Song Lyrics That Speak to Me – Call Me When You’re Sober by Evanescence

Call Me When You’re Sober by Evanescence

Call me when you're sober

Don’t cry to me.
If you loved me,
You would be here with me.
You want me,
Come find me.
Make up your mind.

Should I let you fall?
Lose it all?
So maybe you can remember yourself.
Can’t keep believing,
We’re only deceiving ourselves .
And I’m sick of the lie,
And you’re too late.

Don’t cry to me.
If you loved me,
You would be here with me.
You want me,
Come find me.
Make up your mind.

Couldn’t take the blame.
Sick with shame.
Must be exhausting to lose your own game.
Selfishly hated,
No wonder you’re jaded.
You can’t play the victim this time,
And you’re too late.

Don’t cry to me.
If you loved me,
You would be here with me.
You want me,
Come find me.
Make up your mind.

You never call me when you’re sober.
You only want it cause it’s over,
It’s over.

How could I have burned paradise?
How could I – you were never mine.

So don’t cry to me.
If you loved me,
You would be here with me.
Don’t lie to me,
Just get your things.
I’ve made up your mind.

This one is for those to whom most of it applies, and I don’t mean the alcoholic bit.

Copyright Ridingthebcrollercoaster.com 2012 All Rights Reserved.

Awakening

I think cancer is causing this awakening for me…

awakening

There comes a time in your life when you finally get it … When in the midst of all your fears and insanity you stop dead in your tracks and somewhere the voice inside your head cries out “ENOUGH! Enough fighting and crying or struggling t…o hold on.” And, like a child quieting down after a blind tantrum, your sobs begin to subside, you shudder once or twice, you blink back your tears and through a mantle of wet lashes you begin to look at the world from a new perspective………..This is your awakening.

You realize that it is time to stop hoping and waiting for something or someone to change, or for happiness safety and security to come galloping over the next horizon. You come to terms with the fact that there aren’t always fairytale endings (or beginnings for that matter) and that any guarantee of “happily ever after” must begin with you. Then a sense of serenity is born of acceptance.

So you begin making your way through the “reality of today” rather than holding out for the “promise of tomorrow.” You realize that much of who you are and the way you navigate through life is, in great part, a result of all the social conditioning you’ve received over the course of a lifetime. And you begin to sift through all the nonsense you were taught about :

– how you should look and how much you should weigh,
– what you should wear and where you should shop,
– where you should live or what type of car you should drive,
– who you should sleep with and how you should behave,
– who you should marry and why you should stay,
– the importance of bearing children or what you owe your family,

Slowly you begin to open up to new worlds and different points of view. And you begin re-assessing and re-defining who you are and what you really believe in. And you begin to discard the doctrines you have outgrown, or should never have practiced to begin with.

-Sonny Carroll (Awakening)

~via Soulfire Sacred Bodywork~

This is beautiful, and I think true for me, thanks to my breast cancer, and is put in a very positive light.

I don’t think it necessarily feels so positive to some other people in my life.

As I go through this transformation:

– I may be less likely to have conversations they want to have because I Don’t want to have it.
– I may be less likely to respond in conversation the way they expect me to.
– I may be less likely to respond to them in other ways they way they expect me to.
– I may not give them the time and/or attention they want or expect.

I think you probably see where I’m going here.  I’m simply no longer the person they think I am or who I actually used to be.  From my perspective it is all personal and positive – I Literally do not have time and/or energy to devote to things I no longer care about – and I do not do this out of Any malice whatsoever.  Still, I realize it can be disconcerting and confusing.  But that’s for them to work out, not me.

I’m definitely still in transition, a limbo I am accepting and quietly ‘being’ with until it shifts in its own time.  I don’t know who I’ll be when I come out the other end or what my (personal) life will look like or who will and won’t be in it.  (The basics of my life – Hubby, home, work are not likely to change – but even they, I suppose, could – NOT that I’m looking for them to.)

I’ll keep you posted.

Personal reflections – Copyright Ridingthebcrollercoaster.com 2012-2013 All Rights Reserved.

