Trying to Understand ...

On September 27, 2008 I lost my very best friend to suicide. She lost her life because of a mental illness that came on suddenly and unexpectedly.

It's complex.

I am not proud to say that I really haven't visited her husband or girls as much as I should. Visiting them rouses up pain and memories that are almost unbearable. It's not their fault. It's my fault. My inability to face her loss and the circumstances of her loss. I guess I'm just a wimp when it comes to REALLY dealing with my emotions when it comes to Cim.

I feel as if I let her down. I feel as if I didn't listen close enough and do enough for her. Actually, I really believe it. When I see her girls and husband, I feel as if I let them down. I feel incredibly guilty. This guilt sometimes consumes me. Somewhere, deep in my thoughts, I think that if I would have dedicated myself to her, really listened better, loved her more, comforted her more, been in her presence more, maybe she would still be here. It's not a blame-game --- I don't think. It's just a "feeling responsible" feeling.

All her life, except for 7 months, Cim was well, strong, healthy and very happy.
She had a WONDERFUL life, a life that anyone would envy.

She loved her beautiful home, her handsome husband -who absolutely adored her and she was devoted to her two intelligent, successful girls who adored and respected her as well.

Cim loved sunning by the pool with a cold beer, singing off-key karaoke, and taking photos of every moment of her life. Her door was ALWAYS open. Friends came in and out all day long. If Cim saw a homeless person on the street, piss in pants, unshaven and down-and-out she would invite them over for a shower, dinner, beer and jacuzzi. She was just that special kind of lady. She rarely passed judgement. Everyone enjoyed her jokes and sense of humor. If we wanted breakfast, lunch or dinner Cim would have it ready and waiting. 6am eggs, toast and mimosa's, 12 pm polish dogs & a cold beer, 6pm roasted chicken & a glass of Chardonnay. She did it all. She absolutely LOVED life with a vengeance. Let me say it again. Cim LOVED life with a vengeance.

And then, suddenly, asome illness took her in its vice and just would NOT let her go. This invisible "monster" needled its way into her mind and dragged Cim into a dark, dark place and just would not release her. She fought very hard and she got very tired. She couldn't' find a moments peace; not in her mind and not physically. She could not eat, she could not sleep, she could not think, she could not live her daily life, she just .... could not. Cim was truly suffering.

She saw doctor after doctor . She was in the hospital many times. She just wanted her peace of mind back, she wanted to know why this happened to her and how to fix it. I don't think the doctors knew the answer. Their answer was just another prescription.

No one could give her an answer. Not any of the doctors not any of her loved ones...not me. I talked to her for endless hours on the phone promising that "this will pass". But in honesty, I was just hoping it would pass. I didn't know for certain. I was just trying to lend her hope. Maybe I was wrong in doing so.

I know that Heart Disease is called the "silent killer". But I have come to believe that the REAL TRUE "silent killer" is mental illness. It's silent because no one wants to say it out loud. Mental Illness! There is such an unfair stigma attached to it. Great minds succumbed to this disease in the past and continue to succumb to it today. There is so much unwarranted "shame" attached to mental illness. It makes me angry. People who suffer from this disease don't want to be sick. Like everyone, they just want to live calm, happy, healthy, peaceful lives. They are NOT crazy. They are sick, strangled, incapacitated, scared and desperate.

I know of some folks who will tell someone who is suffering from depression, anxiety or panic "Snap out of it!" Well I say to them...Would you tell someone suffering from cancer, MS, Heart Disease, or some other sort of disease to "snap out of it!"?

No! You wouldn't because there is medical understanding and known treatment of these diseases. MS = degeneration of the meylen, Cancer= fucked up cells, Heart Disease = disease of the valves.

Right now, science isn't advanced enough to assign a definite equation to Mental Illness. Someday we'll be there, but until then...It's just a stigma. A silent killer, a monster.

It's been really hard. I miss her every single day of my life.

I really want her back. I want her back for her husband and her daughters. And, I want her back for me. I want her back for HER. Back healthy and happy so she can enjoy her life as she once did.

Shepard's Pie

About a month ago I felt ambitious in the kitchen.

Kitchen Ambitchen...Am bitchin' in the kitchen, kitchen AMBITION!

I wasn't bitchin' in the kitchen, I had Ambition in the kitchen....

Okay, okay, enough with the word-play.

I decided to embark on an exploration of Shepard's Pie. Mmmmmm...yummers.

