WHERE OH WHERE HAS SHE BEEN?

"OK, fine.  I read your last weird and whiny post about being all stressed out and stuff.  Join the club, by the way.  But what exactly is freaking you out so much?!? " 

Well, on top of everything else, I just minutes ago read that my name, Donna, has not appeared on the list of new baby names at Social Security (which keeps track of such things as popular baby names) since 2010.  And only sporadically before that, since it's heyday in the 50s.  See?  MIA!  Want to know were to go to find a few Donnas?  Retirement communities!

Yes, we are back to that topic. See previously published post in this blog, "Golden Years".  Since I wrote that post I have been immersed, nearly drowning, in all things related to Continuing Care Retirement Communities.  We hopped on the bandwagon and with an all-consuming abandon, visited seven places in about 6 weeks (some twice, so it was more than once/week schedule) where we were toured, wined (water for me), and dined by marketing reps to consider their community over the others.  

Actually it was much more pleasant than that.  Only one place had the "timeshare sales" feel.  The others were lovely, kind, friendly, understanding, and surprisingly non-competitive, even urging us to check out the competition so we could make the right choice for us.  We really enjoyed our visits and highly recommend getting "eyes on" at an in-person tour when it's your turn to consider this.  Websites and rankings don't begin to tell the story.  (The highest ranked placed is last on our list -- we won't live there; not for us.)

If you want details, and want to take a look at the library of literature and information I've collected, let me know.  Suffice to say, it was a DEEP dive and kept me up at night with floor plans and amenities and locations and entrance fees and monthly fees and ongoing care options and on and on, floating through my brain.  

The wait lists are years long so we have wait list deposits down on our favorite places with our #1 being the hoped for outcome.  I imagine we will wait for it, even if something else comes up first, but so much depends upon the unknown future.  What we do know is that we've moved our timeframe up considerably, and would probably move now if we could.  But we also have 43 years of sorting and disposing to do here, so maybe it's good we have a little time to get that accomplished.  So there's that.

Also, last summer I joined the Indivisible group in my county and quickly was recruited to be on the Admin Team -- sort of second tier leadership sometimes offering input to the Leadership team but more often being the "worker bees" for Leadership decisions.  I thought I'd get a nice and easy remedial education about local politics, a better understanding of State politics, and could rest easy and ignore my first love, National politics, because President Harris would have it well in hand.  

Instead, well, you know what happened. And people came out, some for the first time in their lives, to "do something".   Our membership went from about 350 (with around 25-30 attending our meetings) to now over 2300 members (with 150+ attending meetings and 100-4,000 attending rallies and marches and sign-waves).  We went from two meetings a month to four for awhile, with Admin meetings weekly instead of monthly and jilloins of emails in between with rapidly shifting plans and schedules. Everyone was pivoting with every new outrage trying to address the issues, contact legislators, input info on new members, organize meetings, set up rallies, get permits for marches, speakers, etc etc.  And suddenly my gentle foray into local politics became another occasion for demands on my time, frustration (grassroots, all volunteer orgs don't always run efficiently and without drama), overwhelm, and lost sleep.  So there was that.

In the midst, we had managed to schedule a couple of vacations to see family and friends in both the Southwest and Southeast parts of the country, which I now feel badly about cuz I was so tired and sick (a month of IBS and migraines), I couldn't really enjoy them as I'd hoped and they just seem slotted in rather standing out.  Glad I took photos.  But I do remember the family and friends gatherings with gratitude.

And then there are the heartaches and heartbreaks.  In this same time period we have had four close friends experience life-threatening medical emergencies, two we know on Hospice, and one sudden death of a beloved pet.  Shock and grief have also kept me awake.

All of this is just life, right?  But all of it is also very stressful, with the undercurrent of the daily attacks on our government and the rapid erosion of our democracy and rule of law and the constant drumbeat to fight back and at one point I had no fight left.  We who have the "highly sensitive/highly responsive trait characteristics" really struggle with the chaos of the unexpected and highly emotional.  I had to step down from my position with Indivisible; make my peace with knowing I couldn't be at bedside for everyone all the time; couldn't force those retirement joints to put me at the top of their waitlists; process that the whole CCRC investigation also brought up the loss and grief of moving from our home and focusing on our older, older years, which is a bit hard and sad; plus, I certainly couldn't save the Union single-handedly.   I had to humbly admit I was powerless, at least until I could recharge.

Some wonder why I'm so "easily" stressed when others can shrug things off and power on, but I offer that stress of any quantity is common, even "normal" I guess, but never healthy for extended periods.  And I get through without any drugs.  I don't use alcohol, don't use any sort of drug recreationally, don't use sleeping pills or Xanax or anything like that, don't chase dopamine highs in other ways (well, OK, I maybe ate some cookies, but I'm off that sugar thing now.)  I lost my meditation practice to the craziness, and missed too many yoga classes, and ditched my regular walks.  Not good.  Back at it now.

