The Accountability Struggle and a Few Ways to Beat It

Do you find yourself struggling with workout accountability? Do you cop out more times than you’d like to admit? Do you tend to start something and then fall off the wagon? I’m certainly not a fitness trainer or professional but if there’s one thing I am and always have been good at over the years, it’s not missing workouts. If I’m in—you can go all in on me showing up. Now, have I missed some? Of course—I’m by no means perfect. If I’m being totally transparent, I actually didn’t go to a workout today I had initially thought I’d attend. So what better person to give you advice than me, right? HA. I don’t usually go today and it wasn’t really planned and it was on a day I rarely workout (more on why this is a formula for failure later). Normally though, I’m there. 

I talk to quite a few people who’ve told me they really struggle with making the workouts, classes or fitness commitments. They feel guilty and get down on themselves and it’s a bummer headspace to be in–I get it. I recently sat down and tried to think of some of the reasons my track record might be good with sticking to my fitness goals. Is it an inherit personality thing? Is it from a lifetime in athletics? Is it because I so desperately look forward to time out of the house to myself? I realized a couple of things (some tiny and some a bit more thought provoking) and wanted to share. These may or may not work for you. Maybe one or two resonate. You may already be doing them. I’m not sure. Just in case you’ve found yourself struggling to get to the gym or your workout class or in keeping that promise to yourself, these may be worth giving a try.

1.) Lay out your clothes the night before. I know. It’s a little wonky and seems insignificant and like a tiny thing to do, but I think it’s big impact. Whether you are working out at the butt crack of dawn, in the afternoon, after work or later in the evening, lay out your workout gear. Whenever you workout and regardless of what it is you’re going to be doing, always get the gym bag packed the night before or lay out the outfit. I would go so far as to say to put the gym bag next to your door so you literally can’t miss it in the morning or throw it in the passenger seat of your car the night before. Here’s the funny thing with this one—the clothes, the bag–they turn into a form of your accountability partner. You wake up and see the clothes sitting there laid out and ready and you see the promise you had made to yourself just a few hours earlier that you were going for that walk. The gym bag by the door is the reminder of the commitment you made last night to hit the treadmill. Somehow, these non-human articles turn into powerful reminders that we made a commitment to ourselves—don’t let those leggings down! 

2.) Speaking of accountability partners—get one. This whole concept could be a single blog post in itself but I’ll try to be brief(fish). It is said that we run on either internal or external motivation. If you are someone like me, you are internally motivated and pretty good at holding yourself accountable. This means if you say you’re going to do it you don’t need anyone enforcing that motivation other than yourself. You’re on it. Then if you add in accountability to someone externaly, the chances of you bailing other than a majorly good reason are slim to none. If you are someone who is externally motivated (which is the highest percentage of people), you’re going to do best with someone holding you accountable. To put it bluntly, you’ll likely let yourself down if you don’t have someone telling you or reminding you or calling you out to get it done.  What the heck does this all mean? It means that literally everyone benefits from an accountability partner—those internally and externally motivated. I want to say a little more on partners instead of making it such a blanket statement.

First, don’t get an accountability partner with the same accountability problem as you. Latch on to someone who will make you better. Reach up in this instance so that you can get to the point that someone else in your life is reaching up to you. If you and a friend are both wanting to do better and you want to support each other, a great option would be to reach up to the instructor in the fitness class or the trainer or someone else in your life who has a better track record. Obviously you still want to support each other but you both might need that extra support from someone in a different head space. The thing I like about holding yourself accountable to the instructor is that now he or she not only depends on you to attend because you said so, but also because you’re helping fill the class. You don’t want to let the instructor or yourself down. I’m internally motivated but I’m friends with my spin instructor—I know she’ll give me crap if I miss and I also know she depends on numbers to fill her classes and I don’t want to let her down and be an empty bike that could’ve been filled by someone else more committed.

Second, accountability can be as simple as speaking your schedule or plans to the people in your life. Tell family and friends or co-workers you’re starting a routine or class. They’ll ask you about it and it may just be enough motivation for you to attend. No one likes answering “oh I am not making it,” Or “I didn’t go,” to people asking how that new routine is going you were jabbering on about. Who wants to deal with veiled sympathy or veiled satisfaction people silently scream at you with their eyes when you fail? No one. No one wants to deal with that. Say what you want, but you know you have those people in your life and they’re who you need to prove wrong. Let them hold you accountable without even realizing it. Sometimes these people are the most powerful partners and motivators.

