tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-67102549793597737032024-02-20T00:30:02.444-08:00The Railroad Tracks:Thoughts on Life & Lyme.Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01056609174802415300noreply@blogger.comBlogger45125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6710254979359773703.post-4067210929775007302011-11-10T10:23:00.001-08:002011-11-10T15:07:15.837-08:00Hard to Swallow.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It's hard to talk when you're chewing. It's even harder to write while you are thinking. That is why it has been a while since my last post. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My whole life people have been spitting out cliches about death and I never really bought it... Some of it, I still don't buy. And pieces of their advice now feel splintered under my skin. In one week, my husband and I lost two dear family members-- a loss that can't be measured... </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It is so strange when life brings you death. For some reason, we don't expect it. It's like we live in this unrealistic assumption that things will be okay and that we will just keep living. I know I do. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A lot of things have become clear to me in these past few weeks. I would like to try to share them here, but I feel a sense of pull-back. What if I offend? What if I'm insensitive? But as with all writers, I must keep writing truth as I see it. </span><br />
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Life is short."</span></b><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In the past few weeks of grief, this phrase has certainly come up. From a human perspective, shortness makes something more valuable. I'm beginning to realize that EACH DECISION we make that much more important. What I mean by that is that if we are waiting around, killing time, partying, etc. we are really wasting our lives. I think of it like a road. Each time we take a little step away from the straight path, we are taking our lives on a jagged trajectory...It's subtle and maybe not a big deal when we are 17 or 27. But suddenly, we wake up and we are 37 or 57 and we wonder how we got here or where the time went.... I guess what I'm saying is, life choices matter and they will determine our finish line- for good or for bad. </span><br />
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"You just never feel ready for this."</span></b><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You don't. God made us to live and to desire life. Sin screwed us over. We will never be ready for death.</span><br />
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"In the end, you can't take anyone with you."</span></b></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It's funny because when I think about life, i usually think that I should be doing more: helping more people, volunteering more, etc. But the truth is, at the end of life, it's you and God. Really. You can't really take anyone with you. And in this experience I realized that I really want more intimacy with God more than I want to "do more." That's not to say those things are not important. It's just to say, it all comes back to a relationship with God. Doing more doesn't necessarily mean you are closer to God. </span></div>
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"They are in a better place."</span></b><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The answer to this is yes or no. I guess I grew up in church, learning about God and his love for me. And then one day I wake up to read in the Bible that there is a place called hell. And people go there. That doesn't make sense...I thought God loved people. Why would he allow them to a place where they are eternally punished and separated from him? </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This is a hard topic. One I tend to avoid. I can't tell you it's something I understand. All I can tell you is that I believe in God. I believe he created the world. I believe he is the essence of goodness and truth and morality, which is why we have an internal sense of morality, coded into our DNA. Even though it's gotten pretty screwed up in the human race, it's still there, whispering to us that we shouldn't treat others with hatred and screaming out against human trafficking, abuse and a million other injustices in our world. We know these things are wrong. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I can only conclude that a God who taught us our very sense of morality is acting morally in our world, whether it seems that way or not. And I can only conclude that hell is a just punishment for those who reject the truth and live a life separate from God. That doesn't mean it is easy for me to swallow. It just means I believe it. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I guess what I'm saying is, the ocean exists, whether you have put your feet in the sand or not. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Hell is there, whether you believe it or not. And when we die, we will go one of two places. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now there is always the possibility that I am wrong. In which case, I'm not sure anything matters-- morality, religion, life choices. Sure, having a family and co-existing with neighbors is preferable to being a drug addict-- but only in the sense that it's more peaceful in the moment. I'm not sure life has a lot of meaning outside of God. And, if I'm wrong, then you should just live as you please. In fact, religion is just a crap way of trying to pretend life has meaning. It doesn't matter what you believe, as long as you feel good about it. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm not trying to say that with an attitude. Really. It's just true. If no religion is true, then it doesn't matter what the hell you believe. Honestly. It really doesn't. Co-existing becomes the goal. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But the truth is, I do believe life matters and our SPECIFIC beliefs matter. And that means EVERYTHING in life matters and EVERY PERSON in uniquely meaningful to God's purpose. And every creature is in danger of separation from God at the end of their lives if they don't live for him and KNOW God as he can be known.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In short, believe in "absolute truth." In other words, I don't believe everyone can be right about God, while believing contradictory statements. I believe there is one truth to be found by all. That is not to say there are pieces of this God puzzle that I don't misunderstand. I know as a finite creature, my understanding is limited. I probably am screwing some stuff up. But I do believe that God can be found by us. In fact, I believe he is waiting for us, hoping we crawl into his arms and let him cradle us. </span><br />
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<br />Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01056609174802415300noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6710254979359773703.post-42725120580181881472011-09-16T11:12:00.000-07:002011-09-16T11:13:14.933-07:00Straws and Camel's Backs.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
The whole idea of the Railroad Tracks blog is to keep in mind that every season has it's joys and pains. As weak human beings, we must learn to walk in the paradox, knowing God has our back. </div>
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It's ironic because I feel as though I'm living directly in the middle of those tracks right now perhaps more than ever. I can feel the splintering wood rub against my toes as the cool breeze strikes my face...</div>
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On the one hand, my life is overflowing with milk and honey... My husband just got a new job in the precise field he's be dreaming of working in for years now-- a huge answer to prayer. Not to mention the fact that in 6 days, we will be sitting on a plane, headed to Italy together (a trip we've been talking about for years). Additionally, I was just hired to write an article for an online journal, something I didn't think was possible...</div>
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Life isn't so bad, huh?</div>
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But one little flu (on top of my daily Lyme struggle) and I feel completely derailed.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAnzZp6lgSYRu2BSvrZ_scftQbAOU5fJw_2cYh96obVWytaLw9Pdsj9hGsSbUfkrpXho-KGCW4jelVp_edLOWmJ6pKf5kR0ZaMZSWwj3IK7D6cjGveeOZLCJF82lz7L79YTVpsV8znNok/s1600/Screen+shot+2011-09-16+at+11.04.14+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="295" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAnzZp6lgSYRu2BSvrZ_scftQbAOU5fJw_2cYh96obVWytaLw9Pdsj9hGsSbUfkrpXho-KGCW4jelVp_edLOWmJ6pKf5kR0ZaMZSWwj3IK7D6cjGveeOZLCJF82lz7L79YTVpsV8znNok/s320/Screen+shot+2011-09-16+at+11.04.14+AM.png" width="320" /></a></div>
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It makes me so frustrated to be so emotionally frail. You would think that with the blessings God has heaped on me during these past few months, I would be able to look past a tiny bug, right? But there is something in our nature that always drags us down in the negative, even when the positive is staring us straight in the face.</div>
