The Shed 9

a reply to: Martin75

I agree we do see eye to eye Jess! And this, " that would be an insult to the pig!" Is SPOT ON!!!
CatchYa later...

Howdy. How is everyone?

a reply to: Skid Mark
I'm good. Just migrating servers and surfing the net. How are you doing today? How is that pup doing? Getting active yet?

a reply to: Martin75
I'm okay. The pup is fine. I've been taking her outside to potty. She's very playful.

Migrating servers sounds like fun.

a reply to: Skid Mark
Yeah OK if you say so. About as fun as getting teeth pulled. LOL


OK guys time to head home. Woohoo!! Hold down the fort and I will see everyone this evening. I hope everyone has a great finish to their days.

a reply to: Macenroe82

I have a metal festival to go to in August, so hopefully I will get my bloodlust for life back somewhat, during that period.

Hi my Shed Friends,

I saw some recent posts via the peripheral vision of reading another post -- that was on page 4 of the last Shed, just this morning!!!! - whose link was sent via a PM. I haven’t had the time to spend on ATS lately. For a while I would run in and say “Hi. Bye,” but it seems that one can only say that so many times before it becomes intrusive. So, I would take a peak privately here and there, and I still do, but I found myself so longing to be a part of these sometimes absurdly and seemingly useless posts, and yet out of the blue, I will find myself overwhelmed at the depth of expression of love and longing and loneliness and pain, sometimes expressed — and sometimes gone unnoticed.

I learned years ago to self-observe. Not in the narcissistic sense but more along the lines of “Know Thyself” which I have learned to appreciate as leading to “Know ThySelf.” This has become a constant adventure into the unknown, and sometimes seemingly unknowable. I still smile at something I read a very long time ago: “The first rule of Magic is ‘Get to know your rabbit.’” It took years to realize that I am the rabbit that being a Magician refers to. But we never seem to start there. We start by watching others, never suspecting that by observing others, we observe ourselves, and vice versa…Sorry, don’t know where that came from.

Anyway, there are a few things I’ve been wanting to say to a few of you, and I’ve decided to just do it. But after writing for hours, I have only managed to address two...I'm disappointed in myself because I wanted to tell Night and Marty how great you are, but with a few more convincing words, and I had something I wanted to say to SkidMark, but now I've forgotten! Damn...

Fishy

a reply to: Quantum12

My heart momentarily broke when I read about the Dear John letter you woke up to.

I first became aware of you when I saw something you had posted months ago that caused some alarms to go off, that you probably remember, along with my humorous attempts to calm things down. This was my first impression of you and I am so glad that I didn’t leave it at that. Later, when your friend died, I got a true glimpse of the pure gold within your heart. And later still, a few weeks ago when you found this little gem of a sweet heart, my own heart was so full of secret gratitude that went unexpressed by me. I wanted to add my own congrats to your little romance, but you seemed so well covered by everyone else in the Shed, that it felt that my little note would only bring attention to myself instead of to you, so I just “smiled big time” for you in my heart.

But now, reading this morning about that note, oh dear, I am heartbroken for you, and this time I do want to let you know. But at the same time, to observe your response — not reaction, but response — to this unexpected outcome has raised the bar of my admiration for you yet another peg. I thought I recognized gold when I saw it, but there are indeed different Karats involved. You are a shining example of a higher grade of metal, that I failed to see when I first laid eyes on you.

I can only add that I suspect that this experience was a dress rehearsal for something way more special in the future, whether with the same lady or with someone even more special, whose metal is also being secretly polished. In the mean time, surely you know how much you are loved by your Friends in the Shed.

a reply to: JustMike
And that brings me to Mike…

Wow. You are loved! How I long for a fraction of that! I was moved by something that you are beginning to discover, and once again it brings me to a new appreciation of the Journey that we are all on, both apart and together. It occurred to me that when we are on the same Journey, it is easy to believe, falsely, that we see the same Landmarks along the way. Today I realized that we miss an opportunity for deeper understanding when we don’t notice the opportunity to take a deeper look at something seemingly “obvious to everyone” that might just be only obvious to one of us. Two people can have the same experience but have completely different outcomes from it, and this morning I found myself questioning if perhaps there might be — wait for it — an important but unseen catalyst that might be in one experience that is not present in the other.