Finally, find classes with a cancellation policy—money is an accountability partner and a strong one. You’re less likely to skip if they’re charging you for missing class. Who wants to flush money down the toilet? Gym memberships are costly, don’t waste that money per month when you don’t show up. The fitness world is pricy–get your money’s worth.  

3.) Do what you love. If you hate running, don’t decide to be a runner. If you hate weights, don’t do weight training. There are plenty of physical activities out there that give you incredible benefits. Don’t feel like you have to do one just because it’s the new hot thing or everyone is doing it or people say it’s the only way to go. If you love walking then hike and walk your little heart out. If you love sports activities then find somewhere in town offering lessons or leagues. If you love being on a bike then spin and bike trails. If you don’t like strenuous heavy lifting, pick up a yoga class. There’s something for everyone and if I’ve learned anything, it’s to work in your joy. If you don’t, you eventually burn out. If you are working in your power and joy, you will stick with it and actually look forward to what you are doing instead of dreading it. I’m not saying it’s easy or always fun—there will still be hard classes and days you want to skip—but if it’s something you don’t mind doing, you are way more likely to let that moment of weakness pass and stick to your guns.

4.) Routine. I can’t speak generally on this because some people are not into routines, however, if you’ve been struggling with accountability you may have to try this one. It will help. Pick a time you workout and stick to it. Pick a class and stick to it. It doesn’t mean you have to work out the same time every day, it means that each week your routine is the same. Maybe you do a class on Saturdays at 9:00 am and then one on Thursdays at noon—then do it every single week. They are different times but those are the ones you do and don’t deviate. People will get to know your routine. You’ll get on a routine so that it becomes your normal—not a workout but a part of life–a habit. Once you form a habit, you don’t even think about it. So the goal is to get to the point that it’s a habit you’re subconsciously doing. If you are willy-nilly all over the map, oh I’ll workout here and there and maybe today, you aren’t creating a habit. This is exactly what happened to me today. It was so out of routine–out of habit–it almost felt wrong. But if you nail down certain dates and times and put them in your calendar and get the help in to watch the kids and tell friends and family, it will become something you don’t even think about anymore because it’s your way of life.

The other nice thing about routine is you will get to see certain people week in and week out who become silent accountability partners. If someone is missing from a class I attend weekly, I always wonder why or where they are. When I went to the gym and saw the same person next to me on the treadmill, I’d wonder where she was if she wasn’t there running and reading her People magazine. You want that. Why? It means they’ve gotten to know and expect you to be there. Be the person people wonder about when you’re absent.

5.) When all else fails work out with a grateful heart. This is the one that will get me out of bed super early on a Saturday morning after I’ve had too much wine or am so tired I don’t think I can even make it to the chair (where my clothes are laid out). Have a grateful mentality. I look at some of my aging family members who struggle to even walk up and down stairs. I know what they would give to have their healthy, younger bodies back —that could run, spin away on a bike, squat and lunge, chase down a drop shot and go into an all out sprint for kicks—without pain. I think about this often because I think about my own mortality a lot. There’s going to come a time when I can no longer do the things I can do today and I know I’m going to wish I could. I’m going to give anything to be able to get up early, hop out of bed and get ready to go workout at a spin class and absolutely crush it. Work out with a grateful heart. No, I’m not being that annoying friend who is saying “it could be worse,” or “be grateful,” but I guess maybe I am and I’m ok with that. Think of people who are dying and bedridden. Think of people cooped up in a nursing home tied to their wheelchairs. Think of people who’ve lost a limb. I know. I’m being kind of annoying but sometimes it’s annoying because it’s uncomfortable…and the truth. It could all be gone tomorrow and you’d give anything to go for that walk. So on the days it’s especially hard, try thinking with a grateful heart. It will help you overcome that moment of weakness and doubt. 

There are lots of other tips and tricks out there. These are just a few of mine that have worked over the years. They may or may not be for you, but if you’re struggling, they’re worth giving a try. Maybe I missed a few that are your own favorites—be sure to share them in the comments below for everyone reading. If you do give one or all of these a try, let me know how they work for you in the comments as well. Now, get those clothes laid out for tomorrow and be the partner people are reaching up to for accountability. You can do it!  

Unplugged.