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When I get down to the root of it, I realize it is not just the flu that is getting me down. That's just the first layer. When I dig deeper, I realize it is an accumulation of my health struggles for all these years. I can't tell you how many trips, camps and weekends have been ruined by my Lyme (and how many times I've felt like a burden to those around me on a trip). </div>
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I guess I just thought, because life suddenly seemed to be going well, that maybe, just maybe, I would make it through this trip unscathed... I think of Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego walking through unbearable temperatures without being touched by the flames... Why? Because God's protection was over them...</div>
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And there I hit a deeper nugget of truth. Somehow, catching a flu right before a trip makes me doubt God's goodness. I really have felt his blessing on me and my husband lately and suddenly, I'm sick in bed for days on end again. It feels like failure. It feels like God left me. </div>
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But he didn't. He never does. He is simply allowing the good and the bad to co-exist. And yet, somehow, it feels like abandonment. And I'm not sure how to look at this with the right perspective. I'm not sure I have it in me to be so positive anymore. </div>
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Have you been there? </div>
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<br />Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01056609174802415300noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6710254979359773703.post-91485050515869462652011-09-01T08:30:00.000-07:002011-09-01T08:30:22.782-07:00FIRST!I think most of us have good intentions. We want to lose weight, eat healthy, connect with God, and serve others. But the truth is, we don't DO it. Why? Because there is a black hole between our intentions and our lives. <br />
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I think one of the greatest dangers in life is distraction. I know I fall prey to its bait all the time. Life is full of things to do and people to text and sometimes I just forget why I'm here and what I'm doing. <br />
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The past few weeks, I've been doing a little experiment. Instead of spending time reading my Bible and journaling when I'm fully awake, in the mood, have my tasks done, and have finished my yoga-- I'm just doing it. First thing. It's sloppy and short and sometimes not fully coherent. But I'm doing it FIRST. (Most days I try not even to look at my phone before reading and journaling, although sometimes I just can't help myself!) And you know what? It's been awesome. <br />
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I guess for me, FIRST means first thing in the morning. For you, FIRST might mean first thing after work or FIRST thing after getting your kids to sleep. It certainly doesn't have to be in the morning. Since I don't work, that just happens to be my own personal 'FIRST.'<br />
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Just a thought to share today...Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01056609174802415300noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6710254979359773703.post-64446448038013520472011-08-31T16:11:00.000-07:002011-08-31T16:12:06.449-07:00The Constant Lesson.I wish all lessons in life stuck in my long-term memory. Some things in life do that-- like the multiplication tables or lyrics from a song. So here's my question: Why can't humility be a one-time lesson?<br />
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For the first time in a long time, I've had to remember what it's like to think about EVERY step today. Every time I've wanted a glass of water or needed to go upstairs, I've sat and thought about it for much too long. Why? Because my energy is almost completely sapped. In fact, if you were to look around my house right now, you would probably be able to tell the story of my day. The brown sugar is resting on the counter from this morning's oatmeal, there is an empty jar of pickles on the counter from lunch and my mail is strewn across the counter-- unopened. Why? Because every action in life requires energy and I'm just too tired to put life away right now.<br />
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Which leads me to my point, sickness requires a constant lesson in humility. It's two steps forward-- one step back. Today, I will have to ask my husband and my family to help me do things just yesterday I was perfectly capable of... And yet, that is all part of that character-producing, stomach-churning, constant thorn in my side which is the lesson of humility. <br />
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I wonder if I will ever get it? Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01056609174802415300noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6710254979359773703.post-47737091821597371492011-08-26T12:50:00.000-07:002011-08-26T12:51:34.372-07:00Steady.The last few weeks have been remarkably steady-- all things considered. I've been able to keep up a regular (albeit very light) exercise regiment, even with my aches and pains and exhaustion as well as maintain a steady and healthy 2,000 calorie diet. Considering my place in life, I feel great about it! Lyme has taken away the impression (false though it may be) that most people have that they are in control of their days and their activities. And yet, being able to keep up the regimen suggested by my doctor on a daily basis, gives me confidence that I carry with me through my days!Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01056609174802415300noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6710254979359773703.post-72701231852526564382011-07-24T11:47:00.000-07:002011-07-24T11:47:53.296-07:00The Either/Or.<!--StartFragment--> <br />
<div class="MsoNormal">Sometimes figuring out how to ‘keep up’ in social situations is difficult, especially if you don’t have a particularly outgoing personality.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even for those who do have that type of personality, I’m sure you know what I mean. Some situations are harder than others—depending on the group dynamic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Harder still is figuring out to how function socially when you are feeling sick. Let’s say a normal person has like 100 bars of energy for a week.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And let’s say 60 bars go to work and basic functioning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That still leaves 40 bars (40%) of the week’s energy left for the weekend: plenty for a movie, a 10k run, three hang outs with friends, church, and a Sunday evening movie and wine night…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It works out pretty well for the healthy person.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They use their energy during the day and renew their ‘bars’ at night with sleep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s a good system…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">For those of us battling chronic illnesses, energy looks a little different.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Every week we are given a varying amount of energy ‘bars’, making life and social plans difficult to figure.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe some weeks we are given a good 60 bars- which is quite decent, all things considered.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Other weeks are ‘40 bars weeks’ or worse, 10.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On those weeks, you have to simply have to make cuts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Sometimes, I feel as though I’m constantly calculating figures in my mind, trying to figure how many ‘bars’ I have left and what do with them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>During the week, I find myself asking questions like: Should I keep my house clean or should I save that energy to welcome my husband when he gets home?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Should I cook dinner or save my energy to be with my family?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Should I drive today or save that energy to get things done around the house? </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">On the weekends, the questions get more difficult, for that is when most of the social situations arise.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I feel so often that I lie to myself, telling myself that I have more ‘bars’ left than I truly do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is not unlike telling yourself that your car has a quarter tank, when that little red light is flashing at you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It doesn’t matter what you believe you have left, it matters what’s actually in the tank.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">And that is where I find myself so often—staring at that little red flashing light, while still ten miles from my destination.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><!--EndFragment-->Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01056609174802415300noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6710254979359773703.post-23398336932312643142011-07-22T13:21:00.000-07:002011-07-22T13:23:13.184-07:00Live Strong!Hey everyone,<br />
