Is it Possible?

So many things that float around in my head. Seriously. Like hot air balloons, they just float around in there, bumping off the neurons and spinning out into inner space. Ideas that aren't fully formed, things I try to memorize, conversations I don't seem to remember the way I once did... But old, long-term memories seem to be intact.

Talked to Steph (cousin) a few days ago. I was telling her how my mind seems to be on vacation of late. She laughed and said to her it sounded like typical menopause. Well, I am 47, so I suppose that's a good possibility. Just...I don't feel 47. At least not most days. It's like my 25-year-old person-self is hanging around in my 47-year-old body. And that younger version of me feels cheated. Maybe even...yes. Violated. Hmmm. Like there's some kind of revolt going on in there and the old part of me has regressed to the mindset of a 2-year-old who is sitting in the corner, arms folded, eyes averted, after just having thrown a major kicking and screaming temper tantrum. Pouting. Knowing there's really not a lot that can be done. Or is there?

So I was watching TV a few weeks ago and saw an advertisement for Lumosity.com. It's this website where you can do brain-training exercises. (And, by the way, I think that's the thing I tried to memorize one night--the something I mentioned in here on the first blog post.) I went there. You get the first 3 days free. Seems kinda cool but I'm not paying their fee to play. I'll get out my mahjong games or something first. I did do the free three day thing. The games remind me of the old Nintendo, with the target gun (one game) and then a tiles thing, and ...hmmm...something else I don't remember. LOL! Guess that doesn't lend itself to a glowing recommendation, if I can't even remember the 3rd game! heh heh heh

But I do wonder...is it possible that a brain can be retrained to be as sharp and quick as it once was? It's weird, but I think it is. I just don't know how to go about doing it. (Suggestions, anyone?) I've been doing a lot of knitting, crochet, sewing...but they're all pretty solitary tasks and Nels is very quiet most days. We have not been watching a lot of TV these days. My grandma used to say that TV did little more than pickle the brain in its own juices. (I think she may have been right, by the way)  She called it "The Idiot Box." Hmmmmm. Theories, anyone?

I am rereading the 4 book series I wrote back in the early 2000's. In the 2nd one now. So much I didn't remember. I want to finish the 5th (almost done) and 6th (1/2 done) so I can do the 7th and call it good. I do think that writing would be a great brain exercise (hence I'm sitting here now). Vocabulary, keeping names, dates, faces and places right--although I usually use a cheat sheet for verification. It's scary when you forget stuff.

I don't really have any alzheimer's symptoms or I'd be panicking, not making fun of myself. It's more...like I just can't focus for long on any one thing. Jeez, if this is what my mom's always dealt with, I'm gonna be cutting her some serious slack from here on out. This sucks.

Sigh.

Back to it.

Have a good day.

Small Steps

Well, it's almost ten a.m. on Saturday morning. April 7th. My mom's birthday. I need to call her today and I hope I don't forget.

I had a couple of long talks with two of my closest friends this past week. Kymm and Georgia. I discussed my current malady with both of them.

Kymm: I hear what you're saying, Ang. It's--in a word--m-e-n-o-p-a-u-s-e. It's NORMAL. It'll pass. (I found myself believing her, completely. I just wonder if I'll still have friends/family when the day it's passed is over!)

G: Welcome to my world, sister. (Ahhhhh, G. It's good to know because misery loves company.)

However, neither of my friends' words fixed my problem. Shoot. I was hoping for some kind of miracle cure or...I don't know. Maybe a magic potion that I could take or practice that would bring back the ol' brain pan's contents into fully-functional gray goo. At least they didn't laugh at me.

It's so weird. I once took an I.Q. test. On a scale of 180, I hit a 168. I had a college prof, some years later, who said that I.Q. doesn't really measure any "intelligence quotient" but really tests a person's ability to concentrate. Instantly, I knew that he was right. It made sense. I'd always been able to look at something--anything--and be fixed on whatever it was. The color, shape, numeric value, fragrance, whatever. And it would affix itself into my memory. Now, I look at something and feel myself slipping...s i d e w a y s. Like only one small part of my mind can stay fixed. As if...well, the best illustration I can give is this:

• Imagine a five-foot-by-five-foot glass mirror on the floor. Now imagine a rock that's roughly the size of a softball smashing down into the center of the mirror. The center of the impact zone on the mirror is destroyed and there are concentric rings going outward from that impact crater. The glass has broken in all directions from that center of impact; large shards that extend from the center all the way out to the edges. 

THAT is how my thoughts feel when I'm doing...anything...lately. I remember seeing that image in my mind's eye all the way back in 2001 but it was still manageable. Now it feels like a snowball going down Mt. Hood (big snowy mountain in Oregon), picking up steam and getting bigger...and bigger and bigger. I'm unable to yank my thoughts back into some semblance of order. I could back in 2001.

So, how do I find my way back to the normal that I used to know? I'm sure there are exercises--brain exercises--that I could do. I'll have to give it some thought.

If I can remember to do so, that is.

