Around Here...

Another July is coming to a close and I can't believe how time goes by more and more quickly as I get older.  I was warned it would happen, but didn't really grasp it until I started to live it.  Kyle and I have been married through six summers and have known each other for seven.  In some ways I can't believe we've been together as long as that, yet in others I can't remember life without him. 

Enjoying family time at our niece and nephew's going away party. 

I haven't blogged as much as I would like lately, nor have I journaled or worked on Project Life much.  Creativity certainly has its ebbs and flows.  When I notice the ebbs in my endeavors to record life's bits and pieces, I panic at the thought of those moments that might never get documented or will slip by without further reflection.  I try to let it go and remember that it's better to get some of it than none at all.  Perfectionism rears its ugly head and I want it all done expertly, but I'm prone to being all too human and thus imperfect.   Life has a way of requiring my full attention sometimes and in those times I'm too busy participating to remember to take a few minutes to record and document.  I have to remind myself that it's all okay!

I'm just going to wrap up some lose ends and update both my blog and Project Life with a bulletted list of where the summer has taken us and what's coming up in the Fall.

•  Today marks the 4th week that I have been off of all my psychiatric medications.  Withdrawal symptoms are slowly tapering, but I anticipate at least 2 to 4 more weeks of some symptoms.  I see my psychiatrist Thursday.  I will seek some medication to help me sleep, but wish to remain mood disorder medication free as long as it is wise. I would particularly like to see what I feel like off of meds and withdrawal symptom free for a few days to weeks to determine a baseline.  I know Dr. K. will push for me to try Abilify again, and I am taking Kyle with me to the doc to give me the strength to say no for now.  I have no idea when/if I will return to psychiatric medications, but for now, I'm really excited to have made it so far in what turned out to be an extremely hard process.  It will remain difficult, but it's also brought me some gifts that I couldn't have expected.
• August marks the 2nd year anniversary of the depression and bipolar support group that I organize and run here in Cheyenne.  I continue to be fulfilled by the stories of courage and strength that I hear from other people with depression and bipolar disorder.  I have obtained non-profit status and recently mailed in our first grant application which would give us some office space.  I also got our website up and running.  Check us out at www.dbsacheyenne.org.  I'm totally new to the website design process, so it's nothing special, but at least it gives us a home on the web and a place for all our information.  I have big plans for DBSA in the future, and can't wait to get started on them just as soon as I get my own health a little better managed
• Kyle's summer has been very busy with work related projects at WYDOT.  We try to remember that this is a good thing - job security and all!  Many new highway projects are planned for Wyoming, and that means lots of title work, negotiations and travel for Kyle.  He has spent a couple of weeks up in Afton and Thayne, Wyoming.  Such beautiful country!  I love the pictures he sends me when he's on the road.  He'll be going to Denver for a class at the end of August.  He's nearly completed all the coursework to get his International Right of Way Association certification - a big accomplishment.  We're hoping the fall will give him a bit of a slower pace at work and time to get some projects done around the house - not the projects I have for him, but one's that he's actually looking forward to accomplishing.  I'll save mine for Spring!  He also has a big birthday coming up in November.  I'll have to see what I can plan for such a special guy...
• With Kyle's working and my being under the weather most of June and July we didn't get out and about as much as we wanted this summer.  My biggest hope was to get to the Renaissance Festival in Colorado, but it just didn't happen.  We'll go in June next year, for sure!  We still plan to get to a Rockies game, most likely in September.  Last year we went for my birthday in September, and it was perfect!  I love the weather in September, and I love going down to Denver on a weekday when Kyle can get away so we avoid the crowds.  We did make it to Elitch Gardens for my Sis-in-Law's birthday.  We surprised her and it was the perfect day. I even faced my fears and went on the Tower of Doom with my nephew.  We also plan to go to the Trans-Siberian Orchestra in Denver at Christmastime.  Their tour schedule comes out August 1st, so I can't wait to see when we'll be catching their amazing show.  
• Mostly I'm looking forward to peace and quiet this Fall.  I am looking forward to putting out my fall decor around the house and making some new crafty items.  Last Fall our entire upstairs was demolished as we awaited new flooring and from September 9th until the week before Thanksgiving we had the entire upstairs packed up, pushed aside and otherwise destroyed.  It will be fun to celebrate the change in seasons this year since I didn't have the chance last year.  It's also a good time to reflect on how much I love our floors now that they are finished.

