• Dizzy Lizzie

    WARNING: The next series of blogs posts are excerpts from my journey this past month from excruciating, mind blowing head pain to finding my way back to a less inflamed state of mind.  I know I usually blog about business, marketing, social media and the sort, but this month little ole' Larock Star Creative blog is taking a different trajectory.  And I thank you for being here with me through growing pains and migraines.  Sante!

    February 15, 2012

    I guess decluttering starts with cleaning out my mind.  A thorough spring inspired purge of dusty thoughts, musty memories & bacteria infested worries.  It starts with the acknowledgement that absolutely nothing more can be added into my life right now without emptying a few drawers of my prefrontal cortex.  The monkey mind thoughts need a broom & a swiffer to keep themselves occupied while I atttend to the higher priority of some much needed sleep and relaxation.  But the sleep and relaxation won't be able to work their powers without me dumping out the junk drawers in the far reaching recesses of my head.  

    Perhaps that's why my neck hurts so much.  

    A never ending stiffness.  

    A bodily metaphor for the total disconnection between my heart and my mind.  

    A road block so tight that my vertebrae are twisted inside their casing.  

    A permanent kink almost solidified into a cement like stress load.

    And my blood vessels were forced to go on strike.  Expanding to the size of sequoian tree trunks.  Filled with hot pulsating blood that longed to explode right through my forehead.  

    Did I mention I've been suffering from migraines?

    I've really never experienced anything quite so debilitating.  Even my ectopic rupture seemed like a wee temporary tummy ache in comparison (and during that lovely experience I was in the ICU for 4 days).  

    Alas, I triggered in myself the mother lode of all head aches and it really spun me upside down.  Vertigo was an interesting side effect, the room was constantly spinning and the experience gave whole new meaning to the nickname DIZZY LIZZIE.

    So that sums up the end of January and the first half of February.  And, now, here I am in my first day in Florida.  Attemtping to relax into a long overdue vacation, one sun drenched day at a time.  

    The crew left at 8am for Disney World.  When I finally scooted them out and endured one last parting lecture from the hosts, I returned to bed and slept for 3 more hours.  I woke up in a panic.  It was 10:45am.  I yelled to Matt, "we're supposed to be at the beach at 10:30am! We're supposed to be at the beach RIGHT NOW!" He left his eyes closed, barely acknowledging such a ridiculous stressful way to wake up your parnter and said, "no, Lizzie, we're supposed to be right here."  Confused (as usual), I questioned this logic.  I assumed he must have called to change our reservation, to allow us some much needed down time.  When I asked if he had followed the beach club protocol and that's why we're supposed to be "right here right now" , he flatly replied no.  He did not call.  He's been asleep for 3 hours.  Then he gently pursuaded me to chill out with a little thought work inspired dose of reality.  "Lizzie, we are obviously supposed to be right here, right now, because that's where we are."  Boom.  That was it.  He kept his eyes shut and slipped back into slumber. Ignoring my hyper overachieving, must get to the beach on time ridunculousness.  My bon vivant hubby turned zen master  was so right.  

    Who on earth stresses about getting to the beach on time for a day of RELAXATION?  

    Only someone with their synapses tied as tight as mine were.  

    The extra sleep felt a million times better than a harried attempt to adhere to my MIL's planning from afar.  I relaxed into Matt's defiant, yet restful, scrapping of the plan.  I booked a spa appointment instead and then dug my fork poolside into some delicious blackened grouper.  And then, when good and God damned ready, we moseyed on over to the beach club.

    4 hours late, but right on time.  

    Photo: REFLECTIONS Iphoneography by Lizzie Loud Larock: Reflecting pool in the Academic Quadrangle at Cranbrook KIngswood School, Bloomfield Hills, Michigan.  July 2011.