As you privately know, I went through something very similar to what Dada is going through, only in my case we knew the cause so I had some sense of what needed to happen. In reflecting on the parallels between my experience and hers, I realized that I have been spending much of my time focusing on the similarities, but I have failed to focus on the differences, and this morning I had an unverified Aha! moment, which I am bringing to the forefront on this platform, since a few are following what you have shared so briefly earlier. This has to do with the idea of her having her real consciousness being trapped in a dysfunctional brain. No one knows this experience better than I do. But this morning I realized a possible difference between us. Actually two, that I hope I can get out clearly before I lose my own ability to focus.

One of the differences between our experiences was that I never suffered from delusions and so I was wondering why her and not me, or vice versa. In my case, there were three different parts of my brain that were, and remain, affected and unusable, so if anyone should have had delusions, surely it was me. But, duh, I think it has to do with the actual part of the brain that is affected AND also a slight difference in our individual Journey. I will get back to this idea…

One of the similarities between us is something that I did not know about until this morning when you shared your post. It had to do with your little experiments of asking about the day of the week and then the ability to figure out what day and date yesterday was. That was genius, Mike, and you reminded me of something I need to share with you. When I was first poisoned, I knew instantly that something was wrong. Everyone did. But everyone thought that it had passed. The next day, I was walking across the room and it felt like I had suddenly begun to fall to the right, but I had quickly corrected my balance. It was very subtle. I paused over that and then assumed that I had imagined what had just happened. But a couple of days later, I was walking across the room again, and it ever so subtly repeated, but this time my friend and assistant from work was walking behind me and he exclaimed, “Whoa! What was that?” He saw it. And the next day still, this repeated, but this time my husband witnessed it. So, the good news was that I knew I wasn’t imagining this, but the bad news was that no one knew what to make of it, and I did have a very busy business to run, so this went onto the proverbial back burner. But soon the tremors began (I didn’t know about Dada’s tremors) only no one believed me unless they happened to be near by when my foot would begin to bang on the side of the desk, as if it were possessed like Linda Blair for a few moments, as it would bang against the desk quite violently, even though I could not feel anything at all. But this was so bizarre that even though nothing was said, I still think that the people around me were thinking that I was somehow doing this myself for the dramatic effect of it all. But inside I was completely terrified. The odd thing is the human impulse to maintain the status quo, even if you have to fake it, and if you can’t fake it, then you instantly pretend that it didn’t just happen. Again, this is so easy to do when the phones are ringing and you have payrolls to meet.

The thing that no one realized, including me, was that it was not just my motor skills that were affected. My very ability to think was affected, but even I couldn’t truly appreciate what was happening, and this is where I want you to pay attention to what I am saying, because this is one of the things we appear to have in common…

I used to be a nice person. Yes, some would say I still am, but not me. I’m only a shadow of my former self. Before my eyes would sparkle all the time and everyone could hear the love in my voice. After the poisoning I was becoming upset all the time, to the point that I was now snapping at my employees. This was so unlike me and I could see the surprised and hurt look on my staff, but no one was more surprised that I was. After this had happened a few times, I began to observe myself like a hawk, to try to discern what was wrong with this picture. The only thing I could discern was that just before I was snapping at them, I had been trying to put the medical records that were stacked on my desk into alphabetical order. Prior to the poisoning, I would do this in a flash, while speaking to a vender on the speaker phone and simultaneously watching a drop of live blood on the microscope, while chomping on a cookie and catching every crumb before it hit the desk. But now I couldn’t put three records into alphabetical order. I found that rather odd. I just assumed that I was burned out from the stress and tried harder and harder to focus.

It was two years later, during some neurologic testing, as I had been progressively getting worse, that I was given an odd test that told me nothing but explained everything. The page had a bunch of numbers randomly placed on it and I had to connect the numbers with a line…Piece of cake….but then on the next page, there was a bunch of numbers and letters randomly placed on the page. The goal was to connect the line via alternating numbers and letters: Start at 1, then draw the line to A, then draw the line to 2, then draw it to B, then 3, then C, etc. I smiled like a little kid and again thought “piece of cake” but for the life of me, Mike, I could not get past 2. I easily managed to draw from 1 to A to 2 to…to….to….let me try that again….1 to A to 2 to….

