#WeekendCoffeeShare (October 24, 2021)

Hi everyone. It’s really sunny out this Sunday afternoon! How about you join me for #WeekendCoffeeShare. I had quite a lot of coffee so far today, as I went out to McDonald’s (well, through the drive-through) with my husband for lunch and had coffee there. It was better than the coffee I had at Subway last week. Then when I came back to the care facility, I had a cup of coffee again. If you’d like a cup of it too, I’m pretty sure there’s still some left, as my staff said her colleague had just made a fresh pot. Let’s have a cup of coffee and let’s catch up.

If we were having coffee, I’d almost invite you to the balcony. It’s sunny, after all, but quite cold. Besides, the balcony is covered in fallen leaves. So I guess we’ll sit indoors after all.

If we were having coffee, I’d share that I managed to get in 12.5K steps yesterday. That’s a huge win, as I had thought my physical condition was declining slightly. Apparently not.

I also went on the elliptical for half an hour on Friday and am planning to go onto it for another 30 minutes later this evening.

If we were having coffee, I would tell you that all this is slightly comforting in light of my probable IBS symptoms and the upcoming abdominal X-ray. I mean, if it’s something very serious, I guess I’d have other symptoms, such as unexpected weight loss or declining physical fitness. Please all still pray for me that the X-rays will show something easily treatable.

If we were having coffee, I would share that my husband bought a new car. Well, he’s going to exchange it for our current Volkswagen Golf on Wednesday. It’s a Daihatsu Cuore, a very small car. His VW is still in relatively good shape, but both of us wanted a cheaper car with respect to gas usage, insurance and tax. With the deal he got, my husband says he’ll have saved enough on these to cover the cost of buying the Cuore within the year. I must say I feel a lot better about this car than I felt back when my husband bought the VW.

If we were having coffee, lastly I would share that I woke up after a nightmare early this morning. It wasn’t yet time for my one-on-one to arrive, so the morning staff helped me put on my music pillow and settle back to bed. I thankfully slept well for about an hour and a half after that. I am really hoping this means that the topiramate is working. I mean, my nightmares aren’t your standard scary dreams and as far as I’m aware, topiramate doesn’t suppress REM sleep altogether, but it does seem to make it easier to let go of anxiety-inducing dreams.

How have you been?

My Ideal Home

I’ve been thinking since yesterday about the prompt I mentioned I found in Day One: What would your ideal home look like? And since I have nothing else I want to write about right now, I thought I’d paint a word picture of my ideal home. Of course, this post is going to describe the physical look of the house. Like I said yesterday, home is where I can be myself and that cannot mostly be achieved with material things.

I’m going to design my ideal home as I want my living space to be. I’m assuming in this case that, if it will be a home where I live with my husband, he’ll get his own space. I am also not going to bother with practicalities such as having to clean a large space, since, well, this is just a dream.

First, my house would have a bottom floor and a top floor. It might have an attic too for storing random bits and stuff, but I haven’t decided on that one yet. In my husband’s and my real homes, both back in the tiny village and in Lobith, I could not/cannot reach the attic, after all.

The bottom floor would have a living room with two very comfy, large couches. In addition, there’d be a recliner. There’d be a living room table just about big enough for drinking tea. There’d of course be a TV.

The living room would be attached to the dining room, where there’d be a dining table. We’d have an open kitchen, so it’d be in the dining room really. That way, if my husband is cooking and I’m in the living room or diner, we can still talk.

The kitchen would of course have an oven, a microwave, a dishwasher and a stove. If I get my way (and yes, I do, as this is my blog!), it’ll be an induction stove.

Then on to the top floor. That floor would have three separate bedrooms for me: one bedroom which I’d share with my husband, one sensory room and a craft room. Oh, I’d also need an office, but that’s as simple as a desk and a chair so could be crammed in with one of the other rooms.

The sensory room would of course have a water bed with its own internal music system. It would also have an essential oil diffuser. Other than that, there’d be lots of soft toys, and my yoga mat and fitness ball.