I once drove over twenty-five miles on a highway with an extension cord plugged into my car and dragging out behind me about thirty feet. 

As someone who isn’t a fan of winters, it’s always a family joke that I continued to move north. First to Green Bay and then across the border to Canada. In the winter depths of the Frozen Tundra, Kurtis loaded up all my worldly possessions into a trailer and I said goodbye to my darling duplex in DePere—bound for a new chapter in Saskatchewan. We stayed overnight in North Dakota and I remember wondering why there were all kinds of little stations in the parking lot. I thought they were parking meters at first but upon closer inspection they were outlets. I probably asked Kurtis at the time but sometimes I only half listen to his answers, so there’s a chance he explained and I just forgot. It was cold. My mind was likely on a warm shower.

Anyway, we moved up to Canada in the coldest possible winter and I just about didn’t marry him on account of the thirty below temperatures that lasted from the time we moved in January until July (or so it seemed). One of the first things he wanted to do when we got there was put a block heater in my Jeep. Do you know what that is? Wait, let me rephrase that…has anyone reading in the states heard of a block heater? I sure as heck hadn’t. I actually didn’t ask when he mentioned it and let him do whatever car thing he needed to do to my vehicle. I’m not a big car person. I don’t like washing them, gassing them, oil changes any of the things. Wouldn’t it be nice if people still put gas in our cars for us? Ugh, what a luxury that was. Back to the story—I didn’t pay attention to what he was doing to my car.

When he arrived home with my block heated (or whatever he did to it) vehicle, I watched him run an extension cord from our outdoor outlet to the hood of my car and then he plugged the end somewhere under the hood of the car. I was so confused. I freaked out at first because I thought he had just converted my car into one of those electric Urkelmobiles. Exasperated and confused, I asked if he had turned my vehicle into an electric car. That was probably a dumb question. Kindly, he explained (probably for a second time since North Dakota) that up north when it gets really cold, people plug in their vehicles to keep the engine warm so it starts after sitting out overnight. Considering the thirty below temps with wind gusts strong enough to send a bungalow home to Oz, it made sense.

Fast forward a few years. Winters were just as cold and technology hadn’t gotten any better for us, so we still had to plug in our vehicles. I don’t think I actually ever did plug mine in to be honest—that was Kurtis’s job. I cooked dinner, he plugged in the cars.  We lived in a tiny town of 500 people and for me to go do anything like groceries, shopping, fast food, meet friends, or workout, I had to drive thirty miles to either Estevan or Weyburn. Any time I left, I’d call Kurtis and let him know we were heading in to whichever place I’d decided on that day—usually just flipped a coin to be honest. Heads: Weyburn Wholesale. Tails: Estevan Jason’s No Frills (those are grocery stores). He’d always tell me before I left, “Don’t forget to unplug the car.” I would get annoyed sometimes. Who would forget to unplug a car? Me.  

One March afternoon, I bundled up the girls, got myself put together and decided to go see a friend in Weyburn. She had a little girl Tia’s age, so we were going to do a play date and enjoy some coffee time together. I loaded up the girls, locked the house (just kidding we never locked our house up there) and then started the thirty mile trek to Weyburn. The highway to Weyburn is a two lane mess of jacked-up trucks, oilfield equipment, farm equipment, super-b’s, and international travelers. It’s a well-traveled highway connecting the northern United States through Saskatchewan to Alberta. People either went 20 or 120 kilometers per hour on it—rarely with much in between. Remember we are in Canada friends—kilometers per hour. Ask Kurtis sometime about my comment when we crossed the border for the first time and I saw the speed limit was 100. That’s a different story though. My point is that it was a busy, dangerous highway with lots of crazy drivers and you always said a little prayer anytime you went on it.

Well, I pulled out from Midale onto the highway and took off like a bat out of hell heading to Weyburn. Not far out of town a man in a Toyota Topaz–or something like that–pulled up on my left and was waving his hands and pointing. First I pretended not to see him. I hate awkward situations and this felt especially strange. I didn’t know the man and I wasn’t exactly sure what he was upset about—I was going the speed limit and minding my own business. He kept pulling next to me then backing off. Pointing and shaking his head. I was sure he was going to get smoked by a semi. After about the fourth time, I was getting a little scared  and certainly annoyed, so I looked at him and asked, “What’s your problem!?” Do you ever do that? Talk to someone outside of your car when there’s zero chance they can hear you? I do it a lot actually. I threw my hands up with a frown, rolled my eyes, shook my head and turned away. I mean, he was being so rude. I had a car full of precious cargo and I needed to concentrate on getting them in to town safely. After that, he shook his own head and sped past me.