Song Lyrics That Speak to Me – Fuckin’ Perfect by Pink

Fuckin’ Perfect by Pink

Made a wrong turn once or twice
Dug my way out, blood and fire
Bad decisions, that’s alright
Welcome to my silly life

Mistreated, misplaced, misunderstood
Miss ‘No way, it’s all good’
It didn’t slow me down.
Mistaken, always second guessing
Underestimated, look I’m still around

Pretty, pretty please, don’t you ever, ever feel
Like you’re less than fucking perfect
Pretty, pretty please, if you ever, ever feel
Like you’re nothing, you’re fucking perfect to me

You’re so mean when you talk
About yourself. You were wrong.
Change the voices in your head
Make them like you instead.

So complicated,
Look happy, You’ll make it!
Filled with so much hatred
Such a tired game
It’s enough, I’ve done all I could think of
Chased down all my demons
I’ve seen you do the same
(Ohh ohhhhhhh)

Pretty, pretty please, don’t you ever, ever feel
Like you’re less than fucking perfect
Pretty, pretty please, if you ever, ever feel
Like you’re nothing, you’re fucking perfect to me

The whole world’s scared, so I swallow the fear
The only thing I should be drinking is an ice cold beer
So cool in line and we try try try but we try too hard
And it’s a waste of my time.
Done looking for the critics, cause they’re everywhere
They don’t like my jeans, they don’t get my hair
Exchange ourselves and we do it all the time
Why do we do that, why do I do that (why do I do that)?

(Yeah!)
I’m Pretty, pretty, pretty

Pretty, pretty please, don’t you ever, ever feel
Like you’re less than fucking perfect
Pretty, pretty please, if you ever, ever feel
Like you’re nothing, you’re fucking perfect to me
(You’re perfect, you’re perfect)
Pretty, pretty please, don’t you ever, ever feel
Like you’re less than fucking perfect.
Pretty, pretty please, if you ever, ever feel
Like you’re nothing, you are perfect to me.

This one is for Hubby, or, well, from Hubby to me actually.

A few weeks ago, we were going to meet after work on a Friday at our local mall to go shopping together on my way home from work (because it wasn’t going to happen on the weekend – too damn tired – and meeting because it also wasn’t going to happen if I went home we would then go together  – again, too damn tired, once I was home I was home) and when I was leaving work he was pestering me to download a song he had bought to listen to on the way home.  Nope, couldn’t deal with it.  Figured I’d get to it later.  This had to be at a time when I was struggling with some of the appearance-related side effects of one or another of the cancer treatments/medications I’m dealing with.

So we met at the mall, Hubby was disappointed that I hadn’t done the music thing he wanted to, we did our shopping, and while heading to our cars took my phone and cued up the song.  I was getting frustrated; I did Not want to deal with this right now, ok?  So, he got it cued up, I put it on repeat on my way home from the mall, listened to the lyrics and cried all the way.

When I got home and saw Hubby, I asked him (in a slightly challenging voice, and of course knowing the answer, but needing to hear it out loud: “Are you trying to tell me something?”  Hubby: “Yes, yes I am.”).

Well, Hubby’s not perfect (and neither am I by a long shot sometimes, so that’s okay), but he can be pretty amazing – like that night.  He knew I needed a pick-me-up.  And it’s one I go back to over and over again when I’m having a hard time (which, in primary cancer treatment could be any old day, for no reason someone outside me can necessarily see): I can feel Hubby’s love anytime I want, without him even knowing it – by listening to the song he downloaded for us, consciously and deliberately to send me a message.

Copyright Ridingthebcrollercoaster.com 2012 All Rights Reserved.

I’m lucky enough to have found a man who was taught and lives this.

I’m reblogging for those women who have not yet found the man who will love them like this, and for those women who have never had a man like this in their lives, so they don’t know what to look for in their mate – use this as at least one of your decision points about who to give your time, energy and attention to – about who to keep or not keep in your life.

I wish for every woman to find a mate (of whatever gender works for her) who will love her like this – as is mentioned in the post, Not because she can’t take care of herself, but because we all deserve to be loved like this.

Copyright Ridingthebcrollercoaster.com 2012 All rights Reserved.

I Don’t Always Have to Say It Myself

Observations from the Kitchen Sink of Life posted on the value and catharsis of storytelling.  I’ve tried to explain this to people, but this post did it so beautifully – explaining for me why I’m here, on WordPress, and at large on the internet.

