Insomnia thinks we are friends. #alternatefact

Sleep. It’s a beautiful thing. If only it didn’t elude me. 

I am not its friend. In fact, I loathe Insomnia. One might even use curse words when describing the inability to sleep. 

Seriously. It’s the worst. 

I think I am actually suffering from what I call painsomnia tonight. It was a stressful weekend at work which is making my life long companion, RSD, throw a temper tantrum. 

It’s hard to sleep when your foot feels like it’s on fire! 

I try counting sheep but they simply entertain me. I mean, one of the was break dancing! How is that supposed to help anyone sleep!!? They are rather useless. 

I tried warm milk. No help. (I think it needed to be laced with something to help)

I guess it’s time to figuratively go make some more lemonade with this new batch of lemons. I’ll make it extra sweet… 

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Triggering Memories

I am a daddy’s girl.. plain and simple.

I adore my daddy. He’s been gone from this life since I was 20 (I will be 40 in October) but I still adore him and miss him daily. He was a good daddy to me.

When Daddy died, my world crashed around me. I didn’t think I could go on without him. That’s the first time I can remember being truly depressed. Since his death, I remember all the good times.. not the weeks leading up to his death. While those memories are precious, I try to remember him full of life and doing cart wheels. (yes, he did them anywhere and everywhere.. He also yodeled. A lot).

Last Saturday, a family friend passed away from complication due to AIDS.  While I love this person and am sad he is gone from this earth, my reaction to his death is not what I would expect based on my relationship.

Knowing he died the same way my daddy did though, brought back all the bad memories of Daddy’s death. I also became outraged that almost 20 years later someone I care about died the same way. There should be a cure by now! I hope I am alive when that happens.. It needs to happen in my lifetime.

Memories are amazing. A smell can take me back to moment so vividly I feel like I am reliving a moment. It’s both a strange and amazing experience when it happens.

I think memories, both good and mad, help make us better people. The events we live through in life make us who we are as people.

The way you choose to react to events of your life also matter when it comes to how the events shape you as a person. As a twin, I have seen first hand how perspective matters. From birth, she and I have lived through the exact same things yet our memories are so different. It’s all how we perceived what was happening and it’s fascinating.

I would love to write a book about our lives (it could be a soap opera!) together.

For example, a chapter titled: “Daddy’s Goodbye”… Part one would be how I remember the events….How I perceived what was happening and what I chose to remember about those final weeks. Part two would be the same thing in my sister’s words. I would like to find a mental health professional to weigh in for a part three of each chapter.

Personally, I think it would be beyond intriguing.  Now, to get the womb mate on board and DO IT!

Tonight, I will head home to Chattanooga to attend the funeral of our family friend tomorrow. I am looking forward to seeing people I haven’t seen since I’ve reached adult hood and most of all, of seeing my momma, sisters, nieces and nephews…

 

“The Media”

I just read an article from Huffington Post that is so spot on I need to share it:

Let me tell you how “The Media” really works…

As a journalist, what is happening right now towards my profession (which is also a passion… because contrary to what people believe, you only put yourself through the journalism life style if it is your passion!.. it is not as glamorous as many people believe!) is difficult to deal with.

In fact, I told a co-worker a few days ago, I might need a counselor to make it through the next four years! Not because I hate the president but because of the attack on my career he has launched.. which is bigly unfair, peroid! (ha)

Because of what I do for a living, I get emails from all presidential campaigns. The Trump campaign  recently sent out an email that’s infuriating to me. This is the email:

Jamie,

President Trump needs your help right now.

The media, Hollywood elites, and Democrats have been distorting the president’s policies and deceiving the American people.

And at this very moment, we have less than 11 hours until our FIRST end-of-month FEC deadline.

If we don’t end the month strong, the media will use it against us as proof that the American people are not behind Trump’s presidency.

We’re counting on grassroots leaders like you to show the media that the American people are the heart and soul of this presidency.

Please contribute $100, $65, $50, $35, $20, or $10 to help us fight back against the media and show them that the American people are UNITED behind our president.

Jamie, it’s only been 11 days since President Trump took office, and the media has waged a nasty fight against him every single day.

And right now, the media can’t wait to get their hands on our first fundraising report. They’re hoping to see that the Democrat establishment and other far left organizations have raised more money than us.

But with your help, the media will see that the American people are fully behind our movement.

Please contribute $100, $65, $50, $35, $20, or $10 before our FIRST FEC end-of-month deadline to help us fight back against the media’s distortions.

Thanks,

Trump Headquarters

 

Now, how can I expect his supporters, like my MOMMA, to not blame my profession when emails like this are showing up in their in boxes and when the president calls us “the Opposition Party” in a nationally televised interview?

I take emails like that as a personal attack.

My first day of college in my “Introduction to Mass Media” class, my professor said, “Everyone has a story! You never know what a person has been through or what they have to say until you listen. That’s your job as a journalist. To really LISTEN, without judgement… to TELL THEIR STORIES!”

It’s a lesson I will carry with me until the day I die. It’s how I approach my career… and my life.