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So this week has been a hard one...I've been struggling with extreme fatigue, particularly when I first wake up and when I go to bed at night. I've done some modified yoga two days this week, but even that has put me under...However, I've really been working on keeping in line with my eating, which just makes me feel good, even when I don't 'feel good.' <br />
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My friend suggested I try out Lance Armstrong's website, 'Live Strong' which helps you make fitness and healthy eating goals, track your progress and calculate everything you are eating to see if you are keeping line with calories and also percentages of protein, fats and carbs. This is SO awesome for the Zone diet. I'm totally into it! It also has the most comprehensive calorie counter I've ever seen. It even has things like 'Fresh and Easy Cheddar cheese' and specific brands! It's amazing. <br />
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My friend and I are trying to eat really healthy before our trip in the fall, so that when we are in Italy, we won't have to worry about what we are eating- we can just enjoy! Until then, I'm sticking to it...<br />
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livestrong.com<br />
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Check it out!Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01056609174802415300noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6710254979359773703.post-22818101036141903532011-07-16T17:17:00.000-07:002011-07-16T17:20:13.384-07:00Child's Pose.I'm not really a 'yoga' kind of person, if you know what I mean. I don't mean that I've never done it or never enjoyed it. I guess before I was sick, I had a different mentality about it. I felt like if I were going to be at the gym for an hour, I'd better make it count. The truth is, quick results are not really what yoga has to offer.<br />
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I told my doctor on Monday about the 'exercise' I'd been trying to attain (15 measly minutes of walking/day) and I whined about how even that was doing me in. He suggested trying meditation and yoga. <br />
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If you are at all like me, the word 'meditation' conjures an image of a dim, steamy room filled with mangy- haired hippies humming in unison. Not exactly my crowd. <br />
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However, I've been learning yoga this week in the comfort of my living room (through our Apple TV) and have found it to be surprisingly doable and enjoyable for my flimsy, weak little body. That is not to say that I don't get tired, but I find that yoga is perhaps the one activity that runs at my speed right now. When I walk in my neighborhood, I find myself starring at those toned runners and mom's with running strollers as they whizz past me, as I stumble along. Not how you want to feel when you are 27... But yoga is actually quite...right. I can't explain it. I'm not feeling a lot of result in terms of muscle of course. (I am doing beginner's yoga, so I wouldn't expect to.) But I do see a difference in posture, energy, confidence and even a little bit in my mental state. <br />
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It's pretty much amazing.Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01056609174802415300noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6710254979359773703.post-58118118072788906602011-07-08T10:55:00.000-07:002011-07-08T10:55:44.503-07:0015.Fifteen stinking minutes-- that is all the exercise I'm trying to do per day this summer.... 15 minutes. It's not like I'm trying to sprint; I'm walking, for goodness sake. And yet, I'm finding it's a bit too much for my body. I've been able to do it 3 days this week, which wasn't bad. However, I find myself weak in the evenings from it. I remember feeling that way when I was healthy and I would do a FULL work out. That's when NORMAL feel tired-- after doing something significant. Honestly, I feel like I'm the biggest wimp ever. <br />
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I do have to say that it is amazing what a small amount of movement does for your body. It feels good to realize have your muscles still exist. <br />
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Okay, I'm done pouting. To be honest, I'm excited I'm doing any sort of movement at all. I lose perspective sometimes. I remember a time when walking to the kitchen from the living room would cause my whole body to shake. <br />
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As C.S Lewis says: "Comparison is the thief of Joy." <br />
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I guess for me, 15 minutes is something to celebrate.Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01056609174802415300noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6710254979359773703.post-27971351856639093412011-07-06T09:31:00.000-07:002011-07-06T09:31:15.323-07:00Harvest.As I sit here this morning, reveling in my breakfast of oatmeal with soymilk and fresh peaches, I feel a sense of newness washing over my being. These past few years have felt like I've been constantly working on my illness with little or no return. Of course, getting married in the midst of it all, was an enormous BRIGHT spot in the hard work of recovery. But I've felt such a weight over my life, my goals and my future. Will this illness keep me from my passion of teaching forever? Will I ever get back to 'normal' life? Will I ever get to travel with my husband as we always dreamed? (We both have a major passion for travel and photography-- two interests which are fast friends.) The last two weeks, I've turned a corner--<br />
emotionally and physically-- and suddenly it feels as though, for the first time in this arduous journey, things are going to be all right. I can't go back to work yet-- of that I am sure. However, life is offering me little handfuls of fresh summer fruit... Through a series of serendipitous events and the generosity of a friend, Steve and I are going to Italy this fall! It is quite a miraculous thing indeed... I have no idea how my body will react to the travel or how I will feel when I'm there, but that is really beside the point. The point is that, because of the blessings of God and the faithful work and prayers of my family, I am getting better. It is not complete (and may never be on this side of heaven), but it is progress. It is hope. Because of God's blessings, I am LIVING life...Try and stop me. :)Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01056609174802415300noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6710254979359773703.post-9062749472197942842011-06-28T15:12:00.000-07:002011-06-28T15:12:07.913-07:00Bubbly.I feel a bubbling newness in me today. It is rather exciting. The streak of increased physical and mental energy continues today, even after a day in the sun yesterday. (If you don't know already, Lyme Disease + sun +heat = 3 couch days. ) I'm not to attribute this energy to... In fact, when I feel good, I try to simply appreciate it and not ask questions! It is very empowering to wake with energy. I often wonder if this is what 'normal' people feel like? I think for those who are well (myself included, when I have a long streak of wellness), it is easy to get used to health, to forget that it is a blessing. It is not the status quo. It is actually like God put money in your account for you. ("Here's enough to get you through the day, Bree... I hear him whisper.) Energetic days are like a 'bonus' at work: unexpected, extra, and exciting. Some people get a bonus every day, while others only get one here or there. And yet, for those of us who get infrequent bonuses, I believe we appreciate them more. While everyone else is going through their day in a hum-drum manner, us 'sickies' are jumping up and down: excited to make it to the grocery store AND the bank AND do laundry in ONE DAY. Wow. :)Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01056609174802415300noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6710254979359773703.post-9408957053820074592011-06-21T12:08:00.000-07:002011-06-21T12:08:00.950-07:00Sunlight.My doctor has me keep a log of my daily energy levels. It is not something I relish doing and yet it has been one of the most helpful ways of tracking my health and emotional state as I walk through the long corridors of sickness. <br />
<br />
This morning I reached for my log, realizing I had forgotten to write in it for several days and I was struck by a realization that this month has been a hard one. For those of you who have been around me, you might not have seen it on the outside. It is not at though this month has been one where I've been bedridden. I've gone to movies, hung out with friends and made social engagements. And yet, there has been a host of medical issues that I've been dealing with on a daily basis...Fighting with, actually. And to be honest, sometimes the functioning like a 'normal person' while having to fight the underlying battles is almost harder than just staying home.<br />
<br />
The good news is, the sun is peaking its head through the clouds. Yesterday, I went to my mother-in-laws and took photographs for her new 'Sweet Little Cakes' business. I felt so alive with the camera in my hand again, thinking creatively without so much as an effort and scurrying around their property identifying good lighting and backdrops for the shoot. It felt amazing. <br />
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This morning, I woke up and wrote in the log (under Tuesday, June 20th), I finally felt energetic! Compared to the rest of the month, that day looked pretty good. :)<br />
