Sadness... is okay sometimes

I think I am okay allowing myself to feel sad sometimes. I guess it reminds me of my humanity and that deep down I feel more than I can say or put words too. Today it is more than sadness it is grieving too. It is acknowledging change and coming to terms with it. It is the internal struggle that wants to scurry around and put things back to the way they used to be before things started changing.

As of today, I think we have laid off 11 people from our Oregon operations. It is like death in a way; as long as it does not visit my back yard it is all okay. I am sure those I barely knew who are scrambling around in despair wondering how they will find gameful work in hard times are experiencing sadness too. It is not until someone close to you, your friends, get the visit from the ominous pink slip. We are sorry, long term employee, but like every other Oregon company, we are not experiencing growth like we had in recent years back and we will no longer be able to keep you employed here.

Although the pink slip has not fallen on my desk asking me to pack my few things into a box, I grieve for those who have lost. A lost job just a few years before retirement with no spouse to pick up the pieces. Sitting alone in their homes as night closes the day... wondering how long will what I have be taken from me; is it even possible to regain employment even if only for a few years before they can draw monthly social security checks. The dreadful fear that the life they lived, whether good or not, will change and be lived the same way it had. The questions fill their minds of "why" "why is this happening to me?" "what will I do" "how will this turn out" "what if I run out of money". I am scared for them.

I would not make a good manager. I love people more than I love money. I could never make the required hard decision. My head wants to feel anger. Why weren't younger people let go so my older friends could coast out until retirement. Is that fair and equitable for the company as a whole? I can not answer that question. I will not answer that question. To give an answer, I fear, might require that I begin to think more about company and less about people.

Oh Rob Smucker if you could hear me now. We are more alike than you know.

Bradycardia.....

I had my first EKG last Friday. I had 12 electrodes taped to my chest and then plugged into a machine for 30 seconds or less. Then the lab tech pulled each one of those 12 electrodes from my chest one at a time. It was like waxing my chest hairs or something. Grit your teeth and pull out chest hair; maybe there are bald spots.... LOL

My body seems wacked again. Trouble sleeping through the night, had nightmares and panic attacks in the night. Digestion is out of sorts so some days it is the boot scoots and then the opposite affect happens. Had chest pains that were unexplainable. Just all around crappy again; then I equal out for no reason. Off to the doctors. I made it out of that visit without having my prostrate checked. Gotta love that. Doc listened to my heart and listened and listene. Of course being the doctor he says nothing and I being unsuspecting just go along with the nothingness.

After the EKG was complete I am asked, by the tech, if I am an athlete. Well that is hysterical because I have never been an athlete. I do run three times a week but I that does not constitute being an athlete. Why? your heart rate is as slow as an athletes heart rate. Then she called it Bradycardia. Well what the heck is that already?

Anything under 60 bpm constitutes Bradycardia... I am beating at 48 bpm. Of course I have to go out to the internet to learn more. Sometimes more is too much. At the very least nothing will be done at the worst a pacemaker. Now that is scary stuff. The bradycardia could be a result of an underactive thyroid.

With all the said I am okay with whatever result. I just want to feel GOOD. Sometimes I can feel good all day go to bed wake up the next day and feel like crap. No one seems to want to listen and most want to say its psychosomatic. I dont want to hear that again and I dont want something seriously wrong either... just answers; that does not seem unreasonable.

Being worried wont help so I will just put it out of my mind for now....

Speak to my heart

I subscribe to a blog of an instructor I had at the local community college. She is blind but one of the happiest content people I know. She is an amazing woman and I could only dream of being as fulfilled at life as she is. I have A LOT of work to catch up to her. I know its possible.

I have copied a section from her blog. It goes like this....

Perfectionism Kills

At this point I realized for once and forever that I would never please this Voice inside me. Every time I succeeded, this Voice would just up the ante and I would be a failure again.

Obviously I only gave you a snippet. Actually this not just a snippet... it is a frigging two edged sword. After I laughed with her other dialogue, I was wiping the tears from eyes. This is exactly what happens to me. I get a leg up in life and all goes well then out of know where I get kicked back down from the voice of perfectionism. I never will measure up to the voice. If the voice only knew it was far from perfect.

