You have your mother's eyes!

Usually when someone tells me that I look like another family member, I smile politely. I'm usually glad for the comparisions to loved ones that make me "me".

But when a former neighbor said I have my mother's eyes--meant as a compliment--I got a little sick to my stomach.

I don't want her eyes, not the eyes I remember. Her eyes as I remember them were empty. Those were the eyes that convinced my sister and I that our brother has that dreaded gene on Chromosome 4. We told each other "his eyes are like mom's were." Empty, as if the soul was gone.

It's one of the nasty things about Huntington's disease. The empty eyes. I want my eyes to be full of life, full of light, full of sparkle. Like I hope hers were before.

She's been gone for 10 years, I've lived 10 years without a mother. She was showing earlier symptoms by my age. Signs that were obvious after the fact, but subtle and easy to miss if you didn't know what to look for. We didn't know what to look for.

My sister is five years older, and shows no signs of the disease. I've breathed a sigh of relief for her.

Some days, I'm tempted to sigh in relief for me too--but then I remember how easy those early signs were to miss. So I won't exhale quite yet. But the sparkle is still in my eyes.

Where's my mojo?

I keep wondering where I've gone. I haven't regretted stopping therapy a few years ago, and I think I have better body image than ever, but I'm as fat as I ever was at my highest weight, working more hours in a physically, mentally, and emotionally demanding job. And I've been getting sick. A lot. And my foot is killing me. It's time to get back to basics...

1. Journaling was the best thing that came out of my therapy. I've said it again and again. Still, at times it's a struggle. It's hard to see my words and feelings written down. It's hard to re-read them. But when I do, it's self-validating. I read it, remember what I was feeling and thinking, and think "that's not so bad!" But then I won't right anything for a while and it ends up coming out as word vomit. Time to do this more, to avoid the word vomit.

2. Self cares: Good points: I've spent about $600 on clothes and shoes this summer. I've spent another $300 or so on self-beautification at the spa. Bad points: I wait too long to do these services. I would be better cared for if I did these things in smaller $$ amounts, on a more regular basis.

3. Church: We've joined a new one, I love it, but I have issues. It forces us to spend more time with MIL, who I love and adore. It chews up a good part of my Sunday and it seems like I'm missing the day somehow. I think there are old issues here re-surfacing in a weird, unhealthy way.

4. Pain issues: I found out this spring that at some point, I really should have reconstructive surgery on my foot. I don't want to. So I'm taking pain killers, which help a lot. My headaches are virtually gone.

5. Family issues: My brother continues, of course, to deteriorate. His wife is a psychotic bitch who told my sister she prays we get huntington's disease. We have no contact. I'm not all that sad, but do wish I could have a united family. One that isn't crazy. So my only real family outside of my marriage is my sister's. I love her dearly and at times wish I lived closer. It would be fun to pop over for dinner, meet up with them and my Dad for lunch, occasionally babysit for her kiddos.

6. Wife and Marriage issues: My poor husband deserves a much better wife. I work a minimum of 40 hours a week, more like 50-60. Add in drive time back and forth and orientation at the hospital and I'm tired. A lot. Which leaves no time for #1 or #2, and even less time for sleep. Which makes me a pretty absent wife. This feeds into all sorts of fears that he'll leave me. I wouldn't blame him a bit.

My garden looks like how I've been feeling, chaotic and full of weeds. Nothing is growing. It's stagnant and so am I. My focus these last months has been to keep our heads (financially) above water and to build my career. I want to advance and learn as many skills as possible. First, to be a better more knowledgeable nurse. Second, because that's just how I am. I want to be the best I can be. While I love working at the LTC/TCU, and I have grown to enjoy my PT home care job, these are the two least respected areas of nursing. Not sure why, but it's true. Neither is easy, but both are considered the bottom rung of the ladder. If my pay was better at the LTC, I would probably be content to stay. However, there is little room to grow and that would eventually cramp my style too. So I found a local hospital that was hiring, and I'm enjoying it. I'm finding myself very different from my preceptors in that they are content in their small-town hospital. One says "I'm a med surg girl through and through." I'm not. I want to learn it all. After going through college once and coming out with a very limited set of skills, I don't want to be limited again...that is also part of my motivation.

