Worry

BVI, day 7

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We saw another rainbow this morning as we were leaving Scrub Island.

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This morning Stan caught a shark! We decided to eat fish tacos for lunch with the fish the guys caught (not including the shark). By doing so, we took the risk of fish poisoning. Fish poisoning is from a toxin found in certain reef fish. We had an illustrated page that told us what our risk would be if we ate certain fish. The problem was that there were a lot of fish that looked very similar.

Fish poisoning is not like any regular food poisoning. It is like food poisoning on steroids. It can last for years, cause hospitalization, and in some cases death. This was something that I didn’t want and I was nervous that someone else’s interpretation of the guide for safe fish could be subject to error. I suggested that perhaps someone who knew how to sail the boat should abstain, but I didn’t get any takers. We all risked eating the fish.

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Monkeys Point is paradise. It’s the kind of place I could stay at forever. It had a secluded white sandy beach and the bluest water. I am glad that we did not go there the night before, the weather wasn’t the best for the beach. I would’ve liked to stay here longer, but our trip was coming to an end and we had to make our way back.

Paul and I explored the beach while the others went snorkeling. We were hoping to find a place for supper, however the only building on the beach was the property of a private resort. That night we would be eating supper on the boat as well.

We hooked up to a mooring ball that was not maintained. Tim reinforced the mooring ball with rope. It was still very windy and we did not want the wind to whip the boat into shore. The sand swirled around into our eyes on the beach. But at least today is warm and sunny.

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We still had to pay a mooring ball fee of $30 to stay at an unmaintained mooring ball. That is what we had to pay every night for a maintained mooring ball.

This cairn was located at the end of the beach. There were coconut trees on the beach. The guys were entertained by trying to take a stick and knock one down. They were unsuccessful in their efforts.

This spot had the best beach by far. It was very secluded, but on the flip side there really wasn’t anything to do there as far as restaurants, shops, and entertainment.

Would I go back again? Absolutely!

 

BVI, day 4

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Cara got sick during the night and we ate the same thing. I feel fine. Cara was also feeling seasick. She slept a lot while we were sailing.

We left this morning heading to Cooper Island. We stopped at the Indians for a short snorkeling trip on the way. We still didn’t see any sharks. We were told if we did see a shark to make eye contact and stand our ground, not swim away frantically like I would instinctively want to do.

I decided not to snorkel with everyone else and opted instead to take photos of the incredibly scenic area.

We are heading into the wind today so we motored instead of sailing. It is very windy and wavy. The journal I am writing this in got wet on the bow. Paul was worried about my safety. We were very careful to make sure that everyone was accounted for at all times.

I feel so very far away from home. It is really difficult not having a way to communicate with those at home. Cara was able to access data on her cell phone and spoke of another snow storm that was supposed to hit home. I was worried about my son driving on the roads. But I reasoned to myself that he was in his element while we were out of ours. Maybe they should worry about us with the rough seas and sharks.

We got to Cooper Island at lunch time and decided to go to shore to eat. It was a lovely place. I ordered a bacon cheeseburger and fries. They also brought Cara the same meal although she just wanted a hamburger. She sent her meal back, they scraped off the cheese and brought it back. With Cara’s sickness and trouble with her meals, I jokingly said if we have any problems we might have to throw her overboard. It would be a shame because she did all the work to plan the trip.

After the meal, we went to the gift shop. Paul bought a swimsuit and I bought a Cooper Island Brewery shirt. The problem was I didn’t try any of their beer. I solved the problem by buying a keepsake mug of beer at the bar next door. It was the best craft beer I had on the trip. However, the local craft beer options were very limited.

After lunch we went snorkeling and saw a manta ray. Stan saw a shark while snorkeling. We hit a patch of rain in the dinghy on the way back to the boat which was chilly. It seems to rain several times everyday for about 10 minutes keeping everything damp. We saw beautiful rainbows for 4 days in a row starting today.