So that's about all the news from around here.  I know that summer's hardly over, but somehow it always seems that once August hits, school is just around the corner, and then it's Fall to me the moment September arrives.  Must be the leftover teacher in me.  It's always a bit bittersweet when a school year arrives and I'm neither teacher nor student.  I so loved starting a new school year as a student, both in grade school and in college.  I miss college so much in August.  And though I don't necessarily miss working in schools as much as attending them, there is also something special about the start of a fresh new year of school from that perspective as well.  

Enjoy the rest of your summer, and savor the bits and pieces!

That's me on the left, waving goodbye to Kyle in case I fall to my doom...

Reasons vs. Excuses...

Twice in this past week I have heard persons (in my real life) use their depression or bipolar disorder as an excuse for poor behavior.  It fills me with rage to hear it said. 

It made me think about  my understanding of the terms "reason" and "excuse".  In my book, a reason is a valid explanation, it can be factual, and it can make the injured party feel a bit better.  A reason usually involves being accountable.  Example:  I'm sorry I was late for your wedding.  I overslept and missed my flight."  

An excuse is usually an attempt to shift blame, get oneself off the hook and really doesn't make anyone feel better except the person who uses it. "I'm sorry I was late for your wedding.  The cab driver wouldn't drive any faster to get me to the airport, even though I overslept, and then the stupid airport was really confusing and it caused me to get lost and miss my flight."  Or, in other words, "I overslept in the first place but expected the cab driver to break the law and get me to the airport on time and since I didn't allow for extra time to find my way around the airport, it's all on the airport for being so confusing.  So it's not my fault."

It also made me think about accountability.  I don't see much accountability in our society, and I've witnessed this in my personal life as well as observing it in other areas - with politicians, business owners, contractors, etc.  It's disheartening when I see it and it's been maddening to me this week because it feeds into stereotypes that people believe about those of us with mood disorders including bipolar and depression.  

I work really hard to live my life in a way that doesn't use bipolar disorder as an excuse.  At times my illness has been a reason for my behavior; i.e., missed work, missed classes, excessive sleeping, and other challenges it presents.  But I have to carefully evaluate at those times whether my behaviors are a choice that I'm making and just using bipolar disorder, and mostly depression, as an excuse for them, or whether the situation is a legitimate reason for me needing time off work, extra sleep or other considerations.  


This is no different than any other illness.  Kyle has diabetes, and sometimes he needs more rest, or an extra meal, or time off work to go to a doctor appointment.  Not a big deal, unless he were to take advantage of his illness and use it as an excuse when he really just wanted to get an afternoon off, take a nap or get out of a meeting.  We all have decisions to make when it comes to our behavior and choices, and living with chronic illness only adds a new dimension for that decision making.  

When someone does something horrible and says, "I can't help it, it's just part of my illness", it's a setback for everyone else living with that same illness who tries to do the right thing each day.  And it's just not true.  No doubt, mental illnesses affect the way each of us thinks and feels and what we say, and ultimately what we do.  We're still accountable for what we do, though, and the fact that we have an illness does not then release us from any responsibility we have for the way we have impacted others. 

Like anyone, I am shocked and heartbroken over the shootings in Colorado Friday  morning.  On a personal level, there's another component to what happened that makes it difficult for me.  I'm just waiting for the revelation that the accused gunman was "bipolar" or "depressed".  Such a label will bring a new wave of judgment and misunderstanding.  For some, that will be the only explanation needed.  The shooter is written off as crazy and mentally ill and that's all they need to know.  It will feed the stereotype that any one of us who is bipolar or depressed might take that same course of action at any given moment.  It will feed the belief that he was just not medicated enough, or should have been locked up just in case something like this might have happened.  

