The Cost of Doing Business…RANT (part 1)

Before I get into my rant, I would like to emphasize, underline and enthusiastically state that I love the United States of America!

As a non-american born person who has made a life here, I am aware that living here is a privilege and not my birthright (FYI I have paid a shitload of money to immigration for this privilege).

Even though I consider America my home, there are times where I feel more like a “guest” rather than a resident. 

Because of my “immigrant insecurity” I tend to avoid commenting on or engaging in heated domestic political discussions (trumpland etc) or other uniquely American issues.

But don’t let my silence fool you – I assure you I am very opinionated. It’s just really hard to have people take you seriously in the USA discussions when your voice doesn’t even sound American:

“Them sounds coming out your mouth tell me you are not from around here…conversation OVER!”. (I feel Melania Trumps pain!)

(*note: if I over-pronounce my “R’s” and talk REALLY SLOWLY I can almost pull off an American accent)

Anyway, in spite of my perceived guest status I am the mother of American humans and because of that I feel entitled to share my opinion today. Uncle Sam has got me down!! 

My middle child (5) has life threatening food allergies. When he was 2 years old he almost died after nibbling on a cashew nut. 

(Unless you have seen an anaphylactic reaction it’s impossible to describe. In short, people can go from alive to dead in a matter of moments)

Tree nut allergies get worse every time you are exposed, so since he was 2 he has not left this house without his little bag containing 2 life saving EpiPens. Every 12 months the epinephrine degrades and expires so the pens have to be replaced.

Our pens expire next month so today I took him for a checkup and to get a prescription renewal. 

Well we didn’t get our new EpiPens today, because we didn’t have a spare $300+ dollars to account for the price increase that pharmaceutical company Mylan shafted us (the consumer of life saving product) with and our health insurance isn’t paying for.

It’s corporate greed revealed at its most revolting level – and it feels very American. The soul less, unethical executives at Mylan have got to be accrewing some seriously shitty karma points for making a LIFE SAVING drug unafforable for the “average American”.

I guess in order to run a billion dollar empire you have to be ruthless, unethical at times and willing to enforce the hard decisions – like making life saving medication unafforable for a kid who would die without it – in order to boost profits.

(So wait – remind me again who is President?)

I will post part 2 of my rant tomorrow and hopefully have some good news to report as far as sourcing a generic & affordable version of the EpiPens for our son.

It’s the first time I’ve missed living in a country that has “free” healthcare: if we were there we wouldn’t have to be stressed about sourcing this medication because it is subsidized by the government.

HAVING SAID THAT, the cost of “free” healthcare means that you live with the governments hand up your backside (think puppet). No thankyou sir!

I love living in a country with freedom of speech and a concept of civil liberties.

I am just not loving capitalism tonight. 


Open Loops and failure to thrive…

I didn’t want to get out of bed today.

I felt/feel frozen with fear. It’s getting harder to swallow it down & just get on with things. I’m really overwhelmed by a sense of impending doom at what is ahead of me.

It’s not going away, there is no going around it and eventually I’m going to arrive at said doom destination. Soon.

My therapist (one of them), would call what I’m experiencing an “open loop”. In dealing with this kind of situation/mental crisis, we need to figure out a way to close the loop and be done with it. 

The “open loop” analogy she used was that of having an unpaid bill that needs to be taken care of: so long as the bill remains unpaid, we have an “open loop” or thought rolling around inside our mind telling us to deal with the bill. 

Once we pay that bill however, it’s done and over, and we don’t think about it again: the loop is closed and we get on with life

I wish all the open loops in my mind could be solved by the act of paying a bill (and I wish I had more money to pay more bills!).

I’m letting my mental health get away from me. It’s not really a choice, because I feel like I have no control. It’s also hard when what’s going on mentally starts to manifest physically.

Like my complete inability and lack of desire to get out of bed this morning.

I normally get up before manpanion does to make him coffee and get him out the door, the kids wake up not long after that. I run on nervous energy so I’m usually the last to fall asleep and the first one out of bed.

This morning there was no coffee for manpanion. My kids were completely disorientated looking for me in every place but my bed. I felt guilty.

I was awake, I just couldn’t move. I didn’t want to face getting up and pretending that I am ok. I’m not ok. I’m a fucking ugly, shitty dread filled mess!

The thing about children is that they don’t really have time for my open loop crisis. They need to be fed, taught and loved.

So I got out of bed.

My normally clean house is looking like my bedroom but worse. One day of not doing dishes and such and everything is in chaos. 

My inside has spilt fully over into the outside. 

I have a pile of unopened Mail on the floor next to my desk that I have no intention of dealing with. I logged into my email yesterday for the first time in months to be greeted by 15,000 unread emails – so yeah, fuck that too.

