The night before I voluntarily head to the hospital and I can't sleep. I guess that's not much of a surprise. What does surprise me is the appalling lack of information on the program I am about to try to check myself into. There is not a single review, first person account, or even description of the facilities anywhere to be found. Which means, I cannot prepare myself beyond bracing myself for the unknown. 

This also means that I plan to pay as much attention as I can so that I can catalog the experience here for any other person who might try to find information on this program. I'm going to wait to add any details until I'm back. But I just wanted to give whoever has been reading an explanation as to why the blog is about to go dark for a couple weeks. Maybe I'll convince Erik to write a guest post. I doubt it.

Erik said to me earlier that he went to Air Force Basic Training to become better, even though he knew, for a variety of reasons, that it would be really hard. He said me going to the hospital is kind of like that. Even though we don't know for sure that it will make me better, we have to hope that it will. 

Well, here's hoping.

My husband, Erik, is going away for two weeks. He is being sent off by the Air Force for an educational thingy*, during which he will be "working" approximately five hours a day and then doing whatever he wants for the rest of the day. 

He will not learn new things. He will not have fun or relax or go see his family that lives nearby. He will sit in his room and be sad and lonely and contemplate buying a sewing machine and pretend that he will use it. Oh wait.


That's me.




*There's a title to this thingy, and a purpose, and if you ask Erik he will tell you. If you really want to know, post a comment and I will have Erik respond, because I could only explain it if my life depended on it and really, and just this moment, it doesn't.

**Also, I'm pretty sure I'm using "transference" incorrectly here.

Since my depression spiraled out of control about two years ago and subsequent hospital visits, I have slowed way down. I am easily overwhelmed, exhausted, fearful of much more than I used to be, and my energy (if I wake up with any) is quickly depleted. Most of what I get done, I get done at the computer, paying bills mostly and doing research for whatever Erik and I are planning next, i.e. trips, buying things for our apartment/house, fixing the car, etc. The action steps, that come after this research, have gotten done in large part because Erik has done it or we have done it together. He is the most effective panacea for my agoraphobia. 

Over the last two weeks, I have been extremely busy in a way that is rather unusual for me since 2011. Last week, I realized way too late that the housewarming party was less than two weeks away with no free weekend in between and with many lists of things to get done. 

Friday I went to the Madonna Center with forty other women for my church's (mostly) annual women's retreat. I have gone to the last three or four women's retreats and they have always been uplifting and thoroughly enjoyable. 

There hasn't been one since Erik and I got together in late 2010. In fact, this past weekend was the first time since Erik and I met that I have gone away and left him at home. It's usually the other way around. So when I found myself on my own, away from home, knowing Erik would be home in our bed at the end of the day, my anxiety shot through the roof. I was so racked with anxiety I could hardly think straight and I certainly couldn't pray, meditate, or connect with other women. Well anyway, I eventually managed to shake the worst of it, enjoy the weekend, and learn a few things as well.

 I got an average of six hours sleep Friday and Saturday night and came home Sunday totally wiped. I took a three hour nap and then went to bed at 9:30pm. I woke up late Monday morning with a serious 'not enough sleep" hangover and those many lists stretching out in front of me. 

And this is how I found myself more busy than I've been in years. Monday was full of completing a weeks worth of 'regular' tasks in one day, so I can spend the rest of the week preparing for the housewarming. 

Today, Erik and I overslept again. He ran off to work and I spent a half hour  cleaning up paw prints from Sanka who had jumped up and down in his own poop and then come bounding into the house. Then I ran off to work, only to grab the kiddo I was taking care of for the morning and run back to my house because I forgot the landscaper's were coming today and I had left the doggies in the back yard. I made phone calls while my kiddo played fetch with the dogs and then ran back to his house to make lunch for everyone. Home, Costco, Home Depot, Lowe's, the bank, Walgreen's, pay the landscapers, lay the rubber pavers, eat dinner, take Sanka to puppy preschool, and...and...and. 

Tomorrow, onto my 'inside the house' to do list. Oh yeah and buying more pavers to finish the back yard, finding storage benches, training the puppy, making dinner, and...

This week totally snuck up on me and then barreled right over me and kept on going. This week is one of the 11-day straight work marathons that Erik is subjected to once a month. I knew it was coming; it's on my wall calendar and my digital calendar. I still wasn't prepared.

We are a one car, one scooter family. So, when Erik works 11-days straight (and takes the car because he hasn't taken the class yet that will allow him to drive on base) it really cramps my ability to keep the house running. Trips to the grocery store are severely limited, no Costco runs, no trips with the dogs, no recycling gets taken to the drop off, etc.

My activities are limited to what I can accomplish on a scooter with barely one cubic foot of storage space. Not to mention the freakishly cold/windy weather we've been having.