Sticking a diagnosis on him does nothing to bring me any sense of understanding or peace of mind.  It would not answer "why" he did it, and answering why he did it does not help me either.  For some situations, there are no reasons, only excuses, and those excuses do nothing to justify the horror of a situation. 


I can't go into details about the personal situation that angered me, other than to say that this person did something illegal and that it was written off by both authorities and the person who did it as something that s/he just "couldn't help" because of his/her illness.  I find it a disservice to everyone - those with the same illness and those without it - for such behavior to be written off.  It let's the person with the excuses get away with bad behavior and it sets a bad example.  It causes resentment.  It leads to misunderstanding.

Part of me that likes to see justice served is very disappointed and wishes this person could learn a lesson, but another part of me realizes that it can be a learning curve for me even if it won't be for him/her.  It's a good time to look at my own life and take inventory of when I use excuses and how I could better serve myself and others by being accountable.  

As much as we all want to see change in others and accountability in others, it's far easier to start within and hope that leading by example will have a better influence than to try to start by hoping others change.  Change is hard enough when I want it and I'm willing to work hard for it.  It's probably not likely to happen if I sit around waiting for it to happen in others.  

A Full Plate...Of Meds, That Is...

*Disclaimer:  I am in no way advocating withdrawing from any medication without support and help from a medically trained person.  I am not saying psychiatric medications are bad, ineffective, or useless. 

For a long while, psychiatric medications were helpful for me.  And then I realized that they weren't.  Many of them were causing side effects that required further medications.  I also realized that the mood stabilizers and antidepressants were definitely keeping me from the depths of despair, they also prevented me from the highs of joy and happiness.  For awhile that was okay, but gradually flatness became intolerable, too.  

So I started researching medication reduction, withdrawal, and the options.  Psychiatric medications require planning before stopping them, partly because of physical side effects and also emotional ones, lumped under a heading on the medication handout termed "discontinuation syndrome".  I began tapering off on my own based on my research and also consulted my doctor about six weeks ago.  

I will look back on these six weeks with pure wonderment that I survived.  I wouldn't recommend my process for anyone else, and it could have been done with less suffering on my part.  But I'm one of those people that would rather have a really bad virus for three days than a mediocre cold for ten.  I figured since I was already feeling crummy, I would push the envelope and try to get through this as fast as I safely could.  

It's hard to know if my ulcer was a direct result of my gastric bypass or the amount of meds I was on.  Most likely, a combination of the two.  Bypass patients can no longer take NSAIDS of any kind (aspirin, Ibuprofen, Alieve, etc.) because they can burn a hole in our tiny stomachs.  On Sundays I would sit down with my shoe sized storage box of meds and dole out a week's worth of meds into my daily am and pm doses.  It would astonish me the amount of medication I was taking and I realized it was insane to think that these medications weren't causing some major harm to my body.  

When I decided to give up meds, here's what I was taking in one day:

And a week's worth combined onto one plate looked like this:

That amount of medication going into a person in one week is crazier than anything they are supposed to be treating!!

Effexor (the bright orange ones) and Zoloft (the tannish ones) are the most difficult meds to withdraw from for some people.  I was not an exception.  I noticed more difficulty related to the Effexor, but it's also hard to distinguish which is causing what issue. 

It's been 12 days since I last took anything other than my ulcer medication or allergy medication.  Here's what I noticed and am noticing:

My lovely shoulder purse strap bruises.