It’s open loop hell in my mind and home today. My default plan of “dodge and avoid” has caught up with me all at once and I have no idea how or where to start dealing with shit.

Im not dead or hospitalized so I guess I’ll start there, by being grateful for lack of dead-ness and freedom (I HATE being put in the mental hospital).

Breathe and repeat.

Pain, Suffering and Travel

I’m around 30 days away from having to face head on a very painful, very complicated issue from my past. 

In 30 days, give or take, I will be boarding a plane and crossing oceans to the otherside of the world – alone.  

I am leaving my 3 beautiful boys in my manpanions very capable hands. The agony of separation from my children is already starting to churn my insides. 

I cannot even describe how difficult it is going to be to have to leave them.

The weight of responsibility is pulling me down. I feel suffocated. I don’t want to go, but if I don’t, I will have unresolved legal matters forever swimming around at the edges of my mind. 

It’s hard to live a life fully in the present when you cannot make peace with the past. This is my chance.

I can’t really share specifics, but I am seeking justice for injustice – crimes committed by individuals and covered up by an organization.

I am very close to the finish line, and the momentum is changing. There is a sense of urgency now, hence I’m being dragged across the world for what is essentially a cross examination.

The enormity of what I have to face when I get off the plane at the otherside isn’t quite hitting me as much as the journey itself. 

It doesn’t feel like a great climate in which to be traveling overseas. Just when you think the world cannot be turned upside down anymore, a fucking plane (big plane!) goes missing or worse. 

Humans acting like wild animals (that’s actually offensive to animals but hopefully you see my point), with airports being a flashpoint for inhumane and abhorrent behavior. 

Like most people with PTSD who have lost faith in humanity, I will be traveling with my back to the wall and even though I’m not the religious type I will be praying.

My other concern is the fact that the USA is my home but I’m not a citizen (I’m legal so put the pitchforks down!). Coming home feels uncertain.

Even though logic dictates that the current administration is not going to do anything crazy, like cancel everyone’s green card, logic seems to be noticeably absent from anyones agenda!

I just want to make it home in one fucking piece, and I want my home to still be available.

The countdown begins. 

Robust Ruminator!

Today has been rough, so it’s an absolute pleasure to be able to accept the “Robust Ruminators” award. 

I am completely undeserving and surprised that people voted for me, especially considering my blogs content is mostly full of confusion and rambling 🙂 

Thank you to my blogging friend, Rob for taking the time to acknowledge and interact with others across the blogging universe. Much appreciated!

The evolution of my marriage

It’s not a secret that my manpanion and I have a very “real” relationship. It’s not cute or worthy of social media. Quite the opposite.

We are currently up to our eye balls in raising young children, his career (which is high pressure) and my dealing with the demons from my former career (both emotionally and I’m presently in the middle of a legal dogfight). 

We are both introverts: he was born like it and I morphed into one after I was hit with the trauma stick. 

Both manpanion & I both bring loads of baggage to the table. It’s a miracle that we even met considering during that time we were both professional anti-social persons. AND we lived on opposite sides of the world…

Thankyou Blizzard and The World of Warcraft! For those familiar with the game, my manpanion chose to play on an oceanic server instead of an American one due to shift work…lucky for me! (horde never alliance!)

Now we find ourselves living in the same country and the world of Warcraft is a distant memory from the days when we had time to spare. Real life has arrived

I’m pretty sure that my manpanion is unfamiliar with the concept of romance. He buys me flowers or a plant when he has done or said something particularly shitty so maybe that counts. 

Either way I don’t care so much about that pink heart stuff. 

Oh and I fucking detest Valentine’s Day (no offense to anyone who enjoys it). I kind of dig the story of St Valentine (who was eventually tortured and executed) but the Hallmark corporate holiday annoys me. Manpanion and I both agree on this.

Sometimes I wish I wasn’t so jaded and more open to traditional romantic stuff. I see how it has value in giving couples an opportunity to express gratitude to each other. But even as I type that I’m cringing at the thought of being presented with something pink and hallmark-y.

But I am human, and sometimes I get caught up in relationship comparison. Comparatively my relationship is not pretty or full of hearts. There is no date night.

It’s full of loud children and discussions about bills.

Recently manpanion has started hogging the bed and wrapping himself up like a burrito in ALL the blankets! This causes me to wake up cranky and cold, clinging to an inch of bed and questioning the meaning of life. What in the actual F?

Even in spite of my life long aversion to hallmark, a burrito blanket wrapped husband was not exactly the rose colored vision I had of what marriage would look like.

It probably doesn’t sound like it, but I am happy that we found each other. 