The craft room would have enough room for a table to work on and a chair, as well as lots of storage shelves. It would have its own microwave, fridge and sink to clean my hands.

Lastly, there’d be a bathroom. That one would have a bathtub that could be filled enough with warm water to cover my entire body (my care facility’s bathtub can’t). There’d also be a separate shower for when I don’t feel like having a bath. There’d obviously be a washbasin to brush my teeth at. I don’t think I’d want a second toilet here. Now of course I forgot to put a first one at the bottom floor, but oh well, I’m not an actual architect, am I?

That’s it I think. What would you want to include in your ideal home?

Unsettling Dream

Last Monday, I had an appointment with my nurse practitioner. First, I said that I was doing pretty well. This is a big step for me, as I’m not normally accustomed to saying I’m well. He started talking about decreasing the frequency of our appointments and possibly even working towards ending my treatment. While I was able to say that this is far too early for me, at least talking about termination, it all still unsettled me.

I mean, I’ve had my latest med tweak only two weeks ago. Two weeks prior to that, I was in a major crisis.

Honestly, looking at it this way, it seems nuts that he even mentioned terminating. This honestly confirms my fear that if I’m doing well, it automatically means I’ll lose my help. Thankfully, I was able to keep myself from panicking and calmly told him that I’m not ready to stop my treatment now or in the foreseeable future. After all, I still want to lower my Abilify dose and that’d take a psychiatric provider to supervise too.

We eventually agreed on a re-evaluation in December or January and to keep the frequency of my appointments as it is now until then at least. My nurse practitioner already seemed to make it pretty clear he really wants to decrease our appointments by then, but oh well.

The following night, I had my first trauma-related nightmare since going on the topiramate. It wasn’t a direct reliving of a traumatic event, thank goodness. However, my dreams rarely are.

In my dream, I was standing on top of the Erasmus building of Radboud University in Nijmegen, a 20-storey building. Someone I didn’t recognize but who sounded strangely soothing was holding me in a comforting embrace. Then, she said: “Sit down please. I can’t hold you any longer.” Just as I was going to sit down, my right leg slipped and I was standing there with my right foot hanging in mid air. Then I awoke. I immediately realized the symbolism in this dream.

I had the sensibility to press the call button and the night shift came by. Thankfully, she didn’t just soothe me, but encouraged me to actually tell her my dream, which I did. She then confirmed that I’m not in Nijmegen now, but in Raalte.

Needless to say, I’m going to make sure at my next appt, my nurse practitioner understands that just because I’m doing well for a few weeks, doesn’t mean I’m ready to quit my treatment.

Not Quite California Dreamin’ #SoCS

SoCS Badge 2019-2020

When I was a teen, I dreamt of going to the United States in my third year of college. After all, I was going to be an English major, choosing American studies as my specialty. Then in my third year, I would be incredibly motivated and talented and would be allowed to go on an exchange student visa to the United States.

I had already picked my preferred cities to go to. Most were suburbs of Boston. First, it was Lynn. Then Somerville.

Then, at one point, I got obsessed with Columbia, Maryland, a suburb of Baltimore. Then, finally, Silver Spring, MD, a suburb of DC.

None of these were college towns as far as I know, but I always dreamt of going to college in the city and living in the suburbs eventually. Because, after all, with my incredible talent (ahum) and affirmative action, I calculated that I’d be allowed to stay for some professional career and never go back to the Netherlands again.

Now that I think of it, it’s interesting that I never dreamt about going to California for my studies. I would say that most people choose either the east or west coast. At least people from Europe most likely do, with the Midwest, South and Great Plains being far more conservative. I just envisioned living in New England or the DC area.

And just for the record, it all never came true. I never even majored in English at university. I still haven’t been to the United States, though I hope to visit there someday. Mostly to meet some people I know.

This post was written for Stream of Consciousness Saturday (#SoCS), for which the prompt this week is “Cal-“. I could’ve written about calendar calculation, calories or Calibre (an eBook management tool). Instead, some of the other participants’ posts inspired me to write about my American dream.