The cost has been high, and my personal mojo is gone. My list making, all the things I used to get done in a day--gone. At work, I hate sitting still. I want to be productive and busy. I constantly think about beloved and coming home to him, but once I'm home can barely interact with him. It's enough to just have him near. I need him near, and draw strength from him. But I look at him and have a hard time figuring out where to start or what to say. All I have to talk about is work.

It's taken a toll on my immune system. I'm constantly sick, which affects my sleep, which I desparately need. I used to love to cook and just don't have the energy to do so anymore. So I eat crap and junk. This is not helping my weight or my immune system. I have no energy to work out--so I'm not sleeping well and of course it's affected my weight. The constant sick has affected my weight too.

I want, I want, I want...so many things. I want to take care of my house the way I used to. I want to take care of my garden the way I used to. I want to take care of my husband and myself the way I used to. I want my mojo back so I can work out and play hard, and have fun with my husband again.

I miss myself.

Growing up with Huntington's

I've been reading a lot of what other people think of the Duggar family recently. Like Tom Cruise, this is a family I love to read about, and love to pick apart. Religious extremists are always people to watch out for, IMO, and this family, while seemingly harmless bothered me for a lot of reasons. The first is, it's a stab at my own infertile self. I actually thought that was the main and REAL reason. Now I've realized that's not it at all. It's actually that I think the older children are way too parentified, and this I can relate to. If you asked me in high school if I thought I had too much responsibility, I probably would have said yes. But I also would have quickly followed up with "I don't mind, my family needs me." I came across to most people as a well adjusted child, polite, with more manners than most, and very responsible. I was the good child. I had good grades, could be trusted not to go out and drink (that they knew of), didn't smoke, didn't have sex, and in fact didn't date at all (that my parents knew of). I dressed fairly preppy, another parental plus.

I also did laundry, vaccuumed, dusted, did dishes, cooked, mowed the lawn, weeded the garden and did a lot in the barn. Without being told. As my mother's health went down hill, I just picked up more of the 'slack'. Mom still did plenty, but I did a lot too. I don't think my father even noticed, other than the barn work. When mom couldn't milk, dad bemoaned the fact but didn't give me a parental lecture about helping the family during times of need. I just DID IT. A good trait to have in a teenage child, true?

Yet, looking back I also realize that this was not the way it should have been. My parents should have directed my work, should have looked to outside help, or my adult siblings for this sort of support. I still think what I did was right; but I think what they did was wrong. Even if we would have hired help, I know I would have had to do more--and that's not the issue. The fact that as "the good daughter" I laid aside my teen years and shouldered adult responsibilities while enabling my father's emotional weaknesses is the problem.

That's why I get bugged abou the Duggars. The kids do what I did, and the parents encourage it. It's not right for kids to shoulder adult responsibilities. Ever. As they get close to adulthood, they should be taught how to run their own home--I'm all for raising adults and not children. I doubt they'll move out until they have a spouse in tow, and that spouse is in for a serious shock.

After moving out, depression hit me like a bullet between the eyes. My purpose, the feeling needed was gone. Mom wanted me to leave, I don't think she wanted me to see her decline. I wandered and struggled for so long after that. After beloved and I moved in together I tried so hard to please him, I wanted everything to be so perfect...I wanted to have that purpose again. It wasn't healthy, I had a hard time forming my own identity. I marveled at how at ease he was with who he was--his likes and dislikes. Mine were so diminutive, always involving wifely type things. I don't think there is anything wrong with wifely things. I do see the unhealthy behavior as being that I thought I was supposed to be focused solely on that and NOT on my own personal, separate from beloved interests.

It's all very confusing, even now. Again, I'm amazed he stuck with me and wanted ME. He truly is my best friend. Even after meeting my family, especially my mom, and knowning that could be me someday.