We saw another turtle with fish sucking on it. Paul caught one of the turtle sucking fish with his fishing pole. It looked like a cross between a worm and an eel. The guys spent the evening fishing.

I’ve been having a hard time sleeping. It is hot and humid at night. Most evenings it rains and I get wet through the hatch over the area where we sleep. I’ve been waking up stiff with a backache. I’ve been having a hard time relaxing. I feel sad and disconnected from the group because I am worried about those at home and have been having a hard time just letting it go. Sometimes it takes a few days and I wish it didn’t because it is frustrating. As if being close to home will prevent accidents from happening. Anxiety apparently cannot be reasoned with.

I had to escape my fear to truly enjoy the time away. It did happen eventually.

 

 

BVI, day 3

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We set sail this morning after the orientation. We had a captain accompany us at the start of our journey today to determine our ability to sail a 40 foot catamaran. Well, I shouldn’t say my ability since we would all be screwed if I sailed the boat.

Paul and Tim were our main sailing crew. Paul completed 95% of the paperwork to be a captain through the U.S. Coast Guard with a sailing endorsement. Tim took some sailing classes. Both men own sailboats of their own. Stan is an avid boater and fisherman. Cara was in charge of cooking, Angela did meal prep, and I was on the clean up crew. We could’ve hired a captain and chef for the whole trip, but decided not to.

Once we set sail, a cupboard door popped open spilling out glass plates which broke into shards on the counter and floor. I felt bad because I was the last one to go into that cupboard. Maybe I didn’t close it all the way? I felt embarrassed that I failed at the one job I had. We tried to clean up the glass, but it didn’t stop people from stepping on glass shards during the week.

We left that morning and truly were going to be off the grid. We opted to go without wifi since it would cost $30 a day. I couldn’t use my data plan since it would be very pricey. For all practical purposes, Paul and I were totally inaccessible which Paul loved and caused me a lot of anxiety. Paul and I were the only ones with children at home. Cara has an adult child from a previous marriage, the rest are child free.

We sailed to Norman the first day. We got a mooring ball and snorkeled by the shipwrecked party boat, the Willy T. There were tons of tropical fish under the Willy T. We saw a turtle with 2 sucker fish attached to it and a whole school of what looked like little king fish.

Later we took the dinghy out to the caves nearby for snorkeling. There were some pretty big fish there and Paul wanted me to snorkel into the cave with him. I bought a snorkeling mask that covered my whole face and I could breathe like normal in it. It was more expensive than regular goggles, but worth it. The only problem I had was when there were waves, water would leak in and it had to be resealed.

I followed Paul into the dark cave. Since I could breathe like normal through my mask, I could smell something horrible. I wasn’t sure what it was at first. The fish started getting smaller as I went deeper and darker into the cave. There were tons of weeds on the surface which freaked me out a little. As I neared the end of the cave, the water became shallow and I stood on the rocks. That is when I heard the squeak of bats. I was out of there! Paul rubbed his leg against a rock and ended up with a nasty rash. It was a great place to snorkel, but I wouldn’t recommend going into the caves.

That evening we went out to eat at Pirate’s Bight. What I was expecting on this trip was small quaint towns with gift shops and that our boat would be on a dock every night with wifi. That did not happen. Every night we grabbed a mooring ball. Gift shops were few and far between. We only had wifi once during the trip. I saw a gift shop that night and asked the hostess how long it would be open. She replied that it was always open.

The island consisted of a restaurant, bar, and gift shop. That’s it as far as I could tell. The bar was closed for a private birthday party. We ordered our meal at the restaurant. I ordered the grouper in a buttery caper sauce with sweet potatoes. Cara ordered the same, but found a hair in her food. The grouper was good, but there wasn’t much there and no capers could be found in the sauce. The sweet potatoes seemed like regular potatoes with sugar on it. The food wasn’t the greatest, although it was very pricey. I had a banana daiquiri which was very good however.