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Here are a few pics I took yesterday!<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">http://www.facebook.com/pages/Sweet-Little-Cakes-by-Donna/113802398699600. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">(website coming very soon!) </div>Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01056609174802415300noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6710254979359773703.post-67566691923937555842011-06-18T17:11:00.000-07:002011-06-18T17:11:28.082-07:00Blur.If you are someone who deals with sickness on a daily basis, you know exactly what I mean when I say-- I have difficulty finding my place. At the risk of repeating myself, it is as though life is rushing past and here I stand, watching everyone live from a distance. It is not always a bad thing. There are advantage to sickness, believe it or not. One of the greatest advantages would be perspective. Most people live and drive at 78 mph. While this may get them to their destinations more quickly, there is a lot to be seen from the passengers side window that is a blur when you are the driver. With that said, I prefer driving. Fast. And yet, there is something wise about accepting your place in society as an observer and making making the most of it.Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01056609174802415300noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6710254979359773703.post-77294509050452117822011-06-15T13:56:00.000-07:002011-06-15T13:56:37.261-07:00Zone.Quite a long time ago, I wrote about sugar and how it is supposed to affect Lyme Disease. People recommended eating natural sugars rather than processed (I think it was mango instead of ice cream...) I of course, refused. I am a sweets nut. I love creamy ice cream, smooth frozen yogurt, chocolately brownies and every sort of heaven out there... In spite of this, I feel I have a relatively disciplined approach to sweets... um...most of the time... But that does not mean I'm willing to give them up completely. <div><br />
</div><div>Recently I asked my doctor (in a surprising flood of openness) if there was anything I could do to help my health through diet. He asked me to list my daily routine of foods and he immediately said I needed to cut my carb intake and increase my fat intake. I grew up during the 'low fat' craze, which says cut down your fat to nothing and fill your stomach with whatever low-fat items are out there... I also jumped on the 'whole grain' bandwagon, which to my surprise my doctor was not thrilled with in conjunction to my other eating habits. He said some whole grain in fine, but unless i have other fats in my diet and proteins, he said I will not be gaining the energy that I need. He recommended the basic of idea of the 'zone' diet as a guideline.</div><div><br />
</div><div>Hmmm. This was a breakthrough for me. </div><div><br />
</div><div>Now, my initial thought is-- no way you are going to make me change my ways! And then I thought to myself...Wait a second, I asked him the question!</div><div><br />
</div><div>So for the past 2 months or so, I've been riding this zone wave. Since I'm not doing for weight, it is a VERY loose diet. I don't even think of it as a diet so much as a switch in thinking. The interesting thing has been that as I have increased protein and fat and balanced out my sugar cravings. Trust me---THEY ARE STILL THERE! But it seems to keep me more balanced throughout the day. When I first tried it, I did it too extreme (not enough sugar or carbs) and I literally almost fainted. I found myself on the kitchen floor, almost blacking out. Not really the point. So, I've adjusted and introduced more carbs. I don't worry too much about it when I'm friend's houses. I kinda just eat what's there. Sometimes, if we are celebrating, I forget the whole thing all together. But in my days at home- the normal, slow-paced, controllable days, I can maintain it pretty well and it gives me a sense of balance. </div><div><br />
</div><div>It feels like a breakthrough in my adult life to switch my eating habits in a very moderate and doable way without obsessing over it. </div><div><br />
</div><div>And trust me, I have NOT given up frozen yogurt. :) </div>Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01056609174802415300noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6710254979359773703.post-51636193357391261192011-06-14T18:51:00.000-07:002011-06-14T18:51:35.621-07:00Crunch.<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">I've found myself chopping things lately. You know: broccoli, carrots, mushrooms, bell peppers, etc...Anything you could put into a stew... I've also found myself chewing on gum and carrots more than usual. I believe it's because I'm frustrated with many things right now. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">You know those posters that they have up in school that say '100 things to do instead of drugs'? And then it says: ride a scooter or something brilliant? I feel like my life has turned into one of those posters lately. While I don't have a disposition for drugs, I do have the 'I'm a 'type A' personality and I'm annoyed with still being sick tendency. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">And so I will chop and chew and crunch away my frustration...I guess it's better than a lot of alternatives. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">If you have other suggestions, feel free...</div>Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01056609174802415300noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6710254979359773703.post-32904139570107913072011-06-09T14:02:00.000-07:002011-06-09T14:02:31.533-07:00Hello again.After many months of silence on my Railroad Tracks blog, I am poking my head out to say hello . My silence was not due to a lack of desire to write, but rather a business of writing elsewhere. I've been working on a manuscript (yes, even in sickness, you can accomplish!) and living life as best as I can. <br />
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Today, I am pondering the idea of labels and their effect on our psyche. A friend of mine noticed that I use the word 'sick' to describe myself often. It is a defense mechanism of sorts-- a way to explain my lack of working to the world around me. Because I don't look particularly ill, most people find me kind of a mystery. (You look fine. You talk and laugh and hang out like everyone else. Why don't you work? What's wrong with you?) I've found that being outside the normal realm of people who work and lead energetic and busy lives, leaves me needing a category. On a side note, I was filling out a form the other day that had three check-boxes: full-time student, work, and one other...can't remember. I found myself staring and it going...nope. nope. nope. I guess I don't check anywhere.) <br />
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And so, in my attempt to explain to the world my condition without really getting into the specifics, I say "I am sick." I guess I figure that if I say sick, they will think of having the flu or a cold, which is quite miserable and something they have experienced. Then, in understanding they will nod their heads and say, 'yes, I understand.' While my condition does not necessarily feel like having a cold or flu all the time, it is the closest most people can relate to my condition. It is the easy way out of explaning the complexity of the mental and physical implications of having Lyme Disease. <br />
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And yet, my friend challenged me the other day...She asked me if my labels are getting in the way of my striving towards healing and viewing myself as healthy. I didn't think so. At least not at the moment. However, I'm conceding to the possibility that perhaps labeling myself as sick (though accurate) might not always be the most healthy way to relate to the people around me, who strive to help me back to health. Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01056609174802415300noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6710254979359773703.post-55067101645264145492011-06-02T15:14:00.000-07:002011-06-02T15:14:02.315-07:00Stuck.I feel really stuck right now in my writing. I wouldn't call it writer's block, per se. I would call it frustrating. I finished a rough draft of my first teen novel. It's far from smooth as this point and yet I believe it has potential. I really want to keep up my daily writing routine (Starbucks- Earl Grey tea, my mac and a pair of headphones,) but I'm not sure what I'd write. I have a couple of 'maybe' projects on the back burner, but I'm not sure about them. I'm having a friend review my novel right now, hoping to get some insight. When I get my manuscript back, I suppose I will keep going on my revision process, but I feel like I'm losing steam. <br />