My favorite parts:

. . . Then there are events that grab you by the shoulders and shake you violently, or even pull the ground away from beneath your feet. The landscape changes rapidly and dramatically, as if by an earthquake. The flow changes course so rapidly and so fundamentally, that it transforms you all the way down to the fiber of your being. When you regain consciousness, when you reconnect with the Earth beneath your feet, you see a vastly different landscape. Familiar in some ways, but different nonetheless. You just buried a parent or close friend, you just heard a devastating diagnosis or somebody you trusted shattered that sacred bond. . . .

Some events shake harder than others.

. . . Some friends, people who have always loved you for your essence, will be able to keep walking with you in your changed landscape. Other friends will evaporate and become echoes, pictures in that scrap book. . . .

I’ve heard this about a cancer diagnosis, and although I’m deliberately holding off on making permanent decisions until at least after the ‘magic year’ is over, I can already see this in play in my life.

. . . Story telling is a powerful way of processing experiences, of transforming karma. . . .

. . . We tell our stories to process, to celebrate, to educate, to discover, to reach out. Because we choose to, because we have to. . .

Yes, that’s why I’m here, on WordPress, because I have to tell my story to survive it.

And the ending paragraph:

. . . Telling your story is a way of saying “this is who I am”, “this is the journey I traveled, this is how I got here”. Naming that journey and the most significant events on that journey opens up space, liberates and is an essential part of processing those events. The most beautiful and powerful gift somebody could give you for telling your story is saying “I see you” (in one of many ways you can say this). But even if you don’t get any feedback, just the mere act of telling your story is  healing.

All of it, but particularly the last line, yes, please, yes.

Read the rest of this great post at The Importance of Telling Your Story.

Copyright Ridingthebcrollercoaster.com 2012 All rights Reserved.

I Feel Better and I Hurt More – Go Figure (Possible Oversharing Warning)

Last week – After my hormones cycled – I realized I felt better.  Now, whether Mom or Hubby or my work friends would say I feel better from what they’ve seen, I have no idea.  I also was still so mentally, emotionally, and physically exhausted by Thursday night that I cried just from exhaustion.

And yet, I think I’m starting to feel better, at least temporarily [please do not lose sight of the title of this blog – that metaphor is used for many very good reasons], and when I say I feel better, it may not last long.  In fact, by the time you read this, it may no longer be the case, but I’m sticking with it for now.

So why do I say that?  Well, first – last week I made a joke – I mean a joke that was not dripping in bitterness or sarcasm (“Um, Bitter, Party of One?” – Shit, I resemble that remark).  It’s a little thing, right?  Wrong.  It’s a big deal after not being able to joke at all, about anything, for so long!  Hubby was in the middle of a story when I stuck my little joyful zinger in there and he continued on with his story until I stopped him and prompted him to acknowledge it.  Some things need their own moment, ya know?  Then, of course, I reminded him what he was saying and listened until he finished his story.

And then there are the following chicken/egg observations:

Time:

It has been six weeks last Monday, October 8, 2012 since my second surgery.  I was told by my RSurg that I had a 10-pound lifting limit until six weeks after surgery.  Now, six weeks is some maybe more, probably less arbitrary time period where a certain amount of healing has taken place, and well, I’ve hit that time point.  My physical therapy has been going well, and although I still think about stretching, extended-type movements, I’m finding I have to ‘pull back’ less or not at all to avoid the pain that is disappearing from those actions.

Sleep:

Last week I started taking Benadryl to sleep.  Sleeping without it just wasn’t happening, and everyone, to some degree or another, does worse when sleep-deprived: pain hurts more, concentration and focus disappear, tempers get short, food choices are harder to keep healthy, energy level drops, mood is more fragile, etc. – we all know the drill.  I was taking 1/2 a Benadryl and upped it to a full 25mg tablet/capsule (keep in mind many people need 50mg or 100mg to get to sleep).  I’ve found that if I give myself more time to sleep I have less of a hangover in the morning from it.  And I’m starting to wake up feeling more rested too.  Of course, that too, doesn’t last long.

[You know how when you’re getting better from being sick, one morning you wake up feeling good, but then you get out of bed and you don’t feel good anymore?  And then the next day you wake up feeling good again and it lasts a couple of hours?  And so forth, until finally you feel good all day and you realize you’re fully well?  Keep that progression in mind, it applies here to many aspects of my current experience, but can also get set back to zero in a heartbeat – roller coaster, remember?]