Normally, I stock up before these 11-day work marathons. I'm typically prepared. The recycling goes out the weekend before, the dogs get a trip to the dog park, the pantry is full, and I'm ready to motor about to my various appointments on the scooter.

Not so, this time. This time we added a few complications just to make things interesting. Tomorrow I'm leaving for a weekend women's retreat. Erik took a contracting job working 5pm to midnight for the next three Fridays starting tomorrow. All day Saturday and Sunday he will be taking a mandatory motorcycle safety course (so he can finally take the scooter on base and leave me the car). And next weekend we're finally having our housewarming party. (Find me on Facebook for an invite.)

So what would normally be a small inconvenience has turned into a veritable tornado of deadlines and complications. Forget the recycling, Costco, and the dog park; I have to make sure there's food in the fridge for when Erik finally gets home.

So it's Thursday night and I had the car today, but I also had to work all morning, an appointment at 3pm, someone coming to the house at 5:30pm to give us an estimate on landscaping the backyard before the party, and someone else coming at 6:30pm to see about renting our extra room.

In between all of that I was supposed to do laundry, pack for the retreat, buy groceries, make dinner for tonight and something for the weekend, clean the room for rent before 6:30pm, get the dogs ready to go to the kennel, and who knows what else.

Only half of that got done and I'll give you one guess what this does to my anxiety and depression. More on that next week. I have absolutely no excuse for spending time at the computer.

Wish me luck. See you Monday!

There are days when it feels like I've lost before I've even gotten out of bed. Today was one of those days. 
Our puppy, Sanka, has taken to whimpering in the middle of the night until he wakes me up because he has to pee. Erik sleeps like the dead, so unless someone is jumping up and down on him, he's sleeping right through it. Last night, the whimpering woke me up at 3am. I got up, took him out, and at least I can say that he pees the second he gets out the door and then he's done, happy to go back into his crate, curl up, and go back to sleep. I did the same. Then 5am rolled around and Erik's alarm went off. Time for him to get up and go to work. 

On Wednesdays, I get a guilt-free pass to sleep-in. Wednesday is knitting night and I will stay up late so I need the extra sleep in the morning. So when Erik's alarm went off, I rolled over and went back to sleep. When my alarm went off at 5:20am (This is my, make sure Erik is up and getting ready alarm), Erik was still in bed. I spent the next ten minutes cajoling him out of bed. And then I rolled over and went back to sleep. 

Somewhere between 5:45 and 6am Erik came in and out of the room three different times because it was really cold today and he needed his jacket and his gloves, but he couldn't find them and he was late so he was frustrated. By 6:05am Erik was gone and I could get comfy and really fall back to sleep.

At 8am, my alarm went off for the final time. It's time to get up. Wednesday is counseling day. Every week, Wednesday is counseling day. If I don't see my counselor on Wednesday's, my week gets completely thrown off. You see, my counselor keeps me functioning. He reminds me that really I'm not that crazy, and really, I'm doing pretty well considering. But most importantly, he lets me rant and rave about whatever it is that requires ranting and raving about. I love Wednesdays. 

Despite this fact, it was very difficult to get out of bed this morning, especially since I had two soft, warm doggies snuggled up to me. So I didn't get out of bed until 9:05am and my appointment was at 9:30am. But the office is only 5 minutes away. 

I got up, let the dogs out, and got dressed in extra warm clothes because Erik had the car and I was on the scooter. I made tea, put the dogs in the crate, and then preceded to search for the keys to the scooter - all over the house. By the time I heard back from Erik that he did in fact have both sets of keys with him at work, across town, it was 9:25am and I was not handling it. 

I called my counselor, rescheduled, and resumed crying.

I should have boarded up the bed at 3am.

Last week my husband and I decided to get serious about helping Tulo get adopted. So, I sassed up his bio, gave him a good scrubbing Friday night, and set out Saturday morning to spend the whole day at the adoption clinic. 

Well, I don't know if it was the really good bath or being there to chat with anyone who even glanced in his direction, but three different families put in applications to adopt Tulo. The first was a sweet little family of three looking for a companion for their one year old son, but they live in an apartment, so I wasn't too thrilled about that match. 

Then, a man, let's call him Beck, came all in a rush asking about him because his 'roommate' had seen Tulo from the road and just fallen in love with him. They live in a great big house, with a great big back yard, doggie doors, the works, but they have a 90 lb black lab mix and if I haven't mentioned it before, Tulo doesn't like big dogs.  So, I wasn't thrilled about that match. Beck filled out an application and was so eager, he wanted to do the home visit and meet and greet as soon as possible. (A meet and greet is when a potential adoptee is introduced to an already established family dog.) So, I got the powers that be together. Lanya, who runs the PACA adoption clinics every Saturday, hooked me up with Jean, who knows a lot about dogs and frequently does meet and greets with new dogs and we scheduled a home visit and meet and greet for that afternoon.