In fact, as I am reliving that moment, I think that this was when the now occasional sparkle went out of my eyes. I had no idea that I had become so instantly stupid. Unlike Dada, in my case I knew how it happened, but this was of no consolation. When hope dies, it dies. Dead is dead. I realized that I was more of a vegetable than even I could have imagined. For me this was a turning point. On the one hand, I felt it best if I just took my own life so that I would not be the obvious burden that I did not realize that I had become. But on the other hand, I did have just a tiny drop of faith, by virtue of the fact that I was even still alive, as the experts had already written me off for dead.

In our clinic, years earlier, I had coined a motto, that I now had to live for myself: As long as there’s a pulse, there’s hope.
(except for this post that just hit the limit, so I'm hoping I can paste an unexpected Part 2...)

...to JustMike, a continuance...
But here’s the deal, Mike. And right now, I am wondering if I should be limiting this to a PM, only I hope you will agree with the generosity of spirit that someone else might also benefit by what I have to say. I am sure that 99.9% of the readers have quit reading this after the first paragraph, if at all, but there might be just one other person who is also going through this or knows someone who is. I want to get past the interesting similarities to now focus on the subtle differences that may have been the catalyst to the obvious outcome, as I am no where near the vegetable I once was…

For one thing, I had hope. I am convinced that without hope, nothing is possible. And trust me, that hope didn’t come from the people around me. They were already treating me differently and actually trying to hide their bitterness towards me, as I was no longer carrying my own weight and they were going through their own various stages of grief right before my eyes. I think this is the worst part of a mental or neurological condition is that it truly affects everyone, albeit in different ways.

I don’t know Dada well enough to know if she has hope, but the bits you share would suggest that she does. What matters big time is that she sees hope in your eyes, but hope tinged with conviction, not fear. I think that this is the difference perhaps between hope and faith. I just knew and I continue to believe that everything is possible, except for those things that we have determined are not. The irony is that even those things that we deemed are not possible, are still possible, but we put up invisible barriers that we ourselves are unaware of. I think that we inadvertently, and way more often than we realize, render the seemingly impossible still literally possible but highly unlikely. The cool thing is that the opposite is also true. With hope or faith in the impossible, we knowingly or unknowingly break down invisible barriers that can separate us from such miracles. We become unconscious catalysts in our own futures.

I’m feeling the guilt of writing too many words. But I am also not done, so I will boldly continue, even if my efforts are graded on a curve, screaming back at me with zero stars…

I was speaking about the subtle differences between Dada’s experience and my own, and there is a HUGE, not so subtle difference that I didn’t see until this morning, when I was contemplating the huge twisted oak trees that live within and beyond my beautiful back yard. I read something years and years ago, which is code for the fact that I have long since forgotten the source, but I suspect it was Dion Fortune. Anyway, the idea was an old analogy of how certain things manifest. The concept was that when something takes a certain path, and then that path is repeated, it creates just that, a path. And if this path is repeated again, it takes on the beginnings of a groove. At first, this path is variable, but as it becomes a groove, it becomes more likely that it will be followed, and as it deepens and widens, it can eventually become very difficult to follow any other path. I had always likened this to the pathways in our brains, but somehow, contemplating these great twisted oaks, I saw the similarity to the thought pathways within our brains. And if one of those branches are to break off or otherwise die off, then the tree will develop other branches to eventually fill in the same space. The issue is that this takes time, and so such magnificent growth will often take place unnoticed.

For me, I had two tools in my toolbox, if you will, that I wonder if Dada has. One was incredible faith, even if it had never been so tested and often failed at. But I just kept starting again. And I am assuming that Dada has this. BUT, I also had that concept of the ability of the brain to regroup and to grow other pathways to the parts no longer accessible, even if the concept was in abstract form.

Mike, I’m just thinking, or writing out loud here, but I am wondering…could Dada’s delusions be sort of a way of falling into a familiar groove or set of grooves within her brain, quite simply and literally for lack of another or a better idea? I’m wondering if “there but for the Grace of God go I” in that I did have another idea to focus on, as difficult as it was.

Freud said two things, and only two things, that I very much agree with. One is that when we are under stress, we regress. I think that this is because we sort of go back and hide in a time more familiar since we sometimes don’t know how to cope with the new and uncomfortable unfamiliar. AND we can unknowingly feed each other’s regressions, as our unexpected reactions will cause stress in the people around us, who now will themselves digress in their own little ways, and so it volleys back and forth in ways we don’t see. We would see this in our clinic all the time. People who were under a lot of stress would inadvertently pass it on to their pets, who would then become agitated or afraid (fight or flight) and behave differently, and they would eventually become sick, which would cause even more stress to the owners who were unaware of this pattern, and it would feed back and forth until the pattern was broken.