I did a little research and recipe hunting and found that Shepard's Pie can be made a gazillion different ways. There is no *authentic recipe*.

No Authentic recipe = creativity.

I browned up some ground lamb and beef, added a little rosemary, salt and pepper and simmered. Then I diced up some carrots and onion and added them to the pot. Then I added some frozen peas.

Cover and simmer, simmer, simmer.

The aroma was delightful.

I made a rue and added to the simmering stew, which resulted in a thick, yummy gravy.

I transferred the stew to a casserole dish, topped it off with a layer of mashed potatoes and baked till the taters were browned.

Oh lordy, gordy, was it ever delicious.

Michael said, "Baby you out-did yourself with that one!".

I think I'm feeling some "kitchen ambition" today!

Scratching My Head

What makes you feel loved?

Feeling loved is the best feeling in the world. Isn't it?

What makes ME feel loved? After all, this blog is all about me!

When he scratches my head.

Isn't that stupid? But I LOVE it. LOL!!

We're snuggled up on the couch, watching the food channel or American Idol.

We're not snuggled but rather squeeeeeeeezed on the couch. No matter--he's scratching my head!

It feels good. So good. It feels comfortable. So comfortable.

It feels right. So right.

Scratching my head.

It makes me feel loved.

It makes me feel loved by him.

It feels so damn good.

All of it.

Battle of the Sinuses

Ugh! My sinuses!

Just last week Mike and I were discussing his sinus pressure and pain. I told him that I could sympathize with him because I USED to have severe sinusitis yeaarrrrrs ago. I remembered the misery and was so glaaaad I haven't any sinus problems in yeaarrrrs.

Four days ago I woke up. I woke up at 2 am, 4 am and 5:30 am. My throat was dry and sore. Water! Gimme water!

My throat was dry and sore because I was breathing through my mouth all night. Breathing through my mouth because I could NOT breathe through my nose.

I am convinced that I jinxed myself. After all these years, I've got a sinus infection. And it sucks. Actually it BLOWS. Blows, blows, blows. I've gone through two boxes of tissues!

As you can see from the picture above, my bathroom looks like a pharmacy. I am diligently fighting the Battle of the Sinuses. I'm winning! I feel a little better today!

In my fight tonight, I decided to make myself a few cups of hot, soothing, tea before bed. I added a little touch of lemon and honey just for the "comfort factor". I was so tired.

Soooooooooo Tired.

That was THREE HOURS AGO.

Sunday Snuggles

This weekend I did NOTHING. I slept in late and enjoyed my thick, soft, comforting blankets wrapped around my body on a warm, Sunday morning!

I had nothing to do. NOT A DARN THING! Not only did I have those warm blankets wrapped around me but I also had the warmth of Mikes body. That to me, is THE MOST WONDERFUL way to wake up on a Sunday morning. He was sleeping and softly snoring. I love his soft snores. They comfort me.

So. I woke up and drove to Dunkin Donuts. I ordered a hot cup of coffee with skimmed milk. I came home, plopped on my couch and tuned into t.v.

He woke up. He laid on the couch and I squeezed, cuddled and snored with him for another few hours.

I had to go to the Drugstore to get sinus spray, tablets and Tylenol to treat my allergies. He offered to go but I was restless.

Once I got back home I snuggled again and then gained enough strength to make some semi-ok stuffed green peppers.

After chowing down I snuggled again. Zzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Mike had to catch the train to his apartment in the city. I drove him and said my good-byes.

I hate goodbyes.

They don't feel right.

They aren't right.

Especially after a day of Sunday Snuggles.

What I did today....

1. I woke up (that's a good thing!)
2. I made a pot of coffee (and drank it)
3. I logged into work and worked.
4. I followed my friend to the car mechanic and drove her back home.
5. I worked.
6. I went to visit my son Eddie and the dogs and enjoyed a Ceasar salad compliments of Eddie.
7. I worked.
8. I finished working.
9. I cleaned my stove and kitchen floor.
10. I made hummus.
11. I marinaded chicken tenderloins in peanut sauce.
12. I talked to Mike on the phone.
13. I picked Suzy up from the train.
14. I made grilled chicken, asparagus and potatoes and had dinner with my kids.
15. I watched American Idol.
16. I talked to my mother on the phone.
17. I poured a glass of wine.
18. I uploaded some photos on facebook.
19. I edited my latest blog.
20. I wrote this list.

Cim saves the Day...and Me

It was around Mothers Day about 15 - 20 years ago.