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Ugg....The writer's life... I'm off to one of my 'maybe' projects now.Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01056609174802415300noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6710254979359773703.post-18165453024595913672010-06-25T11:53:00.000-07:002010-06-25T11:59:42.026-07:00PROGRESS.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBZj5A8sQW1MvFdqihHB2gj0YLDE6Zf_JlXGJeDg64vHqAxB9JV7AC1P5Mtfk-n2K1quUAUaFli4T4CQtL2OhKpTOo0aAmla1WEh-f1c-n6cSLZWfNJOthGQXybV7TVM96QCCSQUm-sFw/s1600/IMG_1523.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBZj5A8sQW1MvFdqihHB2gj0YLDE6Zf_JlXGJeDg64vHqAxB9JV7AC1P5Mtfk-n2K1quUAUaFli4T4CQtL2OhKpTOo0aAmla1WEh-f1c-n6cSLZWfNJOthGQXybV7TVM96QCCSQUm-sFw/s320/IMG_1523.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>I have noticed that the most successful parents are those who adjust. A lot of parents tend to see their children as static. Perhaps this is not true when they are changing grades every year. After all, there is a huge difference between a first grader and a second grader. The change is outward and apparent. Even the change in height makes the inward changes more noticeable. But when kids get out of high school and start moving on in life, it's almost like there is a drop- off, a time when parents forget that their children are still changing, still learning, still failing, still insecure, still vulnerable. <br />
<div><br />
</div><div>They don't adjust. </div><div><br />
</div><div>I have been lucky enough to have parents who see not as a child or a completely self-sufficient adult. They see me as I am: a post- graduate adult who still needs a whole lot of help in life and grace during times where I'm weak, inexperienced or uncertain.<br />
<div><br />
</div><div>In a way, I don't blame those parents who are clueless in this way, because I myself feel similarly sometimes. Though I am not a parent, I experience this feeling in my sickness. When it comes down to it, the core issue is a lack of perspective. Just as parents aren't able to separate from their children enough to see where they are at NOW, so I cannot separate from my view of myself in sickness. Okay, that might not make a lot of sense...Let me try to explain: </div><div><br />
</div><div>When you first get sick, you view yourself as a "healthy person" who is experiencing sickness. When sickness lingers, you go through all the stages of grief (denial, anger, bargaining, depression & finally, acceptance.) When then terrible cycle is through, you land a place where you can see yourself as a "sick person" without grief or self-pity. It is just a way of thinking. It is a way to filter life through a grid that helps it make sense. Instead of struggling all the time and feeling angry and that you can't feel like "normal people," you make the change to assume that you can't do anything. That way, if by some miracle you are able to go, it is a celebration! And that is where I've been at for well over a year now. (The whole grief process was about 6-8 months.) </div><div><br />
</div><div>The problem is, with Lyme anyway, the symptoms are not always predictable. The "growth" so to speak is unpredictable, which means that there are seasons, weeks, days and sometimes even hours when the sickness seems to leave your body... There are days when I'm functioning almost as though I were normal...And it is in those moments, when I find myself in crisis. Who am I? How do I function in the world? Am I sick person who is having a well moment or am I changing gears? Am I going to heal now? It is giant and exhausting mind game that anyone who is sick goes through regularly. It is that tension that exhausts even those who have been through many horrors and tragedies. Even the strongest of people feel this and knows it's pain...</div><div><br />
</div><div>Am I an adult or a kid?</div><div>Am I a sick person or well person?</div><div>Am I normal?</div><div>Should I 'do' or rest?</div><div>How do other people view me in all this? </div></div>Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01056609174802415300noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6710254979359773703.post-32750924069660176682010-05-21T14:20:00.000-07:002010-05-21T14:37:06.781-07:00CRASH.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;"></span></span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;"></span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;"></span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;"><div class="header" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiofL47wk3Jj8QlvkrcuwanX7Eo-ArekFn7VfdNG11lN6z2kNYd6ly9fyypShqvqUTRooyY10i1Gg4nJywwbnkw32ERFxYzXbisY313Pl83uCXAdeDqcFj7XuzsorxBLYaqnc0ZAz0UDk/s1600/IMG_1125.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiofL47wk3Jj8QlvkrcuwanX7Eo-ArekFn7VfdNG11lN6z2kNYd6ly9fyypShqvqUTRooyY10i1Gg4nJywwbnkw32ERFxYzXbisY313Pl83uCXAdeDqcFj7XuzsorxBLYaqnc0ZAz0UDk/s320/IMG_1125.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black; font-size: medium; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">crash</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-size: 13px; font-weight: normal; line-height: 16px;"><sup style="bottom: 1ex; color: #333333; height: 0px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: relative; vertical-align: baseline;"><span id="hotword" style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span></span></span></sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span></span><span class="pronset" style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><embed align="texttop" flashvars="soundUrl=http%3A%2F%2Fsp.dictionary.com%2Fdictstatic%2Fdictionary%2Faudio%2Fluna%2FC09%2FC0951600.mp3&clkLogProxyUrl=http%3A%2F%2Fdictionary.reference.com%2Fwhatzup.html&t=a&d=d&s=di&c=a&ti=1&ai=51359&l=dir&o=0&sv=00000000&ip=4b54a652&u=audio" height="15" id="speaker" loop="false" menu="false" quality="high" salign="t" src="http://sp.dictionary.com/dictstatic/d/g/speaker.swf" style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="17" wmode="transparent"></embed> </span></span><span class="show_spellpr" style="color: #333333; display: inline; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="prondelim" style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">[</span></span></span><span class="pron" style="color: #333333; display: inline; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">krash</span></span></span><span class="prondelim" style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">]</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" onclick="this.style.backgroundColor='#b5d5ff';return hotWord(this);" onmouseout="this.style.backgroundColor='transparent'" onmouseover="this.style.cursor='default'" style="background-color: #b5d5ff; color: #333333; cursor: default; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">–verb</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black; font-size: medium; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-size: 13px; font-weight: normal; line-height: 16px;"><span class="pronset" style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="show_spellpr" style="color: #333333; display: inline; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" onclick="this.style.backgroundColor='#b5d5ff';return hotWord(this);" onmouseout="this.style.backgroundColor='transparent'" onmouseover="this.style.cursor='default'" style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; cursor: default; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">1.</span></i></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">to</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span></span><span id="hotword" name="hotword" onclick="this.style.backgroundColor='#b5d5ff';return hotWord(this);" onmouseout="this.style.backgroundColor='transparent'" onmouseover="this.style.cursor='default'" style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; cursor: default; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">break</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span></span><span id="hotword" name="hotword" onclick="this.style.backgroundColor='#b5d5ff';return hotWord(this);" onmouseout="this.style.backgroundColor='transparent'" onmouseover="this.style.cursor='default'" style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; cursor: default; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">or</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span></span><span id="hotword" name="hotword" onclick="this.style.backgroundColor='#b5d5ff';return hotWord(this);" onmouseout="this.style.backgroundColor='transparent'" onmouseover="this.style.cursor='default'" style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; cursor: default; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">fall</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span></span><span id="hotword" name="hotword" onclick="this.style.backgroundColor='#b5d5ff';return hotWord(this);" onmouseout="this.style.backgroundColor='transparent'" onmouseover="this.style.cursor='default'" style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; cursor: default; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">to</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span></span><span id="hotword" name="hotword" onclick="this.style.backgroundColor='#b5d5ff';return hotWord(this);" onmouseout="this.style.backgroundColor='transparent'" onmouseover="this.style.cursor='default'" style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; cursor: default; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">pieces</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span></span><span id="hotword" name="hotword" onclick="this.style.backgroundColor='#b5d5ff';return hotWord(this);" onmouseout="this.style.backgroundColor='transparent'" onmouseover="this.style.cursor='default'" style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; cursor: default; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">with</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span></span><span id="hotword" name="hotword" onclick="this.style.backgroundColor='#b5d5ff';return hotWord(this);" onmouseout="this.style.backgroundColor='transparent'" onmouseover="this.style.cursor='default'" style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; cursor: default; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">noise.