Weird Dreams

It’s already Thursday here, so I’m technically a day late to join in on Fandango’s Provocative Question. I’ve never joined in on this meme before, but I really liked this week’s question. It is to share the strangest, weirdest dream you can remember.

I already shared about the dream that got me to quit putting sugar in my coffee some months ago. That wasn’t as weird a dream, considering that refined sugar is by some people considered pure poison indeed.

Another weird dream that had an impact on my later life is one I had when I was about seven-years-old. I dreamt that there was a big soccer match between Ajax and Feijenoord, the two main rivaling clubs in the Netherlands and the only ones I’d heard of at the time. I apparently was an Ajax fan and they won. So far, nothing weird, except that I knew nothing about soccer and certainly wasn’t a fan of any club. The weird bit comes now: someone gave me some pills that made me cry, so that everyone would think I was sad and hence supported the “right” club.

As a side note, I lived in Rotterdam at the time, so indeed Feijenoord would’ve been the club to support. I became a wannabe Ajax fan as soon as I learned anything about soccer at all, as my friends at the school for the blind were Ajax fans. This was probably after our move to Apeldoorn though.

Like I said, the dream had an impact on my later life. Indeed, when I went to the school for the blind at age nine, I got a phys ed teacher who looked a lot like the man who’d given me those pills in my dream. I took an instant dislike to him and even though I knew why, I couldn’t help it. He was a pretty strict teacher, so I may’ve disliked him anyway.

What was one of the weirdest dreams you can remember?

Worrying: Will I Be Kicked Out of the Care Facility?

I have had a lot of dreams in which I was kicked out of the care facility lately. They’re no fun. I don’t know why I have these dreams. I mean, yes, a new client may come to my home, but I didn’t find out about that until today. Besides, my staff say it doesn’t mean I’ll have to leave. After all, there’s still an available room in my home.

Still, it scares me. I worry that, if this other client needs a lot of support, I will not get my needs met. I mean, not because of this other client, but because staff will be busier. Oh my, this sounds incredibly attention-seeking. I don’t want to need more support than I can get.

And what if this other client is very noisy? He’ll most likely be assigned to the other communal room than the one I’m assigned to. However, I think he’ll attend my group at day activities, which is already very crowded and noisy as it is. I was told they had many more clients before I came, but well, then this place wouldn’t have been suitable to me.

I talked about my worries to my former support coordinator on the phone. She told me these are just my thoughts and there’s no reason I’ll have to leave because of this other client. Then again, I didn’t get to elaborate on my worries.

I don’t want to be seen as needing too much. I was often seen as needing too much. Either needing too much or claiming to need more than I got. The two are different. The people at the first day activities I attended with this agency, truly thought I needed one-on-one support most of the time, which isn’t even what I was asking for. The staff on my last psychiatric unit thought I needed little care but was just demanding a lot out of some feeling of inadequacy that was apparently unfounded. Either way, I was asked to leave the place. With the psych ward, things were a little nastier than with the day center, but the result was the same.

I saw the behavior specialist who worked for that first day center today. That fueled my worries even more. I mean, she was extremely supportive, but didn’t really know how to handle my issues either. Then again, she never got to talk to me beyond the one time when she made sure I got transferred from the industrial activities group to the sensory group. That was a good move, but when it didn’t fully work out, I guess the manager stepped in and said he’d been accommodating enough and I would have to leave. That’s what I think will happen here too. I mean, my staff are very accommodating, but what if it isn’t enough? Will we find other solutions? Will I get even more accommodations? Or will I at some point just be kicked out? I’m very unsure and that worries me.

#WeekendCoffeeShare (January 19, 2020)

Hi and welcome to another installment of #WeekendCoffeeShare. I can have coffee again, as my flu is gone. It was gone already at the end of last week, but for some time, I still didn’t really enjoy coffee.

I also tried Optimel, which is a type of no-fat yoghurt drink, today. I initially thought it was based off buttermilk, the idea of which has me so disgusted that I don’t even want to try it. It is based off no-fat yoghurt though and it was good. If you want to try it too, I think we have some in the fridge.