I'm not ashamed to say that at that point in my life I was going through a major, major depression. The shades were drawn. No sunlight could seep into my life; even if someone pulled the shades up on the sunniest of summer days. I was in the deepest, darkest, dampest basement of my life. No sunshine could seep in.

Cimmy lived far away in Kansas. She always wanted me to come to visit her but I didn't. I was afraid of airplanes and not confident enough to drive alone. She'd call me and I'd talk a few minutes but have to hang up because I was so depressed I couldn't concentrate on the call. I rarely called her. To be honest I wasn't a very good friend to her at that time. I am ashamed to say that. Even though she would get pissed off and not call me for awhile, she never, ever gave up on me. Never.

Back home in Indiana I was working my hardest to fulfill the role of wife and mother. Being a mother fulfilled me. If it weren't for my kids, I probably would have curled up into a ball and just died.

I don't think anyone could understand what being in a "dark, dark place" feels like unless they have been there themselves. It's just dark. And lonely.

Sooooo, anyway. It was around Mothers Day 15 -20 years ago. That's where I started and want to begin again.

I was a stay-at-home mom and my kids were in school. I had lots to do. LOTS! I was so tired and overwhelmed.

There were AT LEAST three days worth of dishes in my sink. Dishes sitting in cold, soapy, stinky water. Dishes overflowing onto the counter top. My stove was crusty; proof of three days of cooking - dried spaghetti sauce, pancake mix, dehydrated rice and peas stuck in the metal grates and a wooden spoon glued to the stoves surface.

My counter tops didn't boast one clear area. And, I remember very specifically, a bunch of shriveled, black bananas sat in a very expensive Longaberger basket.


The kitchen floor was sticky and the kitchen table was strewn with the mornings breakfast cereal bowls, mail, hair-ties, brushes, clothes....you name it. Basically, my kitchen was a total, catastrophic, dirty MESS.

The rest of my house equalled my kitchen.

That day I had two choices:
1. Go shopping to find my mother a Mother's Day gift.
2. Tackle the kitchen and the house.

I chose shopping for my Mom. The rest would wait till I came home.

Searching, shopping, looking for a perfect gift for my mom I pushed my cart up and down the aisles.
I remember dreading going back home.
I remember how much I didn't want to have to deal with piles of dishes, a dirty stove, floor and house.
I remember being pulled back into that deep, dark, damp basement in my mind.
Ugh! I didn't want to go back home.

But I did.

When I walked in my front door the smell of lemon-fresh Pledge filled my nostrils. I dropped the paper shopping bag and peeked into my living room. Holy Crapola! Everything was dusted and vacuumed. Spotless! I felt a rush of relief and excitement.

Suzy's bedroom was spotless with clean sheets and sparkling furniture. Eddies was the same!

Piles of clean, folded laundry sat on every ones beds!

Lo and behold my kitchen....MY KITCHEN was IMMACULATE! Not a dish in the sink! My stove look brand new!

A fresh bunch of bright yellow bananas sat perfectly in my Longaberger basket.

I could lick my kitchen floor it was so clean. And my table was clear.

Except for a note.


"Dear Chris,

I came in from Kansas and wanted to surprise you with a visit. You weren't home and I waited. I got bored. I thought I'd help you out a little bit and I sure hope you don't mind. Your house looks great (ha-ha).

I love you, hang in there. You are doing a good job. You are doing the best you can!

You are going to be okay. You will get better. I promise.

I love you always,

Cimmy"

I have read that note three thousand times. I just threw it out about two years ago and how I regret that now.

Walking into that clean house renewed me. It renewed my spirit and gave me the ounce of hope and PUSH that I needed. I'm not bull-shitting when I say that THAT very day was the day I started coming out of the darkness. That day I saw the light.

I always told Cim that and she laughed. She didn't believe me.

I realize what she never did. Cim was a bright ray of sunshine in everyone's life she touched. She had a special way of caring about people and making someone feel worth-while and loved. She had a very, very unique gift. And even more importantly she never expected anything in return. She was a "giver" not a "taker".

I believe Cim's light and spirit still shines on. I feel her presence in my life everyday.

In the daytime she is the stongest ray of sunlight lending warmth to my day.

In the night time she is the brightest star twinkling, winking and dancing in the sky.

She IS looking down on those she loves. Praising us and smiling down on us.

And she knows we are looking up, singing our praises and smiling back at her.