I "Checked Out" of Everything for Two Years. Here's Why:

Two years ago today my home burned down. My then husband and I had lived in it for 14 years, had just Pebble-tech and retiled the pool and had a beautiful custom kitchen built. Our little dog, Daisy, and one of my parents' dogs were asleep inside and the smoke got them. I remember very little about this day except my DP driving me to get my parents' other dog who was outside during the fire. I remember the way he smelled, of smoke and dog, and I remember holding the phone in my hand and my father was on the other end of the line but I have no idea what either of us said to the other. My husband, Grammy, uncles and aunts were all there at the house, and of course the fire department. I cannot imagine how hard it was for my husband to have to come home to that and to call me and tell me what happened. I remember almost none of his call, except these words “I have some bad news”.

I then spent a brief period in a mental health facility, during which stay my boss of more than 6 years at the time called me WHILE I WAS IN THE HOSPITAL UNDER 24 HOUR SURVEILLANCE AND ON SUICIDE WATCH and said “The firm is going in a new direction” and that I no longer had a job. He and his wife are embarrassingly faux Christians. The kind that use Jesus as the reason/excuse for everything. What Would Jesus Do? Well, I'm gonna guess he wouldn't call me at the mental hospital a couple days after my life went up in flames and I was tranked out and suicidal and fire me. Just a guess. Looking back over documents and emails and stuff I found an email that his wife sent me a couple of months after the fire essentially telling me that if only I had given in to their daily attempts at Christianing me up, none of this would have happened.

The end of 2009 and much of 2010, through the Spring into early Summer, is almost a complete blank. My then husband was very kind in caring for me during this time, even though I was, frankly, out of it and a complete nightmare to be around. He and I have since divorced, but he is a really good person who deserves a normal and happy life, and I want that for him. I spent 2010 in therapy several times per week and on all kinds of medications because I am now suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. It's very strange to see pictures of myself from this period and listen to people recount places I went and things that I did and have no memory of being there/doing that. I randomly get flashes of memory sometimes, but it's never anything very exciting or life changing.

The doctors all say that whatever my brain has decided to lock away in the “memories lost” vault needs to stay there. They explained that your body and brain often know what you need and that your mind thinks you need to know, but your brain knows better. There is less support for the old school therapy approach of “let's talk and talk and relive the trauma and relive it some more and hypnotize you until you remember everything” these days, which I appreciate. I haven't stopped crying during this entire post, imagine having to talk about the horrible things that happened every day to a doctor who can't change it, and then being coerced to remember MORE about those horrible things. No thank you.

I still have short term memory loss, which is often embarrassing, so I explain the PTSD right away to new people, because chances are I will not remember their name a few minutes after they introduce themselves to me. I am working on learning different systems from other PTSD patients with short term memory loss to assist me in remembering people”s names and where/when we met, because I feel rude and dumb, though I am in fact, neither.

As a “bonus gift” - you know, like what you get when you spend $36 on high end makeup (if I can't make a joke about some of this I could not survive)- I began to have [and notice] paralyzing (LITERALLY) physical pain once my entire brain was not consumed by shock. I would wake up feeling like my arms and legs were burning or that my feet were so cold they were going to shatter like glass. Frequently I was unable to move my arms, hands, legs and/or feet. Sometimes it feels like there are needles poking rapidly over and over into my skin. And the phrase “bone tired” took on actual meaning. Imagine for a minute the worst flu (the barfy kind) that you have ever had, or if you have had mono. Where you feel so exhausted and worn out that if any part of your body has to move one centimeter, you think you will drop dead. That's how I feel all the time. After the psychiatrist and therapist determined it wasn't part of my mental situation, I went to the doctor and had a million tests. Then I was sent to the rheumatologist who determined that I have Fibromyalgia, a chronic, incurable illness and Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, which often accompanies it. The latter showed itself apparently in my continuous positive Epstein-Barr test result.

Let's do a quick partial recap: Fire, Mental Breakdown, Crazyhouse, Lost Career, Divorce, PTSD among other things, extensive therapy and medications, AND Fibromyalgia and CFS.

Reading back over this post, I still think “This couldn't really have happened to me.” But it did, and this is only a tiny part of what has happened to me since that first flicker of open flame.

Oooh....SHINY!

So, as you may have determined by my laissez-faire attitude toward this blog, I have the attention span of a hummingbird. I get all gung ho about something, and start it with every intention of seeing it through, then….wow , look how sparkly that is! Ummm…what was I saying?

Since my last post I looked into Shopaholics/Debtors Anonymous and found them too Jesus oriented for my taste. Then I hit the bookstore. In a fit of irony, I spent money on books about how to stop spending money. I love irony. I am working my way through Deepak Chopra’s “Freedom From Addiction” which is actually pretty interesting. I am a fan of his “authentic beliefs”, especially the first one “I am doing my best given my current psychological and spiritual resources.” That really applies to my entire life. I am in flux, but I am doing the best I can trying to figure out if I want to stay married, deal with family situations, work difficulties and just the trials and tribulations that are part of everyday life. Usually, when there is a problem I block it out with a pile of new items. I am trying to find other ways to soothe my anxiety, agitation and loneliness.