If we were having coffee, Optimel or another drink, I’d share that this week has been eventful. I already wrote about it a lot during the week, as I seem to have gotten quite a bit of writing mojo back. That’s good! I also enjoy the comments on my blog and am trying to engage with you lovely readers more. I also love reading and commenting on other blogs and seeing people respond to my comments.

If we were having coffee, I’d share that the week-end was good overall. I had some nightmares again, but was able to keep them from interfering with my day for the most part. Still, I’m considering raising the issue of my vivid, bad dreams with my mental health treatment team.

If we were having coffee, I’d share that my husband didn’t have time to collect all my soaping supplies yet, but we’re probably going to sort through them another time together. I think I may order some supplies online this coming week, but am not sure. My husband and I agreed on throwing out all the ingredients, as they’ve probably gone past their expiration date and aren’t too expensive. At least not if I only buy what I need and don’t end up ordering random stuff in large quantities.

If we were having coffee, I’d share that we succeeded at getting my photo taken at the photographer’s yesterday. This is for my public transportation pass. There are really strict rules on photos for IDs and passports, but mine isn’t due for renewal for another five years. I want the transportation pass so that I can travel to my husband by train. You can get an anonymous one too, but then you can’t load discount subscriptions or the like onto it. Now I will still need to digitally apply for the pass.

If we were having coffee, I would share that my husband and I ate out at La Place, a restaurant chain we often have lunch at, yesterday evening. It was okay, but rather expensive for the quantity and quality of the food. Lunch usually is much better.

If we were having coffee, I’d be sharing that I was an overachiever according to my Fitbit yesterday. It probably says so if I get over 12,500 steps a day. I got 12,700. Today I made up for it, as I sat on my ass almost all day.

#IWSG: My Future Writing Self

It’s the first Wednesday of the month and that means I’m linking up with the Insecure Writer’s Support Group (#IWSG) again. I did okay in the writing department this past month. To be honest, I’ve been thinking about writing more than I actually wrote. To mention how I’d like to write more in the coming month, seems like a pointlessly repetitive statement though.

However, the optional question for this month’s #IWSG is to envision your future writing self. Let me share.

My future writing self will have finally taken a course on memoir writing. I’ve been looking at them but, since they’re usually really expensive, I don’t feel I can invest the money in them. Then again, if I ever want to be successful as a writer, it’s going to be as a memoirist. I mean, let’s face it: I can’t write poetry or fiction that’s catching at all.

I will then have written and maybe even self-published my own memoir. I don’t need to earn any money off of it, but I’d love it if other people read my story.

My future writing self will also have written more on this blog, including actually poetry and short fiction. She will not feel as self-conscious about her writing as I do now. I mean, no, my writing may not be the best when compared to other people’s, but it’s the best way I can express myself.

My future writing self will actually be able to sit and plan a story or, like I said, a memoir. She will be able to actually complete the work she starts even if it takes longer to write. In the past, I could actually write longer stories and I even have a few unfinished novels. I don’t intend on ever publishing a work of fiction except on this blog, but I do wish to have the patience to complete something that could be turned into a book. Right now, I impulsively start a ton of projects I think will be great, but drop them again within hours to days.

For example, I have been thinking of starting a prompt-based writing challenge. No, not another word-of-the-day challenge. They’re great, but there are enough of them on WordPress already. Rather, I’d like to start a journaling challenge based on prompts around self-discovery and reflection. I already registered a WordPress site for it, so in a hurry in fact that I initially accepted a missspelled subdomain suggestion. I fixed that (registered another blog with a correctly spelled address), but now I’m stuck. I don’t lack inspiration, but I have no idea how to go about actually promoting this challenge to the masses and am not even sure my idea will catch on. Then, the fact that I cannot create images to go with my posts, is holding me back, because whoever finds a short prompt that doesn’t have a catchy image with it? Maybe this idea is bad indeed, but I wanted the #IWSG community to know about it. We’ll see what 2020 will have in store for me.