About halfway to town I kept thinking I heard something other than my pounding heart from the random strange man incident. I was feeling a pull on the Yukon. It was still snowy so I figured a chunk of ice or snow had fallen off the back of the car or maybe something was still frozen onto it and dragging.

On I went the thirty miles to Weyburn ranging anywhere from 110-115 kilometers per hour. As I slowed to make my turn into town, I definitely heard another clank. Now I started thinking I had popped a tire or something was really wrong with the vehicle. As I toodled down main street, people walking the street were even looking at my vehicle and laughing. 

I pulled into my friend’s driveway, got out and grabbed Hadley. I then walked around the other side of the vehicle to grab Tia and saw it….the extension cord. The once fresh, bright orange cord (last seen plugged into the side of our home) was now dirty, beaten, knotted and the plug-in end was all kinds of bent from being ripped out from the socket on the side of our home. Oh boy. I had left without unplugging. What I would give to have been a neighbor witnessing me, stuffed into the drivers seat with all my winter layers, backing out of our driveway with the cord still plugged in. Driving off obliviously singing along to “Roar” while my cord drug along behind me. A bright orange pop of color against the bleak winter background.

The man on the highway—the one I thought was an ass—was actually a really good samaritan trying to tell me that I had an extension cord flying out behind me. He had risked his life multiple times to get my attention. Can you imagine what he thought of me!? 1.) That I was an idiot (because I was) and 2.) That I was a jerk store idiot who didn’t even know what was good for her (because I was). The people on main street staring? Not at my loud vehicle but at the person cruising around town with a thirty foot extension cord dancing behind her over all the potholes. Kurtis? He was speechless. This happens sometimes. It’s not always a good speechless. It’s more of a oh my god speechless. Not like oh my god baby baby speechless but oh my god you didn’t but you did speechless. Anyway. Speechless. Thankfully it turned out ok. I won’t get into all the ways that could’ve gone terribly wrong. We’ll just leave it as a lesson learned and a friendly public service announcement to those of you up north–remember to unplug.

Direct Selling 101: Dealing with the Berthas.

Direct sales is hard. Anyone who tells you otherwise is full of shit. And sadly, those people are out there. They promise you riches beyond your wildest dreams. They promise it’s an easy, marketable product. They swear you can work without a lick of effort because customers will just fall from the heavens right into your lap, dripping in glitter and spending oodles of their money on your product and all you have to do is one simple post on Facebook. It’s a lie. I’m on to those pitching you that. I’m watching them in shame—some of them may even be reading this.

Here’s the thing. Direct sales does work. It can be life-changing. It can save someone’s life–literally. You CAN make money. You can do it with class, sass and have a ton of fun on the journey. I say this not from assumption but from personal experience. All of the above are truths I can vehemently vouch for. But it’s hard work and it takes effort to overcome some of the obstacles you get dealt in this gig.

The company I am a part of believes deeply in the golden rule, which is to treat others the way you want to be treated —all you Christians reading this better have gotten that or you best head on back to church this weekend. Anyway, I want to honor that golden rule. I wish I had known some of the things I know now when I started. Before you have to go through and learn the lessons I’ve learned from this business, I’m going to share some advice and most honest transparency with you so that you can find comfort, learn or at least be informed before you take a dive into this industry.

Direct selling is hard because we carry a stigma in society. There are a lot of super crotchety former reps out there and even more people with a deeply ingrained opinion of us all.  I don’t know where it developed. I don’t know who is at fault. All I know is it hurts us. Over the years, it has never gotten easier and I hate admitting that but I promised truth. I move often and each time I’m getting to know a new mom or friend, the question of what I do always arises—typically after she asks what my husband does, isn’t that annoying? Anyway, the moment I say I sell a product with a direct selling company it happens. She glosses over, panics, maybe wets her pants a little–I don’t know but it’s almost always the same. “I could never do sales.” No ones asked if you could. “I had a friend who did that once and she didn’t succeed in it.” Yea, you usually don’t if you quit. “I like my Mac and Clinique.” Name dropper. “Oh, isn’t that a pyramid scheme?” No, and I could write you a ten-page paper citing facts on why it isn’t but like anti-vaccers staring fact versus proven lies straight in the face, it would fall on blinded eyes. I’ll smile while these answers run through my head like a pinball in a machine, but those comments tear at my heart and my self worth. They hurt. They’re rude—usually unintentionally. They make me feel little, shamed and send a clear message she has no intention of supporting me. So I close up. Terrified to ever mention my small business again—even though it’s the hers of the world that I need most to support me.