I'm pretty blessed in my life. I want to live in those moments. I want to remember them, experience them fully, and participate completely. I want to be awake in my life, not just ...I don't know. Surviving? Not sure that's quite the right word, but as Dad used to say, "It's close enough for government work."

My kids, all four of them, make me proud and happy that they're mine. Each of them has some sort of stand-out quality. And nope, it's not just me, being their momma, that makes that true.

My first-born, Sophie, is almost 30. She was born three months before I turned 18 (I got married on my 16th birthday--eek!) back in 1982. She's beautiful (again, not just my opinion, but that of about everyone that's ever laid eyes on her), an extremely talented vocalist and she loves the Lord her God. She's my exotic-looking child. With almost asian features (her eyes, mostly), her gorgeous, lustrous, curly dark brown hair, full, red lips and easily-tanned skin, she's gorgeous. She's got a beautiful body and she works out doing kick-boxing. Works as a hairdresser by day and sings (I think it's more rap than singing, yikes) some evenings at local venues. She's been through some tough stuff during the past couple of years but she's come out of it pretty strong. So proud of her. I was worried there for a while but God really does protect what He owns. (Thank You, Jesus.)

My second-born, Amy, will be 29 in July. She was born barely after Sophie turned 1. She was the sweetest, smiliest baby. Even tempered, slept a lot, she was a joy. She has huge brown eyes, beautiful, light skin, full lips...she's a beautiful girl and the wife of a handsome, intelligent man. She has two little boys, Kyle (who'll be 2 in May) and Ethan, who was born in January. They are striking looking children; Kyle with his big brown eyes and perfect features and Ethan with his cobalt-blue eyes and amazing smile... Amy works as a paramedic with Rural Metro emergency services, as does her husband Matt. They love the Lord Jesus and make him the center of their lives. Amy has always been very bright and easily comprehends whatever task she sets for herself. She has a beautiful heart, mind and spirit. She is head-over-heels in love with her husband and children. She loves her momma (!!!) and her dad...and her step-parents. Stubborn to the core but usually 100% right in her values and decisions. She makes me proud. She's honest and straightforward.

Third: Paul-Michael. My only son. My earth-bound angel. I somehow knew he was male from the day I discovered I was expecting him. He was never any trouble, not from the day he was born. Compliant, kind, incredibly bright, respectful...he knew what he wanted to do with his life from the time he was seven. A pastor, like Rod Vermillion (our pastor back in those days) he would tell me. With his huge, deep-brown eyes, his (formerly) thick dark hair (which, sorry to say, has thinned out as he approaches 30, much like his father's did) and his 5-foot, 10-inch body, he is also a very attractive man of 27. He is an extremely talented vocalist, guitarist and drummer. He leads the worship team at church, preaches from time to time and has even officiated at a wedding (or more than one--not sure). He lives what he believes. He's so intelligent. He thinks before speaking (imagine??!) and always gives honest, thought-out replies to questions he's asked. He has the quickest mind and tongue when he's in a humorous mood. His humor-fed sarcasm just kills me. He makes me proud to be his mom, every day.

And fourth, Evie. Evangelina, actually. She will be 26 in November, which I still can hardly believe. I remember clearly being preggo with her, I remember the day she was born like it was yesterday. I remember holding her and being stunned that she had eyelashes over 1/2 inch long on the day of her birth...with fine, perfect eyebrows, a tiny rosebud mouth and a head full of black, shiny hair. If she'd been bigger (she was almost 6 weeks early and weighed just a bit under 6 lbs.), it would have been easy to imagine that she popped out of the womb at a year old! She did everything early. She crawled upright on hands and knees at 4 months (and she weighed just over 9 lbs. at the time--she was always tiny); ate things like ham and cheese sandwiches at 6 months; was walking--albeit a little tottery--by 10-11 months; started saying words other than ma-ma and da-da by 10 months and forming complete sentences by 14 months. She is the wife of Seth and the mommy of Elina and Bella. She is into recycling/repurposing, gardening, cooking from scratch and using only organically-grown foods. She is really bright, incredibly beautiful and one of the sweetest, most tender-hearted people...ever. She loves the Lord and teaches her babies about Him.

So, see...I have all the reason(s) in the world to get out of the blue funk. And I'm working at it. I have been thinking about the changes in my life over the past five years and there's one particular area that I've begun to pinpoint that I am beginning to believe is the root of my current...issues.

I never used to begin any project with even the thought of, "what if I fail?" or "what if I suck at this?" Not ever. I always thought (without conscious effort), "I could do that..." or, "Ooh! That's going to be fun and amazing WHEN I finish it!" I don't think that was arrogance; it just never dawned on me that failure might occur. And it never did. Seriously. I can't think of anything that didn't go just as I expected it to.

Is that an example of the "Law of Attraction?" The for-real land of "if you build it, they will come"? I am beginning to believe it is. If you THINK you'll fail, you will. If you KNOW you'll succeed, you will. All my life, that was how I lived, without putting a label on it.

Hmmmm. Could my newfound fears, my doubts...be causing this issue with my thinking skills? I THINK I won't remember, so in fact I don't?

Food for thought.