After supper, we visited the gift shop. The woman behind the counter was rude and angry. When we walked in, she told us that the store was closing in 5 minutes as she glared at us. She was so rude that we decided not to buy anything. Later I wondered if they made her stay late because I asked how late they were open.

That night Cara got sick. I wondered if I would get sick too. We ate the same thing.

 

Leaving tonight?

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I thought that things would be a little less crazy this week, but I was wrong.

My son was trying to sell something online for us and almost got scammed. A person sent my son a check for over the asking price for the object and told him to take it to the bank right away.  He did because the bank was closing soon and he didn’t know what to do. Then the person was going to have his “moving person” swing by and pick up the object along with the extra money for moving the item to another state. It seemed a little fishy, but everything happened so fast that I didn’t stop my son.

When Paul heard about it later, he worried it was some sort of money laundering scheme. He dug around online and found out it was a scam. The scammer sends a legitimate looking check for over the price and tells the person to give the money to the mover who is stopping by to pick it up. The person who picks it up steals the item and the money then the check bounces. Our item was scheduled to be picked up the day we are leaving for vacation.

Yesterday morning, I went to the bank and expressed my concerns about the check being fraudulent. Upon closer examination, the bank also thought it was a scam. Unfortunately, when the check bounces my son’s account with be charged. I feel bad that I didn’t stop my son from putting the check into his account. We both thought something wasn’t right but ignored it because they were pressing my son to cash it before the bank closed the night before. It really didn’t give me enough time to think.

It just started the day out bad yesterday. But it didn’t end there. Someone pulled out in front of me and I skidded on the ice almost hitting them. The roads here are still horrible. Last Monday we got a foot of snow. Then we had 4 days of temps in the double digits below zero, followed by an ice storm, followed by more cold weather so the salt didn’t melt the ice.

Oh, it gets better. Then my husband went to the dental hygienist and she refused to treat him because his blood pressure was too high. Yesterday Paul had several meetings with key clients to try to save accounts. After I lost my position at the company we previously owned, clients got a little skittish with all of the changes. The meetings were stressful for Paul and he was running late to his appointment. His blood pressure was 185/107. They told him he needed to see his doctor immediately.

Paul had appointments all day, but kept monitoring his BP. His BP has been borderline high for years. By the end of the day, his BP was still high and the nurse said to take him to the ER since he also had a slight headache. Off to the ER we went. I was paranoid by all of the illnesses we were exposed to last night. If I didn’t think my husband could wind up dead during the night from a stroke, I wouldn’t have risked it. Ah, the things we do for love.

We spent the evening with Paul in a hospital bed, in a gown with an IV in his arm watching the state of the union address. The nurse came in and jokingly said that the SOTU was giving her high blood pressure. Even though no fight ensured about politics, Paul’s BP was still high when we left so they gave him medication. We left to drive home through another snow storm. Big snowflakes and sleet pattered against the windows, but we made it home safely. I certainly did not want to go back to the ER.

This morning there was 4 inches of snow over glare ice. Arabella fell on her way out to the car for school. It’s just nasty out there. Paul spent hours plowing everyone out. Then tonight we are expecting freezing rain followed by another 6 inches of snow. Paul and I are planning on flying out early tomorrow morning for a sailing vacation in the British Virgin Islands with friends. I hope we can leave.

I will be taking some time off of blogging. You are probably sick of my whining and complaining anyway. When I get back, I will write a travel series about the trip and lighten things up a little. I try to do that after things get a little heavy. Then I will be back at it again.

Well, I better get packing.

Goal 9: Work hard, but take time to rest.

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One of the hardest parts of losing my job is telling people what I do.

When meeting someone new, the first question that they ALWAYS ask is what you do for a living. The second question people ask is how many kids I have. Never fails.