• The most obvious complaints I had were just that I felt like I had the flu 24/7.  I ached like I never have - especially in the chest, knees and the bottom of my feet. This is entirely gone in my chest but still a challenge in my knees and feet.  It's a deep pain - in your bones kind of pain.
• I was nauseous all the time. I've never had morning sickness, but I assume it was similar, only it lasted all day.  I would be hungry, eat two bites of something and the smell of it would overwhelm me and I would have to push it away.  Though I have no appetite, I am able to eat more than say a week ago.
• The dizziness is indescribable but was constant.  I couldn't move my head too fast or the room would spin and distort.  This has diminished a great deal and I notice it most in the afternoons.
• Changes in motor skills.  I began dropping things all the time. Incoordination.  Bumping into walls.  You know, fun stuff like that, but without booze!
• Severe allergy symptoms.  Because several of these medication also block H1 receptors which are also histamine receptors, another "side effect" they have is to help allergies.  Once I weaned off meds, my allergies came back full on.  
• I had chills and sweats at the same time.  These are mostly gone, and what I still have I attribute to lack of sleep.
• My face was puffy in the mornings if I managed to sleep. 
• Sleep was nonexistant.  I have been and am getting roughly 3-6 hours every 72 hours. 
• The sun makes my eyes want to pop out of my head.  I'm very sensitive to light at present.
• Capillary fragility means that anything and everything causes my capillaries to burst and I was covered in bruises constantly.  For instance, just having my purse on my shoulder bruises my shoulder.  
• Extreme anxiety.  Seeing a spider sent me over the edge.  Events or situations that were mildly uncomfortable became monumentally huge.
• Extreme anger.  The smallest thing (dropping a can of pop) was enough to make me feel like throwing it through a closed window.
• ITCHING.  All of the above were tolerable and I could manage them but the itching - oh, it's unimaginable.  This is one of the symptoms that compares to heroin withdrawal.  We've all heard of people coming off illegal drugs and having the sensation of things crawling over them.  Sometimes I had the light sensation as if something ran across my leg, or other times it's as if tiny needles are poked into my skin again and again.  At first I tried lotions, switching to gentler fabric softeners and detergents, but when nothing helped I realized it was the withdrawal.  I ended up with massive bruises on my legs because I would itch my legs which then busted the capillaries.  It wasn't (and isn't) pretty.  The itching has not subsided, and is still as bad as it has been.  I don't know when it will subside.  Since psychiatric medications work on the nervous system, it's not a big shock to have this side effect, but I certainly understand why people have wanted to throw themselves in front of the subway to stop it. 

Last week I was in a very dark place from all of this.  I was emotionally overloaded and physically at my breaking point from all these symptoms that felt like nonstop illness.  Monday, though, I awoke with more clarity than I've had in some time and some of the reading I had done about Dialectical Behavior Therapy had just clicked inside me and made me feel like I had regained some control over some important aspects of my life that just days before I didn't know if I would ever care to have again. I'll blog more about these moments of clarity this week sometime.  

Had I not gone through all this, I would have had no concept what this withdrawal was all about.  I'm sure some family and friends wonder why it's dragging on so long.  It's so complicated and hard to explain, but I'm so glad I'm doing it.  As much as it really stunk to be flooded with so many overwhelming emotions last week, it was actually what I had strived for when I went off meds - I wanted to feel again.  So ideally, not all at once, but at least the emotions are back.  That's what I wanted!  

I can't say I'll never go on meds again, and I don't say they are as horrible as they might sound.  I do know that before beginning any I will do much more research about the long and short term effects.   Though there's part of me that feels annoyed that no one told me it would be like this coming off them, the truth is I was in a place where I so badly needed them that the withdrawal ending them was so far out of the picture it wouldn't have mattered.  Sort of like chemo.  In the moment when you decide to opt for chemo, you don't want to die, so you do it.  You know it's going to hurt, and it's going to cost you some, but you also know it could save your life.  This is how psychiatric medications have been for me. 

 I've also learned that with even the best doctors, it's entirely up to us to advocate for ourselves and educate ourselves.  Docs don't take the time they should to run through it all.  They tell me what "most" people experience.  What I "might" expect.  Then it's really up to me to dig in and read what I can and ask other professionals to get the clearest picture.  I can only blame others for my own ignorance so much.  And as we've all seen, a fifteen minute consultation in a doc's office generates little beyond a bill.
 

Reading is Fundamental...

When I finally learned to read, I never slowed down. I consumed books voraciously and continuously.  We didn't often have the money to buy many books, so Mom took my brother and I to the library very regularly, especially in the summers when we didn't have the school library at our disposal.  And because I would read through them so rapidly, it would have taken much wealth to keep me supplied anyways!  