Quantum is a beautiful example of the rare individual who does not seem to regress under stress. And this is indeed very rare. Thank God for people like that to be an example to the rest of us. Another example is our beautiful Woody, but I can’t go there right now or I will be overcome with grief, when I am almost done here. In fact, it is that ability to compartmentalize and focus that was part of what saved me. And you speak of Dada’s brilliant mind, so we must not underestimate her ability to do the same.

And this brings me to the other thing that Freud said: Time does not exist in the subconscious. This is a mixed blessing. On the one hand, it can explain her current delusions, but I did feel that this was reversible and you are now proving and living that theory. The good blessing in what he said is that this is indeed the light at the end of the tunnel, that would suggest that this brilliant mind that you still cherish in her, is indeed still there. We just need to nourish that garden so that the branches will grow out again as healthy as can be.

I want to stress the importance of being and remaining positive, while allowing yourself the occasional doubt and associated regressions. Just remember to start again and again. AND allow her the freedom to experience that occasional regression, knowing and believing that this is just a temporary reprieve. Every day see her — and yourself — with new eyes. If need be, every hour. New branches, be they magnificent oak trees or magnificent brain pathways, don’t grow overnight, but the need to nourish them never ceases.

(Dang! This was longer than I realized...please accept my apologies to everyone for taking up so much room with a Part 3!...)

(the last bit to Mike, I promise...)

Mike, as a writer, you have the amazing ability to see things through multiple eyes. Put this to work for yourself. Let your life imitate your art. Find the challenge in making every moment positive. Rather than telling Dada that her grey hair doesn’t look so bad, consider saying, “I had no idea how beautiful your silver hair is. Why have you been hiding it? Didn’t you know how beautiful it is? I can’t wait for it to grow out! I am already imagining you with beautiful silver ear rings to go with it! I am certain that they will make your eyes sparkle in new and beautiful ways and show off your beauty for everyone to see.”

And keep things as simple as possible, for both of you. You want to stimulate her brain but you don’t want to frustrate it. Even after 10 years, I still can not put things into alphabetical order, and damn it, that super sucks. Neither can I ever find where I last put something. But that doesn’t mean I have dementia, even though those doctors that wrote me off would like to think so. It just means that this particular part of my brain is not as accessible as it used to be. But the rest of it is amazing!

What I have come to learn, that probably applies to Dada also, is that I can deal with two things but not three. In fact, I learned about this in a most humorous way. I was trying to cook something on the stove and I needed two egg whites. I had broken two eggs into a dish and scooped the yolks into my hand, when the food on the stove began to burn. I had to stir the pot, but I needed two hands to do this with, as one hand had to hold the spoon, and one had to hold the pot — but I had these two egg yolks in my hand and I didn’t know what to do with them, as my effort to either hold the spoon with that same preoccupied hand or the pot, were both failing miserable, so I just had a breakdown on the spot. I knew I was in a predicament, but I couldn’t figure out how to get out of it. I looked about the counter rather frantically for a place to put the egg yolks but none of the dots were connecting for me and the pot was now needing way more attention than the idea of where to put the egg yolks did. It wasn’t that I couldn’t think. No, I was thinking too fast but none of it was useful because I didn’t know that I could only connect two dots at a time now and I desperately needed three — and so a new logic entered the picture, which was the realization that I needed to lose those damn egg yolks immediately. I could almost hear Hitchcock’s “Psycho” music of eek-eek. I quickly looked about again and noticed that the kitchen window was open so without thinking, I instinctively threw those two yolks out the window — but I forgot that there was a window screen! I can still remember that moment of panic and time going into slow motion as I remembered about the screen, just two inches before the yolks hit it with a most impressive splat. Inside, the shock was turning to laughter, especially when I saw the way my astonished husband had turned to look at me with an open mouth, in incredible disbelief. Even now, I laugh when I remember it.

