Learning To Live

It's 1am; I'm feeling a little silly and I have a hippopotamus who wants to say Helllllooooooooooo! -- Post From My iPhone

I want to make changes to my site. Like linking it so that every post shows up on Facebook. And I want to redo my profile. My life isn't just about CF - it's also about dealing with my mental challenges (PTSD, Depression, Anxiety, etc?), and the mysterious lack of energy I have. Also fibro and endometriosis. MAN I am a cool chick with a ton of problems. Lastly, I'd like to include that I deal with a host of other crazy influences in my life. I found this email from December '08. I was planning a trip to San Jose/San Fran with my friends. I went on the trip and it was wonderful... but this is what happened leading up to it: 12/19/08 Thanks, Dad. I will pay you back [for the plane ticket]. Mom woke me up this morning and told me that I've ruined Christmas. So much for her not going ballistic. She also went on for at least 10 minutes about how steep San Fran is. I set the phone down and ignored her. And I'm a horrible person for not taking no for an an

I want to be more open and honest about my mental issues/illnesses/craziness. Whatever you want to call it, I want to talk about it. I was young. 10 years ago. I thought I could handle it. Is it my fault? I've learned more and more of people who would have supported me. Was I wrong to keep quiet? Does it make it my fault? The only thing I did wrong was keep quiet. He is the monster. I was ashamed. I am ashamed. I am ashamed I still have problems so many years later. I'm ashamed I don't have an answer when people ask me why I didn't ask them for help. I was ashamed. I thought I brought it on myself. I thought I would be okay. I'm not okay. What happened isn't okay. What the police told me isn't okay. The fact he is still alive and breathing isn't okay. I understand how families feel when they want the death penalty for the offender. I want it. I'm still afraid. I still cry. I still have nightmares. I still have flashbacks. I want to work on all th

I would like to talk about my vacation to Vegas and the wonderful experience of meeting a CF online friend, but I'm exhausted. So here's this little post instead. For Easter, my dad got me a purple stuffed hippo pillow/friend. Her name is Hattie Dear Hattie, Thank you for helping me when I thought nothing could help. Thank you for calming me when I was having flashbacks and was crying myself to sleep because I was so scared. Thanks for helping me fall asleep after my brother helped calm me down by singing me camp songs. It was a really rough time mentally, and I think I'm doing better. I took you to Vegas just in case, but I did really well. You make a good travel companion and make sleeping on a plane so much easier! Also sleeping on the floor in the airport. And sleeping in airport chairs. I woke this morning wondering if my family was up yet, and then realized that I was alone, and it was okay. Thanks for your help, Hattie. Love, Carla -- Post From My iPhone

This is just for you, Dad. We're waiting for O to start, so I had time to take and post this. :-). And notice I'm wearing my new Cirque zip up sweater! -- Post From My iPhone

It has been more than SEVEN months since I have had IV antibiotics for my cystic fibrosis. I know I say this every time another month passes, but I used to have to do them every 2.5 to 3 months. So this is a BIG deal. But it's not like I thought it would be. I thought I'd have more energy and be SUPER CARLA! Able to do many crafts and babysit and dance and socialize all in one week! And able to organize and keep her house clean! And she now does the dishes and laundry too! Except that's not what this is like at all. And it confuses me. I should be super excited that I have gone this long without a hospital stay or doing home IVs. I haven't had to risk losing more of my hearing or doing more damage to my liver and kidneys. Those are very positive. I haven't gotten so sick where I can barely breathe and barely move. I enjoy that. But again, I'm confused because I thought this would be different. I still sleep a lot. More than most people. More than

I recently have tried to make my blog more positive. To stop ranting. Because I get a shitstorm of bad comments when I complain. Too damn bad. I need this rant today. First is denial. I ignore my limited energy and do everything I want to do. Then I end up lying on my brother's couch unable to move and he and his roommate have to drive two cars three hours total to get me home. And I feel guilty. Then I try to ration my energy. But I'm filled with complete saddness because of the things I can't get done. And now there is anger. So much anger I'm hurting myself again. Maybe I need to cut back. But I can't. I love doing everything I'm doing. But the emotional rollercoaster is killing me. I don't want to talk about the trauma. When you get me started I can't stop and I end up asking my brother to sit on my bed and sing me to sleep so I don't have any more flashbacks. I never want to talk about it again. I feel like I should write every single thing I ca

The stuffed side of the room One last old couch photo Empty side of the room Where I had to put the couch so the new one could come in Hello rug! I haven't seen you this clean in a long time! Coat rack in the kitchen For those of you anxiously waiting for photos of the completed quilt - here's an in progress photo. New couch I Love You!!! -- Post From My iPhone