I will cop to going to a networking event/happy hour with a great friend I hadn’t seen in a while, and she needed me to help her go shoe shopping, and I bought two pairs of shoes. However, as a mitigating factor, one was the PERFECT pair of pointy black high heels and those are almost impossible to find in a size 11. And it was buy one get one for half off, so I got some new gym shoes. I consider those 2 pairs of shoes investments. They will never go out of style.

I have made tiny steps forward in my anti-spending campaign. I no longer carry $100 cash with me, as it is waaay too easy to drop in to a Starbucks, QT, McDonalds (fries – yay!) or other, similar place and drop $5 to $10 multiple times a week. It has REALLY cut down on that random, throw away spending. That may sound ridiculous, but try it and see how much of a difference it makes.

I am not going to front that I am not still spending more money than I should. I have just barely started this journey. I have, however, exchanged “stuff” for “experiences” and am now spending on events, trips and activities with all my friends that create memories and enhance my quality of life as opposed to items that just create clutter.

I am going to add “update blog” to my G1 calendar so that I don’t continue to flake it off. I promise!

Just Because I CAN buy something doesn’t mean I SHOULD. *sigh*

Thursday was a craptastic day in every regard. Woke up grouchy, work was not delightful, and I got some bad news about someone very sweet. After what seemed like an eternity, it was 4, time to leave the office. DP (one of my closest friends ever) says “Go shopping with me.” I say “Ok, let’s watch me try not to buy anything. LOL. Good luck, me.” This exchange was over the IM, I do not say “LOL” out loud. On the drive to the shopping center, I was telling myself “Self, this will be no problem. You will just help her pick out stuff, and that will be almost as good as picking out stuff for yourself.” Full of confidence, I enter the store.

This is my first time in a non-grocery store this week, so this is my first test since I confessed my secret to everyone and decided to change. I was always an A student in school, and have never done poorly on a test. Until now. There, spread out before me, are racks and racks of colorful, lovely delights, some shiny, some sparkly, some ruffly. Handbags and shoes to my right, jewelry to my left. My pulse quickens, and I feel a rush of excitement. This is the first moment in this entire day I have felt happy to be out of bed. Deep breath, Self. Get a grip.

I peruse the racks with DP, trying to figure out what she likes so I can pick out some stuff for her to try on. Five minutes or so pass, so far, so good. Then a purple dress catches my eye. A designer dress, my favorite color…I’ll just have a closer look. Oh my the fabric feels wonderful. Trying it on is free, right? Look at that. A blouse with chiffon ruffles! I’ll just try that on too. I think you can all see where this is going. One piece leads to another and I end up in the dressing room with an arm load of things to try on.

DP and I try on all our items, laugh at some of them, discuss them in front of the mirror (had there been an 80s tune playing in the background it could have been a movie montage) and finally we put our own clothes back on and decide what we are going to purchase.

I am at the checkout counter, five items in hand. All of them are on sale, I tell myself, how much can it really be? I get an extra discount for being a “preferred” customer, which is swell. I watch the items ring up, and DP looks at me in her non-judgmental but obviously disappointed way. I try not to make eye contact with her, I am in the thrall of buying.

$200 later, alone in the car with my purchases, the shame begins to creep up on me. Since it was my first time in a store since admitting my problem, and I haven’t even been to a meeting yet, I am going to give myself a pass. DP did talk me into returning one dress, which is something I have NEVER done, so that’s a step in the right direction, isn’t it?

Stay tuned...

Sit back, pour yourself some wine and get to know my story.

“PROCEED TO CHECKOUT” Three little, seemingly benign words. To most people, a means to an end. To me, like crack for the soul. A panacea for all that ails me. A thrill, a dirty little secret, all my own. This is the story of my personal journey into the mall and back out again. At times funny, at times sad, always difficult.

Indulgent and self-destructive. Not words that most people would use when describing me. The most often used words include smart, fun, strong, classy and beautiful (yes, I took a poll of people who know me). If you met me, you’d think it’s pretty good to be me. Which, big picture, it really is. But no matter how great my life is on the whole, like everyone else, I have a bête noir. Compulsive shopping is my drug of choice these days. There are no television programs for this kind of problem, no Intervention, no Celebrity Shopaholic Rehab with Dr. Drew (oh but that there were! *sigh* Dr. Drew!) no Dr. Phil House for overspenders. I realize that in the eyes of many this doesn’t seem like a “real” problem, I am not going to jail for it, and I am certainly not going to die from blowing thousands of dollars on handbags. However, in my life and in the lives of others at Debtaholics Anonymous, it is a VERY real problem.

Alcoholics drink to forget, crackheads hit the pipe, I hit the mall. Or, if it’s odd hours and I can’t sleep, the internet. The rush of finding something I didn’t know existed before and my concurrent, immediate need for said item is euphoric.

In my coming posts, I will look back through my past to see where this started, how it started, hopefully WHY it started, and I will chronicle my current attempt to fill my life with meaning instead of with stuff. I hope you will join me, as it should be, if nothing else, a pretty entertaining trip!