Again, that ability to observe oneself. As funny as that event was, it wasn’t so funny during the subsequent years, when I would find myself still having a melt down, every time I found myself with three things in my hands. This affects me to this day. The only pattern I noticed was the feeling of familiar frustration, that I had to ever so slowly reverse engineer, so that now, when I find myself frustrated and also realize that I have three things in my hand, I immediately cut myself some slack and I am able to calm down immediately and focus on “losing the egg yolks” in a less creative way.


I remember when you wrote once that Dada had been putting clothes on the bed trying to decide what to wear and she seemed to be having some trouble wth it. You might experiment with Dada by giving her choices, but only two at a time. Use her eyes as your road map. I feel pretty certain that she will have no trouble making a choice between two things, and this might surprise both of you, especially if you take it slow and let this be a mutual discovery that will be enriching for both of you.

I’m done.


Fishy

a reply to: ClownFish

Your so kind and I thank you. I Understand there is nothing I can to or attempt to do to have her back. No flowers nothing because I did nothing wrong. She decided to go back with her ex and I wish her the best.

If she wants me back I would have to know in her heart she is done with her ex and I will let her know she can't have her cake and eat it too. Lol

a reply to: ClownFish This was a very wonderful and caring letter you wrote. Thank you for your kind and thoughtful words to Mike, and Q too. I think that the things you have suggested to Mike are very useful, and Helpful. You have a beautiful heart and mind.

Mike, Id like to take this moment to tell you that I have been reading everything you write as well about you and your Ladies struggles through this tough time. I havnt commented, because I dont know what to say. My mother was in an auto accident and recieved a large hematoma on the side of her head. Her mental health began a steady decline after that, and eventually we had to get her into a nursing home where she got the help my dad couldnt give her. I spent many hours with her, and it broke my heart to see the decline. They eventually had to use a hoist to lift her out of bed into her wheel chair, and then out roles were reversed. This wonderful mom who spoon fed me as a baby was now being fed by me the same way. She became like a child around me and I became like the parent. I fed her, stroked her brow, and sang to her. I was there moments before she passed. I had lost my best friend in life. Its been three years, and I still miss her badly. I just wanted to share this and tell you that I know some of the pain you are going through. You have a good heart Mike, and as long as you have hope, there is hope for Dada

Phil

a reply to: visitedbythem

Thank you. I'm honored that someone new to me took the interest to read it and even more, made the effort to reply. I've noticed you on occasion and remember because I always have to click on your name to read it clearer.

The name intrigues me and I wonder about the story behind it.



Fishy

(A funny nickname that Gordy gave me that I often use, hoping I will someday reel him back into the Shed...sigh...where there's a Heartbeat, there's Hope...)

a reply to: ClownFish
Howdy. I'm here if you remember it.

a reply to: Skid Mark

Okay, I am officially embarrassed. Actually I don't remember and I was thrilled that I had thought of something to say to you. You could argue that I was obviously not thrilled enough! If I remember at 3AM, I will get up and come and tell you. Otherwise I will try to remember, which is becoming my discordant theme song, to do some hunting around pages 3 to 6 of the last Shed....

I'm thinking I should have taken the name Dori...

Fishy

Just stopping bye to give this thread another

The poetry is amazing.

a reply to: King Seesar

Hello King Seesar.

a reply to: Skid Mark

I couldn't leave you hanging and my own curiosity got the better of me... This is what you said:

I hope you come across something that works. The brain does have a way of rerouting around damage sometimes. Just keep her mentally stimulated.

Duh...it was that comment that sent me writing to Mike all day. I could not agree with you more! Brilliant!!!

But now I see that I could have just quoted you and saved the world some very big bytes.

I also liked what you said about fire flies. I love them too and hadn't seen any for years until maybe 6 weeks ago when I saw some out on my front lawn. I had to blink several times in disbelief. I felt truly blest at the sight and felt like God had sent me a special and personal gift.

But in looking for your comments, I went further back and I see that credit for this idea goes to Caver78. We live in the same state but it looks like she chose the perfect spot. Still, I love our place, and I want to post a picture of it someday, but I want to do something fancy with it for Epirus as I have a special place for him in my heart...In fact, I hope this link works if anyone wants to see why I feel this way about him:

www.abovetopsecret.com...

But back to Caver, her picture was absolutely amazing. Maybe she will see this and post it again. Or maybe I'll get lucky with my link attempt:

www.abovetopsecret.com...

Anyway, now you know...






Fishy