The books I did have I treasured, though and I took good care of them.  When I got to college and learned that writing and highlighting in books was commonplace, I was aghast, and it was well into my second semester before I took pen to page.  Now I mark them up in any number of ways, but as a kid I took special care to keep them pristine. 

Most anyone remembers Scholastic and book orders.  I would pour over my book order pages, reading the description of every book on the pages, circling the ones I wanted, and then negotiate with my parents about which ones we could afford.  My parents were great about finding money for book orders even when it probably meant we went without something else.  

I salivate when I think of the delirious joy I felt when that cardboard box was sitting on my teacher's desk just waiting for her to hand them out to us.  But Scholastic and book orders also meant you had to have the money to buy them in the first place, and it would be disappointing to see the other kids go home with their new books when it was one of those times I hadn't asked for or my parents hadn't been able to give me money for them. 

When you were a child, did your school receive the benefit of the Reading is Fundamental (RIF) program?  Kyle had never heard of it when we were talking the other day, and I went to my happy place remembering my experience with it.  

RIFs mission is this:  To motivate young children to read by working with them, their parents, and community members to make reading a fun and beneficial part of everyday life.   

Twice that I remember, but possibly more often, RIF came to my schools to bring absolutely free books to the students which they could then take home.  They would lay them out across the tables in the library or the lunchroom.  The books covered all ranges of topics, reading levels and authors.  Each child could browse the pages, feel the glossy covers and gaze at the colorful illustrations.  Once the treasure was selected, the book he or she would make his own was stamped and the child's name written in it.  What a difficult decision, trying to pick just one delicious book! 


Imagine the absolute treat it is to be given a brand new book, of your choice, for your very own, especially if new books are rare occurances!  Everyone leaves with the same amount of books - just one - and I didn't have to feel any guilt for asking for money from my parents to pay for it.  It was heaven.

My first encounter with RIF was in my very first year of school and Wind River Elementary School.  I ended up choosing The Gingerbread Man.  

And 25 years later, I still have it. 

And see - there's the little stamp and my name written with my Kindergarten teacher's handwriting (and, ahem, mispelled).

In fifth grade I was having an extra hard time deciding which book to pick, so Mrs. Russell (probably for the sake of her sanity and with regard to the amount of time it was taking me) helped me select The Witch of Blackbird Pond.  


And 19 years later, I still have it. 

My name is spelled correctly, but in my own handwriting this time.

 
I wonder how many other adults still have treasured books from their childhood.  Though I moved many many times growing up, these books moved with me always.  They sit on a special bookshelf in my craft room that stores my favorites from childhood, also including:

• All the Beverly Cleary Beezus and Ramona books. (My second set because I completely wore out the first one).
• The Little House series. (My third set because I completely wore out the first two).
• The Anne of Green Gables series.
• It Can't Hurt Forever about a little girl who undergoes heart surgery that I first read around the time my Dad had his first heart attack.
• Striped Ice Cream about a poor family that has chicken spaghetti and striped ice cream to celebrate birthdays. 

Part of the reason I kept these books was because I knew that someday I would want to share them with my own daughter.  One of the hardest parts of deciding not to have our own children was knowing I wouldn't be sharing them with my own little girl.  But I get to share them with others - including you who read this blog. 


I also kept them because they were two of the greatest gifts I ever received. They were not large, did not come in a shiny box and require no accessories.  They were not expensive or extravagant gifts - in fact, the sum total of their sticker prices is $6.00.  (Ahhh, to buy a book for $3.50 again!)  But they were priceless. 

They are a lifetime reminder that reading IS fundamental, for anyone, no matter who you are or what challenges you face in trying to be a reader.  And being a reader is an essential piece of who I am as an individual.  Throwing away these books would have been discarding a piece of myself, and it would have hurt tremendously.  I'm so grateful I held onto them.  


RIF certainly achieved their mission in reaching me with their generosity and thinking back on them and the impact two tiny books had on my life has led me to research what I can do to support RIF and the great work they do.  I'm filled with gratitude for what they did for me.  