Yesterday I went to the gym later than usual. Someone asked me why I wasn’t at work. I think people are just too nosy.

Two days after I lost my job some friends had a party at their house. Right off the bat, someone asked me what I do for a living. The question hit me hard and knocked the wind out of me. What? I didn’t have an answer prepared. I stumbled awkwardly through the whole story of how my husband and I sold our business last year and that the new owners recently eliminated my position unexpectedly.

My answer seemed to confuse people more. Is it a good thing that you lost your job or a bad thing? Yes, the answer is yes to both. Losing my job after working with my husband for 11 years was very hard. Not to mention that as a workaholic I wrapped a lot of my identity in my work. Yet it was a good thing because now I decided to write a book.

Now do I tell people that I am an author when they ask me what I do?? Then I have to explain what my book is about which is very personal and painful experience of growing up with a disabled sibling in an abusive home environment.

If I am a writer, I should be able to come up with a creative way to tell people what I do for a living in one word. If I tell people I am retired, that brings up even more questions since I look a lot younger than I am.

Then I decided to tell the next person who asks that I am independently wealthy just to get a good laugh. Would that shut them up?

The strange thing about not working is that I really don’t have any extra time. I am still running around like I am in a hurry. I keep a strict schedule. I drop my daughter off at school, go to the gym for an hour or two, write my book, then work on this blog. Plus I do other things like clean the house, laundry, grocery shopping, cooking, and run errands. Now I wonder how I was able to do all of this while working 30+ hours a week.

You know how the saying goes, ask the busiest person that you know if you want to get something done.

I’ve always been a workaholic. I feel very stressed out if I don’t accomplish enough in a day. Resting is a form of torture and usually only happens when I am sick. One day I had doubt about writing the book and said that heck with it, I am going to watch a show on Netflix. My daughter came home from school, saw me watching TV, and was concerned I was sick. She felt my forehead for signs of a fever and was worried about my health.

Relaxing is something I rarely do. But it is something that I want to learn how to do. I’ve always had the harsh workaholic task master of perfectionism pounding constantly in my head. If I learned anything from losing my job, it’s that I can’t let how much I am able to work control my life and dictate how much I am worth as a person. It is a wonderful way to avoid relationships and look like a martyr.

Working hard was something I was good at and I ran with it. There are few that top my work ethic and determination. But it controls me. I’ve learned anything that controls me isn’t good for me. I am no better than an alcoholic looking for the next drink. I am always searching for the next project, the next goal, and I am viewed as an inspiration and a hero for doing it.

I am afraid of success. What will I do next? Running marathons is not enough. How about a 50k? I drive myself to the ground. Are you proud of me now? What more can I do to prove my worth?

It is a great way to avoid intimacy. I am in the middle of something and am too busy to talk with you right now. What a safe place to hide.

If you give me a hard time, I will condemn you of your laziness with great pride.

Then I wonder why I can’t relax. I am worried and stressed when my mind is free.

Here I am, a workaholic without a job. I never ask for help. I do everything myself. I think I am beyond reproach, but I can’t run from myself.

I am starting to see a wonderful coping mechanism being torn apart. Maybe it is a good thing I lost my job because I am now faced with myself.

You can only outrun your demons for so long.

 

Doubt

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Would you be willing to hurt people you are closest to in order to help strangers?

Fear that is toxic. Anxiety whispers an endless echoing rhyme. Worry incessant. Doubt creeps in like a vine that entwines the wrestling demons running around in my mind.

I’m not sure I can do it. It’s too risky. Who do I think I am? Do I really think this will be a bestseller? Do I really think that my poison will be a tonic? Do I really think that my story is going to make a difference, change things?

Really, Alissa, you couldn’t even save your own family.

The thoughts painfully pierce my poorly healed wounds. The scabs tear away and bleed onto my parched paper skin. The memories scratch at the demons inside. They wreck havoc on my mind. Tears slip from my eyes.