Dream #SoCS

I have a lot of vivid dreams. They suck at times. Sometimes they’re good dreams and I”m sad that they’re just dreams, but most times, they’re really distressing dreams. A few weeks ago, I dreamt that my husband was going to divorce me or I was going to divorce him because somehow (I can’t remember the details) my past identifying as a lesbian was getting in the way. Either I decided I was a lesbian after all or my husband got tired of me having identified as one. Or something. That dream had me distressed for days because I thought it somehow meant something. Like I was unconsciously unfaithful to my husband, which I have no intention of ever being.

Other times, I dream that I’m kicked out of or leaving the care facility. This also scares me, because I am to be very honest not 100% sure it was the right choice to go into it. I mean, yes, it’s much better for my self-care, but it does mean my marriage gets strained by my husband and me not being able to see each other as often as we’d like to or as we used to.

Last Thursday, I was in a bit of a crisis. I had been in the snoezelen® room for two hours on Thursday afternoon and as a result, couldn’t sleep. I also worried about my inability to travel to my husband each week by paratransit due to the limits on how much you can use that service. The fact that I had been in the snoezelen® room for so long and this is not the first time and I’m not sure what I can do during the day, made me think back to my old day activities. Then the fact that I cannot travel to my husband by paratransit even coupled with trains each week, made me think of leaving the facility and going back to live with him. I know this would be unwise in the long run, if for no other reason then because my spot at the old day center has been filled up already.

I E-mailed my staff at the old day center. Then I ran off. I made it to the bottom of the stairs, near the fire exit, before I realized I didn’t really want to run off. By then, the sleepover staff had heard me and called the night staff. She comforted me and I was able to go back to sleep. Back to more dreaming.

I am linking up with #SoCS.

Working On Us Prompt: Sleep Disorders

The past few days have been pretty busy, so even though I did want to blog, I hardly found the time. Now it’s already latish evening too.

Today I’m once again joining in with Working On Us, for which the prompt this week is sleep, insomnia and other sleep disorders.

As a child and teen, I suffered from insomnia a lot. I would often be awake for the whole night or hardly sleep at all. On week-ends, I sometimes made up for it by sleeping in, but I was definitely chronically sleep deprived. Though my parents sometimes suggested, and I don’t know whether they were joking, that I take valerian or melatonin, I wanted nothing of it. In fact, when I was going in for eye surgery at age seven or eight, I refused the tranquilizer they offered us before the operation. I also constantly fought the anesthesia.

When I was 20, I sought treatment for my insomnia for the first time. My GP prescribed temazepam, the most commonly-used sleep medication here in the Netherlands at least at the time. I was very scared when first using it, being that I’d not taken any medication in years, not even paracetamol.

I think that what lay underneath both my insomnia and my refusal to take medication for it, was an intense fear of losing control. I was, after all, pretty compulsive particularly as an older child and teen.

My sleep issues escalated in 2007, when I lived on my own in Nijmegen. Though I didn’t sleep less than I had as a younger person, I did suffer from the effects of sleep deprivation more. When I was admitted to the psychiatric hospital, the first medication I was prescribed was again temazepam. Then followed another few benzos and even levomepromazine (Nozinan), which is normally only used for palliative sedation.

I had to take “twilight anesthesia”, which means high doses of benzos, several more times prior to procedures and chose them over the pain that would otherwise ensue. However, I still had terrible fear when I “awoke”.

Other than insomnia, I’ve had an assortment of other sleep issues. My husband said at one point that I have hypersomnia, because I slept so much. This was probably down to a combination of medication, vitamin and iron deficiencies and lack of structure.

I am a sleep talker and I snore too. The snoring got slightly better as I lost weight last year. I’m not sure whether it’s worsened again since I’ve gained weight back up again. The sleep talking comes and goes with stress.

Lastly, I suffer from vivid dreams and nightmares. They’ve gotten a little better now that the long-term care situation is more or less settled, but during times of stress, I very often awaken in a state of shock because of vivid dreams. That is, I’m not 100% sure they’re REM sleep dreams or night terrors (which happen during stage 4 sleep). I’ve never had a sleep study done either.