, and physical therapy routines. However, even as she would engage in rehabilitative therapy, her tunnel of reality at this point was still entirely incapable of fathoming answers to any of the following questions: Why was she was in the hospital? Why are the nurses asking her all these questions? Why were they asking her to demonstrate if she could hold a baby in her arms? Why can’t she have a hamburger? Why could she not communicate to anyone? Why was she having trouble reading? Why was she was not allowed to see her two-month old babies? How long is she going to be stuck her?

I stayed with her night and day until she began to adapt and feel at least somewhat comfortable with life in the hospital. It took, I am guessing, more than 100 separate attempts over the course of about a month for me to finally, successfully explain to Julie that she had indeed suffered a stroke and convince her in some part of the nature of her new disability. This devastating revelation, once it finally hit home, was certainly not welcome. However, until that moment of cruelest epiphany, even a month after her stroke, the world she had perceived up until then was one of perpetual confusion, isolation, fear, and gaslighting.

As for myself, the simile I have come to settle on, at least for today, is this: watching your 29-year old wife suffer and slowly recover from an entirely preventable, massive stroke after giving birth to your first children—your twin boys—due to the repeated and utter incompetence of no less than a handful of lazy, negligent, and perhaps downright malevolent medical personnel is somewhat “like” the scene from Alien where John Hurt explores the mysterious derelict spaceship, but my sordid tale is not one that ought to be posted here..."