Now I understand why there aren’t a lot of siblings telling their stories. I get it now. It is too painful. If the story is going to be effective, I have to be brutally honest. But that honesty is going to hurt, not just myself but other people.

Tomorrow I have a meeting with a lady from the local autism group. She wants me to be on a panel representing siblings of autistic children in front of a group of parents. There are not a lot of programs available for siblings because they are ‘normal’. I think that is very tragic if a child needs help and doesn’t receive it because they aren’t special enough.

My goal is to write a book about my story as a sibling. I want to advocate for siblings. My thought was to write a book and donate a certain amount of the proceeds to go towards helping siblings that are struggling through support groups and therapy, etc. Just how it is all going to come together is not totally known to me at this time. I would be willing to donate my time and money to help other’s struggling through what I’ve experienced.

Maybe tomorrow I will have some answers. But as for today, I never want to write again. I want to delete my blog. I want to throw the book that I started into the trash. I feel unsettled, almost angry and sad. Restless.

I am at a crossroad of sorts. Will it make a difference? Am I just picking at scabs and bleeding out into my words? Will it heal me? Or will it hurt me and those I love? Should I just let it go?

Will I be able to help others? Am I being delusional that I can make a difference? Would it be worth it if my story can help someone contemplating suicide if  my family turns away from me? Maybe my vision is too grandiose?

I am absolutely terrified, but I think it will be worth it.

What if I don’t help anyone and end up alienating myself from my family? Do I have the strength and courage to do what needs to be done?

I have my doubts.

Goal 6: Try new things/explore different interests/be fun/enjoy lifelong learning.

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When I was younger I was afraid to try new things. Now that I am older, I long for something new.

When I was younger, I never thought I was good enough or smart enough. But being older, I don’t really care if I make a fool out of myself.

This morning I went to an exercise class for the first time. I was the only one in the front row, all the other spots were taken. Front and center for everyone to watch me make mistakes. But I don’t care anymore. Besides I am old enough to know that everyone else is really concerned about themselves and how they look. If they make fun of me, shame on them.

Everyone has been very welcoming though. I took a strength training class for the first time this week and everyone introduced themselves and helped me set up my equipment. Someone even cleaned and put away some of my stuff. They even gave me helpful suggestions and asked if I was coming back.

I have to admit, I’ve been rather shocked lately about the kindness of other people.

I’ve been trying new things, like exercise classes. I also bought an Indian cookbook. I  tried making a few recipes this week. They turned out okay, although it has been a real challenge to find the ingredients I need.

The most exciting new adventure for me this year has been to start writing a book. I am still terrified about this! I’m not sure how it will turn out, but I keep pecking away at it every day.

I don’t have to be perfect nor do I even need to be good to enjoy trying new things. It took me a long time in life just to learn that.

 

Goal 4: Worry less/let go/learn how to relax and handle stress better

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I’m sure you’ve heard of the phrase ‘let go and let God’. It is something that is a lot easier said than done. I really wish there was a step by step manual on how to do it like an idiots guide or something.

Is it a process? Is it something that just happens? Will I be able to turn off my worry someday like a faucet? Or will it incessantly drip until it drives everyone, including myself, crazy?

How can I relax? How can I handle stress better than I already am?

How can I let go of these children that were once mine to hold onto? How do I let go of a business that I once helped build? How do I let go of past hurts? How do I trust God? Is there a dummies guide?

Maybe eventually I will figure it out. But until then I want to keep working on it. I don’t want worry to rob me of my joy in life.

The cough

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In the midst of everything else going on, last week my husband Paul went in for a CT scan.

My husband has had a chronic cough for years. He finally broke down and let me make him a doctor’s appointment. I was worried especially since his mother and an uncle both passed away from lung cancer last year. His mother and grandmother who lived with him smoked during his whole childhood. His mother smoked while pregnant with him. But it was the 1960’s, people smoked in libraries. Almost everyone smoked back then and no one thought much about it.