Because things between us have been a bit rocky of late, it’s given me pause to reflect on our relationship and assess how to get things back on solid ground.

My marriage will never be worthy of Instagram or provoke jealousy because it’s so perfect. It is the complete opposite of perfect!

There are definitely times when I feel like being married is kind of like a business transaction, and just like a business there are ups and down. 

It’s during those down times that you kind of have to take stock of what you have invested in your relationship. Sometimes it’s purely what you have invested that keeps you together and gets you through those times when you just want to throw in the towel.

For us, our investment is time, children and financial (mortgage etc). It’s more hassle than it’s worth to dissolve the business, therefore we move forward together.

I know it all sounds very clinical, but I am working very hard to make the business (being married) more profitable (ha!). I have hope.

Real life is hard work!

Confession: My bedroom is a mess! 

There are so many stressful, enormous life changing things currently being thrown at me. I can’t deal with even half of what is being flung my way!

I feel completely out of control!

Because I am a mentally stable person who deals with difficult things in a healthy way (ha!), I am choosing to just completely ignore the pile of stuff building up over there and I’m burying all my emotions regarding said stuff deep down never to be bothered by them again…

I will let you know how that works out for me.

Instead of dealing with the massive emotional tsunami that is looming behind me, I’d like to tackle a more pressing issue: the big pile of MY clothes that are currently decorating at least half the floor space in my bedroom.

If you were to walk through my house you would see perfectly neat and tidy rooms, spotless kitchens/bathrooms and Pinterest worthy storage ideas for all my kids stuff. People love visiting my house because it’s comfortable and eclectic. 

If for some reason one of my visitors ever made the unfortunate error of opening the door to my bedroom, they would probably think they had accidentally opened a portal into hell.

It’s a huge contradiction in comparison to the rest of my house, and even how I take care of my manpanions clothing: everything is folded, stored and hung neatly in the closet.

My stuff looks like a hurricane ripped it off the hangers and randomly spewed it all over the floor!

I’m incredibly frustrated with the mess, and I am even more annoyed that I literally cannot get my shit sorted out! I actually donated 90% of my clothing recently due to my drastic change in size and I still cant manage to organize what’s left!

I feel like there might be a deeper meaning in all this. My manpanion made a comment that perhaps the way my clothing storage looks on the outside, is a reflection of what I’m feeling on the inside. 

Yes. A f*cking mess!

Because I don’t want to deal with the deep real world stuff building up all around me, all I can focus on is how annoying the clothing trip hazards on my floor are…the perfect distraction!

I really want to get my stuff organized and tidied up this week but I’m overwhelmed and I don’t know where to start. 

Would love to hear of similar thoughts/confessions/experiences/remedies from others?

Quick update…

I haven’t been able to stick to my “blog everyday for as long as I can” commitment, but all is not lost! 

The past 3 days have been so ridiculously crazy. I have so many things I want to get out through writing, but I am thoroughly exhausted from the emotional ups and downs it’s an effort to even stay awake.

This is always happens to me after prolonged periods of anxiety: endless nights and days running on adrenaline, eventually the body gives out and says “no more”. Things slow down and I just feel very tired.

I will no doubt recharge soon enough and it will begin again!

Anyway, while I find myself in a quiet moment I wanted to pen a couple of boring but positive updates:

  • I have lost 85 pounds since Jan 29th last year. This is awesome & I’m moving towards maintaining now – yes!!
  • Manpanion and I put a 12foot trampoline together for our kids (complete with the safety net). We managed to not have an argument AND it didn’t end in divorce, even though we had to dismantle the whole thing and start over because “someone” didn’t think the instructions were important.
  • Something awesome happened yesterday which made me feel loved and valued: it deserves a whole post at a later time.

    * Random picture: decaf instant coffee, milk & cinnamon, I have it everyday. 

    Becoming American

    I’m hoping to take my citizenship test this year. I was eligible a couple of years ago, but due to the cost of the application and life stuff in general I have kept putting it off. 

    Immigration centers are one of the most depressing, time consuming, soul destroying places to have to spend time in. I can’t even begin to describe what a nightmare it is…the lines are never ending and there is desperation and sadness all round. 

    The last time I was in an immigration center I watched a family of four: mom, dad and two older kids get handed the news that dad and the kids were welcome to stay in the USA, but for whatever reason mom wasn’t. 

    They wept openly. Their disbelief and shock was hard to watch and filled me with the worst kind of dread. 

    I went into the bathroom and threw up. What if I wasn’t allowed to stay? My manpanion & kids (we only had two at that stage) were all ok to stay (because my manpanion is American born) but what if for some reason I wasn’t deemed good enough? What would we do?