Privacy, discretion and respect...

I blog about topics of personal interest to me, mostly because they are happening to me and changing the way I see and act on the world.  I rarely (but have on occasion) use my blog or Facebook as my place to defend or express views on political issues because I find it generally unhelpful - to myself or anyone else.  Lots of blogs and Facebook pages solely exist to defend parties, positions and the issues, and I figure if anyone wants an educated understanding of the "issues" they'll go to more reliable sources for their facts.  I also believe that if you know me well enough, you already know where I stand on most of the issues.  If I live my life in accordance with my beliefs, my beliefs become visible without me having to tell everyone what they are. 

If someone saw my Facebook rant or my "relike if you support Jesus/soldiers/veganism/AA/Chihuahuas for a Better America/etc etc etc" and had a life changing experience I'd be highly surprised.  And if anyone went to the polls and let a "Like if you love M&Ms for World Peace" sway their voting choices - well, maybe they shouldn't be voting. 


I figure, if I want to change the world and open people's eyes to a wider understanding of it, I have a lot more work cut out for me than simply a blog post or Facebook update.  With youth often comes the passion of beliefs, and when I was younger I would zealously defend mine to anyone who cared to listen.  I remember have great debates with my father on issues that were important to both of us, and wondering how he could be so close minded on some and so accepting about others.  But I loved that he cared what I thought enough to argue it with me.  The interaction is what mattered - not that we agreed. 

Then wisdom and age crept in and I realized my dad was "everyman".  We all have our biases and areas where we're open to new thoughts and reflection on our own, and others where we draw the line and righteously defend our right to remain exactly where we're at on the issue.  I am not any different than my father in this respect - we just draw the line at different places.  Maybe that will change at some point, and maybe it won't, but in my experience, those issues that are hot button ones for us are the very ones that are likely to shut us down to new information and ideas and allow us to be more open minded on an issue.  This is an observation - not a judgement.  

As the world has more and more outlets for individualized expression through the media - YouTube, Facebook, Twitter, memoirs, talk shows - there is less and less privacy and discretion.  I see more confrontation and disrespect for others, their right to believe what they believe and their right to be as public or private about the information.  

In this past couple of weeks a couple of incidences have caught my attention on the matter of privacy and respect.  First, it was the storyline that Tom Cruise is getting a divorce.  I am not a Tom Cruise fan.  I am not of the mindset that Scientology, his church of choice, makes for a healthy and positive lifestyle.  I dislike his tirade against psychology, and feel that his opinions would go down a little easier if he was less abrasive.  But none of those things makes him a bad person.  

None of those things make me wish him ill or celebrate the dissolution of his marriage.  I completely disagree with the majority of the philosophies he vocally endorses, but I completely respect his right to believe them.  They don't match mine, but I'd hate to be forced to match his.  I also strongly believe that no marriage is ever perfect, and that we never know what happens in a marriage that is not our own.  Marriage is a private relationship and complex and there are always three sides - his, hers and the truth.  


Was I surprised that the marriage failed?  Not much.  Do I think it's all his fault simply because I don't agree with most of what he says?  Not at all.  Do I have any idea who is the better parent, who did what to whom or who is the "victim"?  Nope.  And does any of this affect my life in any small degree?  Not at all.  This is a public couple, and an especially vocal man when it comes to his beliefs, but that doesn't mean that every detail of their life should be public, and it doesn't mean that I can't respect his right to believe what he likes and that he isn't entitled to some privacy and discretion.  


The second event occurred this morning as I read my usual morning blogs and columns.  I came across one written by comedian Kathy Griffin.  I admire her.  Being a comedian is not an easy undertaking for a female.  She picks on celebrities and made a funny series about her "Life on the D List".  She has the guts to say what's on her mind, a trait which I've wished I had more of at times.  She is good friends with the adorable (in more ways than one), Anderson Cooper.  Mr. Cooper came "out" yesterday about his homosexuality - which was really no surprise to anyone who knows anything about him. 