Then after Paul left home, his mother quit smoking and he started. He smoked for almost a decade. He was exposed to cigarette smoke in some shape or form for half of his life. He had close family members die of lung cancer. I was worried.

That day at the doctor’s office, they made him wear a mask because ‘cough’ was listed as his symptom. He glared at me in contempt and muttered muted garbled words of unhappiness through the mask. Look what you made me do! I am not even sick! The doctor set up a urine test and blood work along with an appointment for a CT scan several weeks later.

After the doctor appointment, we ate lunch at a Chinese restaurant. He received a fortune cookie that stated he would enjoy good health for a long time. See! I’m fine!!! It’s probably just allergies.

In the meantime, we worried. We worried more after I lost my job.

What if?? What if I have cancer like my mom?? How am I going to work? How are we going to make ends meet? How am I going to handle the lead part in the show if I have been given bad news the same day?

What are we going to do?? It took our minds to dark places…

The morning of the show, Paul left home early for the CT scan. A few hours later, we received the results. Everything was fine. No cancer! Praise God!

I’m just fine he said with a cough. May the fortune cookie be right. May he have good health for a long time.

This time another crisis was averted. I can’t bug him anymore about the cough, but I bet he will bug me about the doctor bill. Knowing that I did everything I could and having a peace of mind that everything is okay is money well spent.

 

 

 

Is it normal?

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I imagined the way it would be in my mind. Thick heavy intricate snowflakes dropped with a plop on the cold empty ground. There were horses with jingling bells pulling a sleigh behind it. Hot chocolate stirred with a candy cane. It’s a picture of us trying to find that perfect tree. Even the boy with the face tattoo is there. He is the one taking the family picture of us finding that perfect tree. A ray of radiant light shines through the snow on the right one. We are all smiling and happy.

It wasn’t that way at all. It was raining and the kids had other plans. Paul ran out to the closest tree lot by himself and picked out the tree. But it was that way once. The problem is that I still expect it to be that way now. I spent some time that afternoon crying curled up in my bed playing lullabies that I once played for my babies. Is that normal?? I am off my rocker, literally and figuratively this time.

Is any of this normal?? Paul and I have been struggling lately with this very concept. This will be the last Christmas break that our whole family will be together. Angel is not planning on coming home after college this year. Alex will be graduating (hopefully) this spring and moving on. Arabella is still seriously interested in becoming a foreign exchange student.

I put a lot of time into this whole motherhood thing, and now my kids don’t need me anymore. Who am I now? I am excited to have time to myself to do the things I always wanted to do. But I never thought that the letting go process would be so painful.

Our son is really struggling right now. Although he is 18, we still have boundaries and rules because he is living in our house. We have been asking ourselves if his behavior is within the realm of normal. It was hard to let go of our firstborn, but she was heading off to college and we knew that she would be okay. We feel unsure about the future of our son.

There are really only two scenarios. Our son is completely normal. Then the problem is with us. We need to let him go even if he has to fall on his face a few times. He has to figure things out for himself. We need to let him go even if his future isn’t what we planned on it being.

The second scenario is a bit more troubling. What if he has mental health issues? Then I think it is our job as his parents to make sure that he gets the help he needs. But he is an adult. Is it our job to try to fix him?

Would you try to save someone from drowning if you knew that they knew how to swim??

I think that our son is normal. But what is normal? People have been asking us if he is depressed. I don’t think so. But I’m not sure. I want answers. I want to be guaranteed that he will be okay.

Letting go of a kid to go to college is normal. It is painful, but you are also happy that they somehow became fully functional adults with you as their parents.

But what happens if you think they are not ready yet?

This has been my struggle lately. I probably won’t get all the answers I’m searching for. Plus it doesn’t help that I have unrealistic expectations in my head of how I expect things to be…the way they once were, but no longer are.

Is any of this normal?