It’s always so confusing because I see them supporting a local boutique—going so far as to do try-ons or sharing coupon codes. I see them supporting a stranger they follow on Instagram who’s on a fitness journey and she’s sharing recipes from this person out of blind faith they’re any good. I see her supporting her hairstylist with before and after selfies. I see ME supporting her in her own business endeavors. I even see her pushing that new Kylie lip kit in apparent support of Kylie’s continued ass shots from her private jet. But when it comes to us direct sales gals…crickets. Why is that? Why won’t she help us? 

Now that I have you convinced to never do direct sales, let me tell you my best guidance on this and give you hope. When this happens, don’t give away your power. Also take this counsel with you through life in general. Stop giving away your power to people. What does that mean? It means don’t over-explain. Don’t over-explain your choices, your decisions, your reasoning for having decided to do whatever it is you did/do. For example, Bertha at the church group (after asking what your husband does) asks what you do and you tell her you sell for  “blah blah blah” company and then she looks at you and says, “Oh, I could never do sales.” You respond with, “Interesting,” or, “Gotcha,” or my personal favorite, “Ok.” Done. End of topic. Ask her what she does. Move on.

You really need to practice the pause on this one because your knee jerk reaction is going to be to explain all the ways that it’s actually really easy to sell and anyone can do it and you aren’t a car salesperson—and here’s why—and people are selling themselves daily by all their pictures on social media—selling their kids and how happy their marriage is and their recipes and all the things. Blah blah blah, verbal vomit all over her and she just keeps looking at you like, oh hunny you’re so one of those people, and then suddenly you, breathless, decide to quit direct sales.

It’s the over-explaining. With each desperate reason you give her, you are giving away your power. It’s a total mind eff. It makes you want to beat your head against a wall and it makes YOU question your well thought out decisions. This random person, with one silly statement, has suddenly made you question something you were passionate about two minutes ago because she’s set herself up with that inconsiderate response to make it seem like you need to give her justification on why you do what it is you do AND if you can’t convince her why people can sell, she’s not only right but insinuating you can’t really sell it either. Might I add something? Most times we bring this anguish on ourselves. Bertha doesn’t even realize what she’s saying. We live in a very egocentric world where it’s all about me, me, me. You tell her what you do, she finds a way to turn the conversation to make it about her. We do this a lot. I do this unintentionally, you likely do as well. Was her comment lame? Totes. But we do have to take part of the blame for giving her that much power to doubt ourselves.

Doubt is a powerful thing. Think of it this way–you’ve got this boat. You can drag Bertha on to take a ride–kicking and screaming–only for her to get seasick and throw up everywhere ruining your boat and leaving you questioning if it was your captaining that made her ill. Or, you wave and leave her on the dock without letting her anywhere near your precious vessel. Bon voyage, Bertha! 

You have no obligation to convince or explain to anyone why your business is the best and you love it. Period. She wants on the boat? She needs to be onboard with you–ha, get it–onboard? Save your energy and passion for someone who wants it, someone who genuinely wants to see your boat or wants to take a cruise with you if even just for fun. Practice the pause, and don’t give away your power. You could literally answer, “Ok.” to all of the above questions I initially presented. It ends the convo and I promise it will stun her. She’s expecting an explanation. She’s expecting a reaction. Don’t give it. Be kind always, but protect yourself. This tiny, super simple trick will save you a ton of heartache, a ton of doubt in yourself and will leave you looking like an ultra confident business woman who really doesn’t care if someone gets it or not. I believe it’s part of the reason I’ve been as successful as I have in this business–if only it didn’t take me so stinking long to figure it out!