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div></div><div class="body" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0em; margin-left: 0em; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><div class="pbk" style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 15px;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="pg" style="color: #333333; display: inline; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 3px; padding-top: 0px;"><span id="hotword" style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" onclick="this.style.backgroundColor='#b5d5ff';return hotWord(this);" onmouseout="this.style.backgroundColor='transparent'" onmouseover="this.style.cursor='default'" style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; cursor: default; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" onclick="this.style.backgroundColor='#b5d5ff';return hotWord(this);" onmouseout="this.style.backgroundColor='transparent'" onmouseover="this.style.cursor='default'" style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; cursor: default; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><span id="hotword" style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" onclick="this.style.backgroundColor='#b5d5ff';return hotWord(this);" onmouseout="this.style.backgroundColor='transparent'" onmouseover="this.style.cursor='default'" style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; cursor: default; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">2.to</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span></span><span id="hotword" name="hotword" onclick="this.style.backgroundColor='#b5d5ff';return hotWord(this);" onmouseout="this.style.backgroundColor='transparent'" onmouseover="this.style.cursor='default'" style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; cursor: default; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">experience</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span></span><span id="hotword" name="hotword" onclick="this.style.backgroundColor='#b5d5ff';return hotWord(this);" onmouseout="this.style.backgroundColor='transparent'" onmouseover="this.style.cursor='default'" style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; cursor: default; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">unpleasant</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span></span><span id="hotword" name="hotword" onclick="this.style.backgroundColor='#b5d5ff';return hotWord(this);" onmouseout="this.style.backgroundColor='transparent'" onmouseover="this.style.cursor='default'" style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; cursor: default; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">sensations,</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span></span><span id="hotword" name="hotword" onclick="this.style.backgroundColor='#b5d5ff';return hotWord(this);" onmouseout="this.style.backgroundColor='transparent'" onmouseover="this.style.cursor='default'" style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; cursor: default; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">as</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span></span><span id="hotword" name="hotword" onclick="this.style.backgroundColor='#b5d5ff';return hotWord(this);" onmouseout="this.style.backgroundColor='transparent'" onmouseover="this.style.cursor='default'" style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; cursor: default; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">sudden </span></span></span><span id="hotword" name="hotword" onclick="this.style.backgroundColor='#b5d5ff';return hotWord(this);" onmouseout="this.style.backgroundColor='transparent'" onmouseover="this.style.cursor='default'" style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; cursor: default; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">exhaustion</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span></span><span id="hotword" name="hotword" onclick="this.style.backgroundColor='#b5d5ff';return hotWord(this);" onmouseout="this.style.backgroundColor='transparent'" onmouseover="this.style.cursor='default'" style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">or</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><a href="http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/depression" onmousedown="return ct(this,53686)" style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: underline;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">depression</span></a></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span> </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="pg" style="color: #333333; display: inline; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 3px; padding-top: 0px;"><span id="hotword" style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" onclick="this.style.backgroundColor='#b5d5ff';return hotWord(this);" onmouseout="this.style.backgroundColor='transparent'" onmouseover="this.style.cursor='default'" style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; cursor: default; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" onclick="this.style.backgroundColor='#b5d5ff';return hotWord(this);" onmouseout="this.style.backgroundColor='transparent'" onmouseover="this.style.cursor='default'" style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; cursor: default; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><a href="http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/depression" onmousedown="return ct(this,53686)" style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: underline;"></a>The worst thing about crashing is that you don't expect it. The worst thing about crashing when you have Lyme Disease is that you do. Discernment is the key when you are living with a chronic illness...To do or not to do? that is the question...the never- ending question.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span> </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="pg" style="color: #333333; display: inline; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 3px; padding-top: 0px;"><span id="hotword" style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" onclick="this.style.backgroundColor='#b5d5ff';return hotWord(this);" onmouseout="this.style.backgroundColor='transparent'" onmouseover="this.style.cursor='default'" style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; cursor: default; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" onclick="this.style.backgroundColor='#b5d5ff';return hotWord(this);" onmouseout="this.style.backgroundColor='transparent'" onmouseover="this.style.cursor='default'" style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; cursor: default; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I think of the quote by Mark Twain where he says "</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did so. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover."</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span> </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="pg" style="color: #333333; display: inline; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 3px; padding-top: 0px;"><span id="hotword" style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" onclick="this.style.backgroundColor='#b5d5ff';return hotWord(this);" onmouseout="this.style.backgroundColor='transparent'" onmouseover="this.style.cursor='default'" style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; cursor: default; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" onclick="this.style.backgroundColor='#b5d5ff';return hotWord(this);" onmouseout="this.style.backgroundColor='transparent'" onmouseover="this.style.cursor='default'" style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; cursor: default; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Good advice Mr. Twain. But I wonder if Mark Twain ever had Lyme Disease? Probably not. What would his motto had been if did? Instead of "Explore. Dream. Discover" maybe he would have said: Rest. Sleep. Dream?" Okay, that is depressing.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span> </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="pg" style="color: #333333; display: inline; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 3px; padding-top: 0px;"><span id="hotword" style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" onclick="this.style.backgroundColor='#b5d5ff';return hotWord(this);" onmouseout="this.style.backgroundColor='transparent'" onmouseover="this.style.cursor='default'" style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; cursor: default; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" onclick="this.style.backgroundColor='#b5d5ff';return hotWord(this);" onmouseout="this.style.backgroundColor='transparent'" onmouseover="this.style.cursor='default'" style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; cursor: default; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">There is a time to push through when you are sick and there is also a time to sleep and I just can figure what time is what... It is one of my greatest challenges. Lately, I've been pushing through HARD CORE. Amazingly, my body has been somewhat cooperating with me. But the last few days I've been CRASHED hardcore. And when I say crashed, I mean I am shut down: mentally, emotionally, spiritually and physically. It's like I pressed 'hibernate' mode on myself. It's the only way to reset after an incredibly busy couple of weeks....