The summer between my junior and senior years of college, I did a two month internship with Project Vote Smart (it’s a great political resource, btw) and I took a Grey Hound from Manchester, Tennessee to Billings, Montana. It was a three-day journey and I met and talked to SO many interesting people. I didn’t talk much but listened. I kept a journal and the stories I heard and sometimes go back and read it to remember the passion I felt simply listening to people share their souls. Think about it, sometimes doesn’t it feel great to feel like you are being heard? That someone cares enough to listen?

That’s what I do for a living. I listen. I tell the stories that need to be told. Sometimes those stories uplift, sometimes they inspire, sometimes they enrage, sometimes they hold people accountable.. but no matter what, I am not putting a spin on anything.

 

 

Rage Deep in my Belly

I am the kind of person who likes to look at the bright side in life. You know… one of those glass half full sorts. I believe if you put good vibes into the universe, those good vibes will find their way back to you. I don’t get angry often and when I do, it doesn’t last long.

The current attack on my profession by the new White House administration is causing some slight rage deep within my belly though.

When I see stories like this : Trump Strategist Stephen Bannon Says Media Should ‘Keep Its Mouth Shut’

I want to scream. I want to kick and scream and tell Stephen Bannon what I think about him and the idea we should keep our mouths shut. No. That is not how America works.

Freedom of the press in the United States is protected by the First Amendment to the United States Constitution. This clause is generally understood as a means to prevent the government from interfering with the distribution of information and opinions. (source: Freedom of Press Foundation)

Yes, there are some news agencies that lean to the right and some that lean to the left. There are some out there now pretending to be legitimate news organizations that are nothing but propaganda. (These sites are the ones I seen shared most often too! ~Frightening)

Needless to say, in the age of the internet you can find articles and websites that will agree with your opinion, regardless of facts. There are a lot of places offering alternate facts these days (which by the way is another way of laying lies).

In case you’re wondering, NPR and the BBC are probably the most reliable outlets for information without bias.  NPR offers some other ways to know real vs. fake news in this article Fake Or Real? How To Self-Check The News And Get The Facts.

I suggest you read it. I suggest you share it.

Please know, no matter what happens in Washington D.C., this journalist will not be quiet. I will continue to do my job with integrity. Sharing facts without bias.

If you ever have a question about what is real and what isn’t, feel free to shoot me an email. I will happily clear things up for you.

Now, about that rage deep in my belly over the attack on my profession… I am looking for a bright side. I am looking for a way to deal with it but for now, I will put that rage into action and stand up for what I believe.

Politics Divides Families

It’s been said (and it very true) that politics and religion can tear families apart and  ruin friendships. This is why I attempt to avoid conversations about both of those things as often as possible.

That’s proving difficult in the DJT era.

You see, when I get upset my pain increases. It’s just the way it is and there is nothing I can do about it, except prevent myself from getting upset. Right now, that means I have unfollowed and unfriended dozens of people on Facebook, including my own mother.

I am an advocate and supporter of the First Amendment. It’s important to me not only personally but professionally. However, when people share what they think is real news repeatedly on social media (even when I point out to them which sites they can trust to be factual (not #alternatefacts) they still believe the LIES) I have no choice but to say goodbye.

Honesty is important to me. It’s what my job is all about and with my family, being truthful, is important (not everyone I am related to is.. ummm.. exactly honest. In fact, there are some I don’t believe a word they say until I can independently verify the information being provided). That’s why I am a fact based person. That’s also why I have moments right now where my head wants to explode when it comes to the new administration in control of our government.

I promised my mother I will give DJT a chance and I did, but in less than a week, he’s already proven to me what I already knew. He hates “the media” (that terminology deserves its own blog entry at a later date because there is no such thing as “the media” as it is being portrayed). He wants to silence journalist unless they are willing to make him look good. He wants to take our voices away.

I hope DJT turns out to be the president my family things he will be. I hope in four years all our lives are better than they are now. That’s my genuine hope. Hoping for anything else only makes one appear crazy in my opinion. When a president succeeds, we all succeed. When a president fails, we all fail.

 

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Let me introduce myself..

Hello and welcome to my blog.

My name is Jamie. I am a 38-year-old woman who works in TV news. I  love life, even when things get difficult. I am going to write about my life with a chronic disease in hopes of helping people understand what it is like to live in constant pain.

Let me start by saying, I don’t want anyone reading this to feel sorry for me. I think it is therapeutic to talk things through and this is a great way to do this.

Now, what is CRPS (previously names RSD)?  That’s a tough question to answer.

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My CRPS started after a car crash in December of 1998. I was in remission for more than five years from 2006 to 2013. By remission I mean I lived with only moderate pain. Mostly a four or less on the pain scale. A doctor put me on a blood pressure pill without thinking about possible complications due to CRPS and the pill knocked me out of remission. Now, I average a pain level of seven to nine on a daily basis.

There are treatments to help but my insurance won’t pay for most of them. In fact, I recently moved from Oklahoma to Tennessee and have yet to be able to even get an appointment with a doctor. That’s how difficult it is to find treatment!

I am working on it though! 🙂