CAN YOU THROW SHOES AND STILL BE ZEN?

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When I first moved in with my parents four years ago I felt like one raw nerve. Pretty much anything could set me off, and did. Moves are stressful. Most of my stuff went into storage. Some of my stuff that was supposed to go to FL went into storage and vice versa. Finding my things became my enemy. Pretty much anytime I needed anything it ended with me not finding it, and closing the door to my room to have a long cry. Nothing was where it was supposed to be. It seemed like this happened daily. You can only go on like that for so long before you hit a place of acceptance or denial. I don't know which one I hit, but the crying stopped and I just chilled out abut the whole thing. Whenever someone asked for something I hadn't seen in a long time, they got the shoulder shrug and a "beats the hell out me" answer. That may not have served me all that well in some cases. For instance, I only got my 2006 taxes done last year, but I am now caught up. The important thing was I knew I couldn't keep pace with that level of anxiety. I was already one big migraine and that was not helping my recovery. I had to learn how to let go.

So, what's up nutterbutter? Why this blog if you're all zen now? I'm losing my zen. I've been trying to hold on to it all day long, but I'm at tolerance right now. I'm really close to throwing things. I am not sure what comes after that. I've been avoiding the cry because they give me the worst sinus headache. Have you ever had a sinus headache and a migraine at the same time? Misery, let me tell ya. I prefer throwing things, like shoes.

Here's the deal. I'm not very organized. Say what? I know. It's crazy. I live in this tiny, little room and it's chaos in here. I really should be institutionalized for that alone. Who does that? Me. So, I have this really horribly expensive medication just lying in the morass of junk on the right side of the bed that no one sleeps in. Since no one sleeps there, I think it should be functional. Therefore, it harbors my stuff. It got thrown into the heap when my mom picked it up for me at the pharmacy, and it only got pulled out today because today was when I NEEDED it.


Here's the part that turns me into the maniacal bag lady pushing her shopping cart down Main Street: the bag was open and my pills were gone. Huh? It is a mystery. I have zero recollection of opening the bag, so I also don't remember touching the bottle, ergo I have NO IDEA where my pills are. I NEED MY PILLS DAMMIT. I didn't go to crazy quite that quickly when this first happened. I was actually still pretty cool. I cleared all the debris off the bed first thing. Smart, right? No pills. I moved everything from around the bed. Nothing. I looked under the bed. There's actually nothing under there. I was shocked. Moving on... By now, I have started doing some praying. Serious asking for help. I go to the bathroom, just in case I took the bottle in there, and actually put it away and forgot. Nope. It isn't there. I decided to backburner it and calm down.

An hour later my mom gets home and we do the same routine with a flashlight. I can feel myself starting to lose it. We stop. I tell her to pray about it; perhaps God is just not listening to me today, but her prayers might get through. I wait a few hours and go again. This time I am pissed. It is a SMALL ROOM. I have asked several times and those pills are not being given. I need those pills. I can't just say, "Oh well, when they turn up it will all be good" like I did with my CDs and other material stuff.

I can feel myself about to melt down. I decide to listen to a meditiational CD. It is either that or throw things. CD it is.

It is now one and a half hours later from the initial writing (meaning everthing you just read). We have eaten dinner and my stepdad has been brought up to speed on the missing meds. So, after dinner he did a thorough sweep of my room and bathroom and came up empty-handed. I go back to the last bottle of pills that I do have. It is dated December. I go to the bag that I do have. It is dated January. Holy tomoly. I didn't pick up my February prescription. And my forgetfulness about taking my medication is actually working for me instead of against me. What are the odds???? BTW, I just recently added this med to the list of "meds I write down because I can't remember if/when I take them."



So, my stepdad is at the pharmacy right now getting my prescription filled and my mother is convinced that the "lost" bottle will turn up where we least expect it. I will let you know if/when/where that happens. Ooooh. My Zen is back and it feels sooooo good.