In Ms. Griffin's article, she tells of a conversation she had with Anderson that went like this:  "Anderson, I’ve been getting asked as much about your sexuality as I have about my own show!”  He said: “Kathy, I don’t get asked as much about my sexuality as you get asked about my sexuality. But here’s my standard party line: ‘I want to report the news. I don’t want to be the news.’”

Anderson is a respected journalist.  He's been, literally, in the line of fire in war zones and more importantly, a compassionate and passionate human being.  Yet, his sexual orientation is of more importance than his list of accomplishments.  This bugs me, to put it mildly. 

Anderson stated:   “I’ve begun to consider whether the unintended outcomes of maintaining my privacy outweigh personal and professional principle. It’s become clear to me that by remaining silent on certain aspects of my personal life for so long, I have given some the mistaken impression that I am trying to hide something—something that makes me uncomfortable, ashamed, or even afraid. This is distressing because it is simply not true.”

This statement broke my heart.  It doesn't matter where I stand on the issue of gay rights and related matters - and as stated earlier, you already know the answers to this if you know anything about me.  But for a professional, accomplished man who has led a respectful and admirable life to have to reveal such personal information for the sake of keeping it from overshadowing everything he has done in his life is - to me - heartbreaking.  

When Bill Clinton came clean about his deceptiveness and lies, I was a young woman who still viewed the highest office in the country as one of dignity.  The President was to be respected because he was the President.  I believed more fervently that I could change the world, and that the President could, too.  Then Bill Clinton addressed the nation, the voting scandal of Bush Vs. Gore happened, and I became all too quickly disillusioned.   I've since reflected on other Presidents who have had less than clean personal circumstances but accomplished marvelous change in their professional roles.  I'm still fuzzy on the line between personal and public when it comes to our most important public figures, but ultimately I am learning to be a little less black and white about the whole situation. 


In my perfect world, the leader of the country would act with complete decorum, dignity, and discretion and thus be revered and respected by all, even if he is not agreed with on the "issues".  Role models of any kind - sports, political, television, etc - would lead their lives in a manner as such that I would be proud to tell my own children about them.  The reality is, human nature is flawed and more in some than others.  

I am by no means remotely perfect, and I would hate to think that my every imperfection would be magnified for the world to see via today's outlets.  At the same time, I believe that public figures must lead somewhat public lives.  I remind myself to be forgiving, because I want forgiveness, too.  But I also remind myself that there is a point where forgiving - and mostly forgetting - too many times can result in being trampled all over.  


At the end of the day, it makes no difference on my life what Tom Cruise or Anderson Cooper does in his life.  Can Tom Cruise be - in my opinion - unlikable and distasteful but still a good actor?  Yes.  Can Anderson Cooper be gay and still a good journalist and humanitarian?  Of course.  

At a time in my own life when I am working so hard to get past the judgements that I think other people are making about me, and change how I feel about my self, how can I sit in judgement of others who are doing the same?  It's none of my business how the custody battle over Tom Cruise's child goes, and it's none of my business who Anderson Cooper goes home with at night.  Neither of those has any bearing on the way I will live my life tomorrow.  
At the end of the day, I get to choose how I live my life and whether I can live with myself for how I live my life. The outrage in the media lately over lifestyle choices - may they be religious, sexual, or even about whether and when to breast feed a child - only serve to make me consider whether I am living in accordance with my own beliefs and values. 

I believe there is a lot to be said for "live and let live".  If I am appalled by breast feeding in public, I can avert my eyes. If I am appalled by PETA, I can go home and eat a steak.  Moms can still breast feed when and where they need to.  PETA can protest and campaign.  And I can continue to live my life in accordance with the people and values I believe in.  


I am disheartened by the lack of respect I see in general in the world.  Cameras and voice recordings have made it so easy to "out" people in all sorts of beliefs and actions.  I am not defending poor behavior, only saying that I have not always acted completely in line with my own beliefs.  We all make mistakes and we all need room to grow.  I would like to see a world where privacy becomes respected and appreciated again, where discretion is utilized in saying or doing things that are going to affect others, and that we all learn to have a little more tolerance for the rights of others to truly express their individuality in whatever way they choose.