The writer concludes by saying she sent her internal voice on a vacation and decided she was going to have fun. She turns every situation good or bad into a whimsical lyric or a big laugh or something light. She accepts that she will never be perfect but she will die trying being the best she can be. Wow someone else told me that not long ago. When we can accept our own imperfections and limitations, we also are more accepting of those around us that maneuver life differently.

When I am not content with myself and trying to please that unpleaseable voice, I expect others to live up to the unpleaseable voice too then no one wins, high drama follows and then comes the damage control. Wow all that can be avoided by just cutting myself slack to be myself. I am not perfect now or never will be. Time to move on.

I've tripped and can't seem to get up.

I lost a dear friend this week. I think it knocked me off my good space. I am not sure what or how it happened. I don't think I have allowed myself to grieve yet. But one thing I can say I am not in my good space. I miss it! I know I need to get up, but when I try my head and heart stay down. It's like I need a good shaking. Man somehow I have found that ability to get into a happy place and somehow I am not there and feel like I am kicking and scratching to get back and cant. Somehow I have figured out how to rise up quickly when I feel the earth sweep out from underneath me, but this week feels the camping week from hell 2008. I cant go back there... NO WAY. I have prayed "God HELP me"; I know He is there and I am reassured but the mind and heart are out of sync.

I hate this feeling of kicking and scratching. My family looks at me and knows I am not in a good space they talk amongst themselves then off to the family counselor. Then I am back to the family counselor. There is really nothing wrong with that except I want to be able to function and navigate this life now without tripping, falling and going backwards. I have spent my life stuck and broken; I dont want that for myself. I want better and I know that as one of God's kids, He wants better for me too.

It is time to come to grips with the grieving of Jean Ruddiman and get back to living. Time to sort out how that makes me feel and pick up the pieces, bring them to the feet of the father and know that He was/is the wounded healer. He is the only one who can take brokenness and make it beautiful again. I know I have let a lot of negative thinking back in this week about life, myself, family and it is time to clean house.

I am not sure which is harder to do when you are down.... getting up or staying down.

My dear cousin, Jean

I received some sad news today. One of my cousins will probably be overcome by cancer and will leave this earth soon. Jean has been in bed for a while and sleeps most of the time. She is barely hanging on to life but at this point, in this condition, life has nothing to offer her. I have never met Jean face to face, but I have shared some amazing emails that has given me the privilege to call her my friend not just my cousin. I met Jean by accident on Facebook. I thought she was somebody else and we became instant friends. Jean is old enough to be my own mom, but that does not matter to me. In her pain from her chemotherapy, she gave a huge part of herself to me in a time in my life where there was so much darkness. She gave me the liberty to share my "story" without fear or shame and still love me and give me hope in the end. That is what I needed so badly.

I would log on to my Facebook and there would be a wall post or a personal email waiting often 2 and three times a week. And they would be long posts. She talked as much as I do. Sometimes she would run out of space on a wall post and start another just so she could finish what she thought she need to share with me. She knew how badly I wanted to travel to Scotland. On one of her good days when the pain wasnt taking her strength, she and her husband, Walter, drove around Leslie taking digital photos. She made a special digital photo album of her shots and emailed it to me. I so appreciated her heart. Last Christmas she sent me a homemade Christmas card; it was so crafty.

Jean is a prayer. She told me she went out to the Labyrinth to pray for herself and her family and somewhere along the way through the maze, the Lord lead her to fervently pray for me, my wife and my kids. That was huge to me and I knew she was praying because God was listening and working in my life. I too prayed for her; believing for her healing; believing that she had more to do on this earth. Only God knows the length of a mans days. He decides when the length of our life is long enough. What a glorious day it will be when she gets to see her Heavenly Father face to face.

I am humbled and honored to be a part of Jeans life. I promised her that I would travel to Scotland to meet her face to face. I still believe I will get to keep that promise. I would board a plane tomorrow if money werent an object.

Love you Jean.