So, this Donna is returning slowly with more lessons learned about boundaries, the vagaries of growing older, the realities of what one person can realistically accomplish, the self compassion to let go of comparisons, and the renewed resolve to take care of little 'ol me.

Also....I have the happy stress of being an expectant Grandma.  In about 7 weeks we will welcome grandchild #3.  Son Two and lovely DIL have chosen to go old school and not learn the sex of the child, so names are still up in the air, but if they turn out to be a girl, I think reviving "Donna" would be a good choice.  I might be the fourth Donna (as I found out) at our #1 retirement place, but there won't be another in Kindergarten, I'll betcha.

At least, that's the view from here...©

Photo Credit: pixabay.com

M.I.A.

A first in the history of this blog.  Previously I might have gotten my post in just under the wire, but I have never missed at least one post a month since 2012.  Until now.  I've been Missing In Action, I guess.  

Yesterday around 6:00 p.m. I thought to myself, "Wow!  It's May 31st!  I have to sit down and get a blog post written before I go to bed!"  Then my kind, but inaccurate brain said, "No, it's OK.  You posted that thing about retirement communities just earlier in the month; you got one post in during May."  This morning I opened my blog software and.... WHAT?!?!?!  That Golden Years post was published on MARCH 31!  I have not missed one month, but two!

This is a bit unsettling.  They say "time flies" but don't you agree that as we grow older, time has a cruel way of not just flying but disappearing?!?  The days start with such unbroken promise on a vast expanse of timeless opportunity, then suddenly it's bedtime and I'm wondering how hours can seem like minutes.  

Also, stress....

So, here's the thing:  I've been in a whirlwind of slight and not so slight mental, emotional, and physical messiness (which I like much better than "illness").  I don't know about all of you, but some of you may be able to relate to this:

We go along living life in a normal way, taking on some extra tasks that seem totally manageable, then maybe take on another thing or two, then some other stuff happens, then we feel a wee bit stressed and possibly super tired and overwhelmed, but we think that's just temporary and soon it will be better and then maybe we don't sleep very well and cry all the time and don't really want to do the stuff we committed to because the expectations changed, and then friends and family face crises of various degrees that we want and need to attend to and offer support and assistance, then add maybe a couple of planned-long-ago (before any of this other stuff started to snowball) with-airfare-and-lodging-already-paid-for-so-can't-cancel vacations crop up on the calendar, so we pack our bags and plaster on a smile and head to the airport and realize that it's been a month of needing to be pretty darn close to a restroom at all times (even on said vacations) since a very insistent flare of stress-induced IBS (you've seen the commercials) has taken root in our guts and maybe a migraine or two has laid us low and did I say we cry all the time?  And who has had time for regular yoga and meditation practice? And it's been raining a lot so daily walks have become sporadic and there's nothing good on TV, but thank god for crocheting and cozy mysteries on the Kindle during those long insomniac nights.  But also we feel joy and love and excitement and gratitude and appreciation so it's all very confusing and complicated.  Oh, and we lose track of time and don't get our blog posts written for TWO FRIGGIN' MONTHS!  Please tell me you can relate.  

A parade of therapists and internists (also Hub, and also my gal-pal of nearly 40 years) have told me when I get like this, and yes, it's happened before, I need to STOP.  Step back.  Have some compassion for myself as a highly sensitive empathic person and realize I cannot save the world, nor anyone in it, nor can I see the future and plan for every eventuality, nor can I even have a future if I let stressed out messiness have the upper hand.   

I really and truly love the image of myself as a calm and capable person, yoga-ing my way through each present moment with a half smile on my face and an "om" in my heart.  And part of me IS that person.  But humans are complicated.  We forget and get stressed out; we default to old ways of "coping" (sugar binges). We carry a sack of past traumas with us wherever we go and sometimes that load weighs us down and we forget we have the tools, the wherewithal, to put that damn bundle down, kick it aside, and breathe.

For the past couple of weeks I've been slowly reclaiming breathing, sleeping, and smiling again.  Yoga and meditation are back on the schedule.  I'm walking more (but will be better when it's not so rainy).  My gut-body has stopped responding to a vagus nerve gone insane and is now settled into a more "regular" state.  The crying is only as is socially appropriate, not over every little thing that touches my heart in a bittersweet way, such that birds in flight call for a good cry.  Sheesh!

So, dear readers, I am back to the preferred version of myself.  And I know that's true because I also know that using the word "preferred" there is to deny my full humanity.  Yes, there is that "all is good all the time" core of being in all of us, but the messy humanness where that Spark of Life lives (and maybe feels trapped for now) is also part of the deal.  That Inner Watcher gets to calmly observe this human person go all crazy every once in awhile and just wait patiently for her to learn the lessons she needs to learn (over and over) until she calms the  hell down and is able to see clearly again that life is nuts while we are in it and eventually we might learn that it's all impermanent, a swirl of random thoughts, molecules, insubstantial "stuff" that will disappear just like the hours of each day, into the vast open space of .... I don't know.  I just hope to be more present to its unfolding than I've been lately, because that is part of my preferred self too.  

At least, that's the view from here...©