</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span> </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="pg" style="color: #333333; display: inline; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 3px; padding-top: 0px;"><span id="hotword" style="color: #333333; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" onclick="this.style.backgroundColor='#b5d5ff';return hotWord(this);" onmouseout="this.style.backgroundColor='transparent'" onmouseover="this.style.cursor='default'" style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; cursor: default; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" onclick="this.style.backgroundColor='#b5d5ff';return hotWord(this);" onmouseout="this.style.backgroundColor='transparent'" onmouseover="this.style.cursor='default'" style="background-color: transparent; color: #333333; cursor: default; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; position: static;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">And yet, life demands so much more of me than I have to give it...What to do?</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div></div><div class="pbk" style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 15px;"><div class="luna-Ent" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; display: block; line-height: 1.25em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 5px; padding-left: 3px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"></div></div></div></span></span></span>Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01056609174802415300noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6710254979359773703.post-34235586527581245742010-04-09T14:24:00.000-07:002010-04-09T14:24:06.687-07:00LIFELESS.So I've basically gotten out of the house three times this week: one quick trip to Blockbuster, one visit to my sis, and one date with Steve and another couple. That's it. The rest of the week, I have literally spent in my bed. Usually, even at my worst, I at least migrate to the couch downstairs. Not this week. This week is an 'in-bed' week for a couple of reasons. One is that, on top of my usual Lyme symptoms, I got some kind of a cold...Just the usual sore throat, achey feeling type of thing. Plus, I've had stomach problems on top of it all, which just makes for a lovely week. <br />
<br />
Today when I woke up, I felt worse than ever. My body feels so heavy that I have found myself scooting instead of walking at some points, because I'm too tired to make normal movements. When people are around me, I find myself almost opening my mouth to speak and then refraining, simply because I need to save my strength. I'm too tired to talk.<br />
<br />
Usually when I write on my blog, it is for the purpose of sharing an insight or a meaningful experience. But today, I think I just want to be heard. When I'm sick, typing is easier than speaking and writing is easier than reading. I guess I just wanted to get my thoughts out there without summing it up into a neat package. Today is a hard day and I wanted someone to know it. Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01056609174802415300noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6710254979359773703.post-3549180313616950922010-04-07T12:24:00.000-07:002010-04-07T12:41:13.353-07:00PINNACLE.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>It was one of those moments, where suddenly life comes into focus. Water was trickling from the showerhead and down my face; fog was steaming up the small rectangular window above me. And suddenly, it hit me: I was living out my own worst case-scenario. <br />
<br />
All of us have them in our minds. We might not talk about them, but that does not mean they are not there. Maybe it’s the fear of losing your identity or your job. Perhaps it is the thought of being single forever. Maybe it’s the thought of losing possessions, status or opportunity. Maybe it’s the fear of never being able to rise above your pain and your depression. Maybe it’s the fear of death or loss or grief. Whatever it is, your own worst- case scenario is whatever tickles and pokes at the base of your brain at night and keeps your eyes from closing…<br />
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br />
<br />
When I first got sick, I was only thirteen years old. I wasn’t thinking about how this sickness would affect my future, my college education, my marriage, my children or my career. I was just trying to run a lap in P.E. without having to go to the nurse. I was trying to figure out how I could still stay at friend’s houses and convince my parents that it wouldn’t make me relapse. <br />
<br />
But then a couple months turned into a year; a year turned into two; two years turned to three. When my sickness didn’t go away, my fears and thoughts deepened…. Pretty soon, I was wondering if I would ever have a life again. I was wondering if I would ever go a day without taking handfuls of pills. I was wondering if I would ever look normal. I wondered if I would ever be able to escape this illness without looking over my shoulder and wondering when it would catch up. <br />
<br />
Just before my senior year of high school, I melted down. I felt like I had a stack of books on my head at all time; the weight of my illness was too much to bear. I remember pressing my face on the carpet, which was wet with tears. My friend Luke was there beside me, waiting for me to breathe, to stop. <br />
<br />
<br />
When I finally was still, Luke reminded me of the path of anyone who follows Christ must take: surrender. He reminded me that following God required a deep and complete letting go of my self: my hopes, my fears, my vision of what life was to be.<br />
<br />
And when I gave it to Him, he handed it right back. <br />
<br />
Senior year. Friends. Prom. Graduation. College. Freshman. Adventure. Moving. Dorm life. Learning. Passion. Sophomore. Freedom. Love. Home. Growth. Expansion. Health. Energy. Life. Teaching. Junior. London. Travel. Italy. Senior. Cooking. Friendships. Graduation. Student Teaching. Moving. Substitute Teaching. Experience. Vitality. First Job. Steve. Completion. Celebration. Italy...<br />
<br />
SICKNESS.<br />
<br />
Where had it come from? For years, I was sailing along in a life that was full of healing, joy and reward. I believed it was gone. It did not control me. I had left it behind. Even the tests proved it. But then, on October 1st, 2008, out of the blue sky, a wind crept in and with it blew in a storm…<br />
On its way out, my sickness handed me a jar. In it were words written on slips of paper…<br />
Surrender. Peace. Trust. Perseverance. Goodness. Faithfulness. Joy. Gentleness. Goodness. <br />
<br />
I had come out the other side stronger.<br />
<br />
But when I got sick again, my jar filled new words: <br />
<br />
Despair. Denial. Depression. Anxiety. Lethargic. Fuzzy. Disbelief. Discouraged. <br />
<br />
When I first relapsed in 2008, even something as small as a shower could wipe me out for many hours. I couldn’t stand long enough to put on my make-up in the morning. I had to sit on a stool, which was carried into my bathroom for me. Walking downstairs was a concerted effort, making my bed was too much and laundry was impossible. And yet, each day, I had to wake up and do it all again. <br />
<br />
<br />
Day after day, I lay on that couch…Month after month I waited. I expected. And yet, there was no answer. No reason. No cure. No hope of going to back to my job. I had to let it go. I had to let another take my place- my students, my classroom (which my friends and I had spent many long nights preparing for the school year), my salary, my position. In its place, I was handed sickness- not a fair trade. <br />
<br />
And that one morning, when the water trickled down my face and the steam crowded the window, I realized that I was truly living out my deepest fear- the return of my sickness and the loss of my job. Since I was in High School, I began to root these ‘what if’ fears in the deepest, most hidden places. I remember worrying about all the things I wouldn’t be able to do…And there I was, standing in my worst fear- the loss of everything I had worked for and everything I had hoped for…<br />
<br />
Yet, I have to tell you- there was something curiously comforting about the sensation. I promise I am not a masochist. It’s just that, in that moment, I faced my fear. I’m telling you; there’s something to this. It gave me a strange sensation of confidence to look fear in the eye and realize that I didn’t have a lot more to lose.<br />
<br />
I think it also made me realize that there was something within me during those years of healing that made me believe that I couldn’t do it again. Deep within, I believed that if God called me back to sickness- I wouldn’t be able to handle it. I had been there- done that- and now I was taking those lessons and moving on with my life. But for some reason, God allowed me to be brought back into this place of loss and grief. And knowing that I can be here- in the depths with Him again, makes me feel like I can get through anything- even my worst-case scenario. It’s when you’re at the top that you have everything to lose.Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01056609174802415300noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6710254979359773703.post-5919650731156041332010-04-02T18:29:00.000-07:002010-04-02T18:29:59.152-07:00STARTLED.I live near a major city, where the lights are always shining and the traffic never ceases. I live where you can drive 70 on the freeway and still get dirty looks from the cars passing you on either side. And yet, in my own little world, within the walls of my sickness, life feels quite slow. This makes for a difficult transition between my 'sick' world and the 'real' world. Sometimes, when you are limping, it is easy to forget that other people can run. When cars are whizzing past you, it is hard to slow down.<br />