PMS – Hormones:

A month ago I had a perfect storm of ‘things’ happening on a Thursday night.  Just plain tired with it being Thursday and all, I was irritable due to (unbeknownst to me) it being the day before I realize I’m getting sick, And the hormones were raging (they would crest the following day).  I was seesawing between anxiety at a level of 11 on a scale of 1 to 10, and bawling my eyes out and Not Feeling Any Better For It!

Well, normal service resumed and things crested again this past week, and I noticed in retrospect that while I did get somewhat testy (right Dad?) [But please do keep in mind on general principles that hormones can make things seem worse than they might otherwise seem, but they Do Not create anything out of nothing!], I was in no way as out of control as I was a month ago.  Of course that could be due in part to…

Meds:

1) Anti-Depressant – After last month’s meltdown (I told my family and my MOnc – when things calmed down some – that I had Never felt like that in my more than 4 or 5 years of experiencing this particular phenomena), I contacted my MOnc who authorized me to increase my dosage of this med.  Of course, there is a break-in period anytime one changes dosage on this thing.  So I think I finally got to equilibrium with that.

2) Pain Meds – Not sure how this thought occurred to me – prolly some combination of Mom making a suggestion that I try this, and realizing that I was waking up hurting as I turned over in bed – I began adding 1/2 an Ultracet to the evening Pharmaparty in my hand.  That seemed to help, but I still was waking up hurting when I turned over, so I upped it to a full Ultracet and that (combined with a Benadryl) maybe is allowing me to get some restful sleep and wake up feeling more refreshed sometimes.

Meds Side Effects:

In a deliberate attempt to be obscure here so as to avoid the blatant oversharing label – let’s just say some of the side effects of some of the meds I’m taking seem to have mellowed some in the last week, and so I’m feeling physically slightly lighter.  Moving on…

Pain:

Yes, the title of this post is not a misprint.  I’m feeling better And I’m having More pain.  Weird, I know.  As the swelling continues to SLOWLY recede, the places where it has been so severe that the tissue actually feels hard to the touch (on both sides, mind you) are getting noticeably smaller.  Reminder: everything a double-edged sword – nothing all good or all bad.  As the swelling recedes, the numbness begins to recede.  As the numbness begins to recede, the first sensation reawakening nerves transmit is, you guessed it, pain.

As the swelling recedes, the shape of things changes, allowing some incisions – ahem, I won’t specify, but where is the most cosmetically friendly place to cut to remove something from one of the girls? – (and the sensitive, traumatized skin around them) to experience increased rubbing.  Right.

Plus, after my biopsy, I experienced, in addition to pain in the boob itself, these odd, almost shooting-star-type pains in my abdomen – both front and back, far from any of the incisions at all.  I’m having the joy of those again.  🙂  My MOnc warned me about them as a consequence of my two surgeries, not knowing I’d already experienced them in the aftermath of my biopsy procedure.  They’re weird pains too –

– nothing specific brings them on or makes them better or worse
– they’re stabbing, cutting, shooting-star feeling things
– they are removed from any sensible cause like an incision or swelling
– they can be anywhere from 2-7 on a scale of 1-10
– they don’t last very long (my MOnc told me by the time I take something to treat them, they’ll already be gone – and I’ve already experienced that he’s right about this)

[Any medical professionals recognize P-Q-R-S-T?]

This Blog:

When I first got diagnosed and could not control the thoughts racing around in my head [See “A Tornado In My Head”], it was suggested to me more than once, by more than one person, that maybe just getting some of the thoughts out on paper would help settle things in my cranium.  And indeed, I Know that works for me with chores and tasks type stuff.  Once I get it out of my head into an app that will remind me when needed, I can let it go and move on to other things.  But, for some reason, the idea of putting this down in some black hole (this was how a journal just for myself felt to me) didn’t seem like it was going to do the trick.  And then I started this blog.  Somehow, the fact that this is being sent out into the world feels like the ‘release’ I need (or at least a start thereof), and I’ve been doing this blogging thing about two weeks now, give or take.

I’ll leave it up to you to opine on why I’m reporting I’m feeling better:

– simply time passing
– getting more restful sleep
– having less PMS
– better meds balance
– less meds side effects
– more pain (I have no idea, I plead cancer brain)
– emotional release from blogging

– chicken
– egg

– coincidence?

– or some combination?

I’m open to your thoughts on the matter (though I reserve the right to veto them if they conflict with my reality) but I am curious to hear them…