Next up was this couple right on the edge of retiring came to look at him and thought he was just the sweetest thing (which he is). They thought it was endearing that he is timid and were just looking for a companion dog to go on walks with and keep them company when they were rumbling around their house. This sounded perfect. 

But of course, they weren't sure because they're getting ready to do some renovations on the house, and she hasn't retired just yet and what if he gets lonely because he would be an only dog? Well, I coaxed them into filling out an application just in case and hoped that they would soon call and say they'd decided to take him. Off they went. 

Three o'clock rolled around, so Jean and I set off to Beck's house. Turns out, he lives in a gorgeous neighborhood just this side of the river. Quiet closed in neighborhood, long, winding driveway, four car garage, five bedroom house, adobe enclosed backyard, etc. This is the doggie jack pot. 

Jean and I spent the next hour and a half slowly introducing Tulo to the black lab, Ollie, the two and half year old, the five year old, the giant house, the backyard, the adults, the neighborhood, etc. Of course, he wanted to follow me wherever I went, but my primary goal was simply to make sure that Tulo and Ollie were going to get along okay. It was also important to me that the adults Beck and the woman, let's call her Sally, understood that Tulo needs a crate, and really, when I say he'll only eat hot dogs has treats, I mean it. Give him hot dogs; he will be your best friend. 

Even as I prepared to leave Tulo behind, I was still nervous about the situation. And Sally started to cry. She didn't want Tulo to be sad, afraid, or upset once I left. She wanted to know what she could do to help him. 

And that's when I stopped worrying. Right then I knew that he would be loved and this woman would do everything in her power to make sure he had a good life. And if it didn't work out, she wouldn't hesitate to call me and let me know.

Jean and I took a sneaky escape out the side yard so Tulo wouldn't see me leave and I made it to the main road before I burst into tears. I gave away my dog, which is exactly how I felt until 11am this morning, when I got a phone call from Jean. She had called Sally to tell her a few more things that she had forgotten to mention on Saturday and during the call had gotten information on how Tulo is doing. He is following Sally everywhere, stuck to her like glue, sleeping in the same dog bed with all 90 lbs of Ollie and loving his two walks a day. I cried again.

I am so happy for him. Before he came to stay with us, he was an un-groomed, frantic, panicky mess. Without his time here, it's possible he never would have been adopted. Now he has the skills he needs to manage the world as part of a pack and truly enjoy the rest of his life.

To learn more about adopting rescue animals and fostering, like we did for Tulo, visit the NM PACA Website.

Yesterday I had dog on the brain. I was absolutely incapable of accomplishing anything else. My brain was foggy, scattered, and every time I tried to get it in order I was attacked by dog. Here's why:

Meet Sanka, our newly adopted three month old puppy. They told us at The Animal Humane Society that he is a Dachshund Chihuahua mix, but really I don't believe them at all. I haven't actually measured his legs, but I swear they're at least a foot long. No way he has any Dachshund in him. So we're thinking maybe there's some Italian Greyhound in there, but really we have no idea. He weighs about 8 lbs now, and I imagine as/if he gets bigger we'll have a better idea of his breed(s). Really though, it doesn't matter. 

Because when you're this cute, it doesn't matter what kind of dog he is or how big he gets. (Especially since, at the very least we know he won't be much bigger than 30 lbs. And that much, we can handle.) 

Our other dogs weren't too sure about this little one at first. (And yes, I said dogs, plural.)

As you can see, Tulo is still living with us and he doesn't look too happy about our new visitor. We are currently fostering Tulo, working on his 'living in a house' skills and general training. As you can see, he has begun to make himself quite at home. (If anyone is interested in this little guy, please let me know! He's completely house broken, loose leash trained, comes when he's called, and loves to play with other dogs.) Mostly, he loves to snuggle, which leads me to this:

The perfect place for my two newbies while I'm working. You can just see Koda's nose out of the picture on the bottom right. For a while, I couldn't even get Koda to sit still long enough to get a photo of her. She is stinkin' cute, but she HATES having her photograph taken. No, really. Also, I think she's protesting the presence of another lap dog in HER lap, but she warmed up eventually. If you can call wrestling "warming up". 

This is the closest they'll get if my lap isn't part of the equation. But, we've only had Sanka for two days, so I think this is wonderful. 

Sorry again for not posting yesterday, but as you can see I quite have my hands full. There were a few moments yesterday when I suddenly felt like a mother outnumbered by her children. You know, you're coasting along with two (assuming there are two parents in the household) and you think you've got it handled, so you say 'hey, this is fun, let's have another' only to figure out too late that having a third totally throws off the ratio? Yeah, it's kind of like that, or at least the closest I can come to imagining that since I have no children of my own. 

Puppy Preschool starts in two weeks. I wonder if we'll all make it that long!