<br />
It is difficult to describe this transitional feeling; it is quite distinct and nothing I have said quite does it justice. Have you even had those dreams where you are trying to walk, but your feet won't move? Everyone is saying to you 'Hurry up, you are going to be late!' but you feel as though you are running in jello? <br />
Ok, maybe I'm the only one who has had that dream...Here's another analogy that may or may not be useful...<br />
<br />
I want you to imagine your body is frozen, stiff as a board, with your hands at your side. Despite your attempts to move, you are stuck. Your toes are six inches away from a long splintered railroad ties. There is nothing around you but empty space. On the top of your head, sunlight piercing your scalp. Between you and the horizon, there is only dirt, tracks, broken bottles and spiky Joshua trees. The air is still; your heart is beating fast. Sweat rolls down your cheek and stings in the cracks on your lips, but you can't reach it to wipe it away. Without warning, a train zooms by and and nearly knicks your toes. You begin to lean in but the air pushes you back like invisible hands, knocking you to the ground. When you open your eyes, passengers are boarding with their tickets in hand. You had not noticed them before? Had you ever been alone or was that a mirage? And how on earth are you going to make it to the platform before the train leaves?<br />
Okay, it's possible that description only makes sense in my head, but in short- this is what I am saying: it sucks to be sick in a 'well' world, where you stand alone in a crowd.Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01056609174802415300noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6710254979359773703.post-2648774575676090992010-04-02T18:18:00.001-07:002010-04-02T18:20:06.791-07:00ISSUES.I would just like say though blogger.com is a good friend of mine, I am not too fond of it today! It keeps messing up, changing and erasing what I have written and I am just not sure why! I am going to re-post my next blog for the 20th time and see how it goes. Wish me luck!Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01056609174802415300noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6710254979359773703.post-47576686853979275572010-04-02T10:56:00.000-07:002010-04-02T11:10:53.388-07:00SACRIFICE.A couple of years ago, I was assigned a project for one of my college classes. We were to follow a media project in the news for a few months and then reflect on the issue in a creative way to present to our class. I chose to follow the release of the movie <em>The Passion of the Christ</em>, which was just coming out at that time. I wrote this poem to reflect on my research and interaction with the film. I've made a few small changes to it, but to be honest, I want to rewrite the whole thing. I have learned a lot about the 'show, don't tell' principle in writing since then. However, I think it still communicates the story of Christ's sacrifice. Maybe next Easter, I will rewrite it in a more effective way. But for now, here it is...<br />
<br />
<br />
<em>The Passion of Christ</em><br />
<br />
The story begins in a garden, late at night, <br />
When darkness reigned, <br />
Before the morning light.<br />
<br />
A fear unimaginable lay ahead<br />
Jesus kneels in the garden-<br />
With both purpose and dread. <br />
<br />
"Not my will, but yours be done," <br />
he earnestly prays;<br />
Drops of sweat drip like blood,<br />
Baptizing his face. <br />
<br />
Betrayed by his own, with a bitter kiss-<br />
Am I leading a rebellion, that I should resist?<br />
<br />
Questioned by Caiaphas, he gave no reply-<br />
'Tell us if you are the Christ.<br />
If it is as you say, prophesy!'<br />
<br />
Mocking, they beat him, again and again-<br />
His blood stains the floor, <br />
Spiky whips tear his skin. <br />
<br />
His disciples scatter, what else could they do?<br />
Peter's words burn in their ears,<br />
'I will never disown you.'<br />
<br />
Questioned by Pilate, but again no reply. <br />
The crowds condemn him; <br />
They yell, 'Crucify!'<br />
<br />
Pronouncing his own innocence, <br />
Pilate washes his hands<br />
<br />
He concedes to the crowd; <br />
their cries for murder out of hand. <br />
<br />
Stripped of his clothing, crowned by their hate, <br />
Spit on, insulted- his dignity raped. <br />
<br />
Led to Golgotha, he bears his cross, <br />
followed my mourners, <br />
All humanity lost. <br />
<br />
Weep not for me, but for yourselves, <br />
came his reply, <br />
'For if men do these things <br />
When the tree is green, <br />
What will happen when it is dry?'<br />
<br />
Crucified with criminals, a storm is brewing<br />
In pain he cries, <br />
'Father, forgive them:<br />
they do not know what they are doing.'<br />
<br />
His pain so excruciating, he can barely breathe<br />
He cries aloud,<br />
'My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?'<br />
<br />
Heaven and Hell break loose <br />
After one last breath, <br />
An atoning sacrifice complete, <br />
But not ending in death.<br />
<br />
But in his death, came life<br />
The Son's life, laid down- <br />
a perfect sacrifice. <br />
<br />
For with the fulfillment of his death complete,<br />
Death's power was lost in this life's defeat. <br />
<br />
But as we accept this life, <br />
we must first mourn his death. <br />
Let us not grow numb; let us not forget.<br />
We must also not hate <br />
Those who cursed, spit and nailed<br />
Without realizing our own hands<br />
Are blood-stained as well. <br />
<br />
We must daily see this gift through new eyes<br />
Our bodies- a living sacrifice<br />
For which he paid the price. <br />
<br />
Let us wake up each day with passion renewed<br />
For the cross of Christ, must affect all that we do. <br />
<br />
Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01056609174802415300noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6710254979359773703.post-90800852662624167072010-03-10T20:15:00.000-08:002010-03-10T20:38:53.660-08:00INEPT.I am considering buying a new computer. Until about a month ago, I hadn't even considered the possibility, because my Macbook has been a trusty friend for these past few years. However, it is becoming a bit elderly. I can't add anymore programs because the memory is full and I can't open up more than one application at a time without it freaking out and slowing down. It has become quite a thorn in my side.<br />
<br />
This might sound weird, but the other day, I felt like God prompted me to think about possibly investing in a new computer. It is not something I would ever think to buy, especially in a time when my resources are extremely limited, due to my illness. However, my main outlets/ ways of coping with my illness right now are photography and writing, both of which are done on my computer. So for right now, I am researching my options, saving up and trying to decide what computer I would like to buy when the time comes.<br />
<br />
After spending a good deal of time on the Apple website, I have decided I am a computer idiot. I don't know the difference between a GB and MB (is that even the right letters?) And what's the difference between the memory and the RAM or are they the same thing? And what do I REALLY need to increase my ability to edit my photos and what is just overpriced? And what is a GHz? (I actually did google all these things so I won't look like an idiot the next time I make it to the Apple store...)<br />
<br />
To make matters worse, I made my way over to the Adobe website to check out photoshop programs and there are so many different versions ranging from $100-$2,000! Which one do I need? And would I even be able to figure out Adobe Photoshop if I end up investing in a program someday? My confidence is waning....<br />
<br />
I have to say though, as I am writing I am realizing something profound. While these type of experiences are both humbling and frustrating, I also find a certain kind of excitement in them. Sometimes I grow tired of the monotany of my comfort zone. I tend to do the things I feel good at and leave the rest alone. This is an opportunity to learn something that I am not good at. Just think of how good it would feel if I grew confident in my knowledge of computers and photoshop: two things that scare me to death! It would be an accomplishment indeed.<br />
<br />
Here are my goals: First,I want to learn some basic terms so I can make an informed decision on which computer to buy. Second, assuming I can save enough to buy photoshop someday, I would like to go to lessons at the apple store, so I don't spend a lot of money on a program that I don't know how to use. Third, I would like learn how to organize my files better. I feel like such a computer slob.<br />
<br />
More than anything, I want to learn how to have fun with my photos and my writing and use my computer as a tool for refining these skills...Wish me luck! (I'm going to need it...)Breehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01056609174802415300noreply@blogger.com3