    It’s just as hard to immigrate back to my country of origin if you weren’t born there, (and we had spent ALL our money applying for me to live in the USA) so how the fuck would we stay together if for some reason I was told no? It was awful. I felt powerless, insignificant and scared.

    It all turned out ok. Right now I am a legal permanent resident (green card) and I can live and work freely in the USA. I can do pretty much everything “real” Americans do but I cannot vote and I cannot hold a USA passport. Eventually my green card will expire.

    Not holding citizenship leaves a bit of uncertainty hovering in the background of our lives. In the current political climate of America, it is a very weird time to be a non-citizen. 

    There is a lot of hysteria and misinterpretation surrounding the “issue” of immigrants living in the USA. I’ve had to endure many conversations in which people amped up over the new president elects hardline immigration views, use over exaggerated hand gestures and shout things like:


    It’s always awkward when this happens, being the immigrant in the room. I’m sure you can picture it. I take a lot of comfort from the fact that Mr. Trumps wife was not born in America either (and I speak way better American than she does!).

    The upside of being an immigrant is that you take nothing for granted when you live in the grey areas. It will be an absolute relief and privilege to be awarded American citizenship. 

    *My kids playground ball

    She speaks…softly.

    I set myself a challenge yesterday: to post something to my blog everyday for as long as I can.

    My mental health is on the downswing and I have something HUGE that is fast approaching which I need to be at least lucid for (more about that in another post).

    I set the “post to my blog” challenge mostly because this is really the only contact I have with other humans (aside from my manpanion & our little humans). I don’t do social media outside of this & my family all live in another country.

    It’s certainly not an ideal set up, but it’s what my life is right now. I just have to make the best of it and work on getting mentally healthy.

    It’s hard for me to even write, and I love writing, but I’m so shutdown that it’s just hard – so I will leave it there and share some pictures from inside my sanctuary (home):

    My little indoor Eco-system & Buddha 

    Hymalayan salt lamp – I have one of these in all corners of my home

    My happiness poster – enough said 🙂

    Finding my voice, I lost it again.

    My 5th Chakra is blocked.

    For those who are not familiar with what a Chakra is, I won’t go into the details but if you are at all curious I encourage you to research (the very short explanation being they are energy points on our bodies). Hopefully this post will make sense to everyone regardless.

    I hope that regardless of what you may believe that my thoughts here are well received. I am struggling.

    Ever since I tumbled out the other side of trauma, like most people who are walking a similar path, I have sought ways to try and better my situation. I want to be better equipped to deal with pain and mental illness. At times, my life becomes merely a game of survival.

    Sometimes I feel like an amoeba floating in the pond, waiting to evolve. I disconnect.

    Throughout my journey, I have sought healing through medication, talk therapy, different types of alternative therapies and I have participated in some fairly destructive attempts to self medicate.

    I have found much clarity and plenty of healing with the alternative therapies, which range from acupuncture, energy healing (such as Reiki), Kinesiology , hypnotherapy and so on.

    Most of the more alternate health practitioners I have worked with over the years have all been familiar with Chakras and they all (independent of each other) generally note that my 5 Chakra becomes/is blocked during times of high stress and mania relating to my PTSD.

    When I first I heard this, my reaction was pretty skeptical. Over time with research – and after being repeatedly “diagnosed” by different people – I have really come to believe in the validity of Chakras and I use them as focus points for meditation when I get myself grounded enough to actually be still enough to meditate.

    So the 5th Chakra is also known as the “throat chakra” (which is where it is located) and it allows you to “speak your truth” and express creativity. In short, it lets your voice be heard – its your communication center.

    Right now, I don’t have a f*cking voice. I have withdrawn so far into myself I struggle to actually physically talk. I am stuttering (an ongoing problem which comes and goes) and I can barely write…its painful writing this.

    There are other “tangible” things at play here but I know my throat chakra is blocked because I can physically feel pain in my throat and I am aware that my energy is unbalanced. And I cannot speak or communicate. I currently cannot even make a phonecall.

    I am lonely because I am afraid of people. I am trapped in this lonely, isolated existence because I can’t communicate. My trauma is stuck in my throat. I don’t want to live like this. 

    Everyday I wake up and I feel like I am failing. Right now my situation and resources are dictating that I am going to have to dig myself out of this hole – so I am going to start with what I know & work on unblocking and rebalancing my energy.

    Because my ability (or lack of) to communicate is a huge obstacle for me, I am going to try to pen a blog post everyday for as long as I can, even if its just sharing a picture from my unremarkable life (apologies in advance). The thought of doing this makes me extremely uncomfortable, but perhaps opening myself up to the world just a tiny bit will allow me a chance to participate in it? I hope.