Let me also say this—sometimes Berthas come around. They might just need to see your boat sail for a little bit before they want to take a ride. They may need to see you in action as a captain before they trust you won’t drown them. I have hundreds of Berthas in my customer base and even on my team and it’s honestly in using this tactic that it happened. Also, there are people out there who will initially support you. People who will cheer for you the second you meet them. They will go out of their way to help you as best they can by liking your posts or trying your product before they go grab something similar at Target or telling their friends about you or simply talking to you about your gig. They’re out there. I promise. They’re absolute gold and they will be shiny, beautiful blessings in your business. 

Sucker Punched

I punched Kurtis in the face once. Not pee wee punch no return punch, but left hook with every ounce of strength I had behind it right into his eye socket punch. What could he have done to warrant an assault like this? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

I was walking down a grocery aisle, pregnant. The tile beneath my feet was an older pattern in a speckled cream tone and the florescent lighting cast a yellow glow down the cereal aisle I was perusing. I didn’t have a shopping cart because I was only there for a few things. As I made my way down the aisle, a sudden dread came over me. Do you know that feeling? It’s heavy and unexplainable. Sometimes it’s justified and sometimes it’s not. I felt I was in danger. Panic set in to the pit of my stomach. I wanted to run away but I wasn’t sure what I was running away from. Also, I was quite pregnant, so running would’ve been waddling. A large man turned the corner and started lurking up the aisle towards me. He was in a gray hoodie and I couldn’t see his face. As he neared, I could see his fist and he was pulling back as if to punch me aiming for my stomach. I covered my pregnant belly with my right arm and, as he leaned in, I punched him with every bit of power in me. Turns out I didn’t punch him. I punched Kurtis. 

I sat straight up in bed–rising from the dead–turned and threw a left hook into the face of my peacefully slumbering husband. The second my fist made contact with his eye, I woke up. I was dazed, scared and then horrified. I imagine he felt the same. He woke immediately, covered his swelling eye and choked out a groggy, “WHAT THE HELL.” He looked at me like I was a lunatic. Ok, it was dark and I don’t know what his face looked like, but I assume it was that. I couldn’t get the apologies out fast enough. I’m so sorry! OH MY GOD Kurtis! It was a terrible dream. I’ll get you some frozen peas! Was it a good punch? 

This wasn’t my first episode, although it’s the first one where I physically acted out. Actually, that’s a lie…I’m literally just remembering one other time someone was assaulted by me acting out a dream. 

We used to go to a little dive resort in Wisconsin called White Lake. It wasn’t ritzy but it was perfect in my eight-year-old eyes. It was small, safe and the essence of a summer getaway just right for our small family. We looked forward to every year. One fateful summer, I fell off 8′ monkey bars and broke both of my wrists. Into matching hot pink casts went my arms for the summer. That year at White Lake, we stayed in a little resort room and I shared a bed with mom while dad has his own. We woke the next morning and mom was mad at me. Not really mad, but mad the way I’m mad at Kurtis when I have a dream he cheats on me. Ya know? I didn’t understand why she was giving me heck. Turns out it was because I was bashing her in the head all night with my casts acting out a dream I never woke from. It’s still a standing joke, but now as I remember it while writing this, it makes my episode with Kurtis all the more intriguing. 

For years I’ve suffered from some kind of sleep issue. I’ve never had it tested or been to a clinic but it’s been a constant my whole life. I’ve always talked in my sleep—which lots of people do, so that’s not all that weird. I also physically jolt awake in my dreams if something painful is about to happen—like if in my dream I’m about to fall down stairs or crash into a car I will suddenly jerk awake. I remember once when I was younger waking myself up acting out a dream. In my dream, I was trying to cross monkey bars (there are those stupid monkey bars again) and I kept hitting my head on them. In reality, I was hitting my head against my headboard over and over and over again. I finally woke up after one brutal smack against it. 

Things got creepier as I aged. I get what I now believe are sleep paralysis episodes. It’s the strangest feeling. You’re floating between knocked-out sleep and drifting sleep. It’s that muffled in-between that a professional would likely say is transitioning from Non-REM to REM. Usually something scary happens in this dream state that terrifies you. I scream for help at the top of my lungs but nothing comes out or what comes out is muffled like someone is covering my mouth. Half the time I don’t remember what makes me so terrified but a lot of times when I finally wake and can move and talk, I’m reduced to tears I’m so scared and hopped-up on emotion.

Sometimes I do remember that in-between and it’s always the same—I think my eyes are open but they aren’t. Everything is dark grayish brown and I always see a dark shadow lingering at the end of my bed. I can never make out what it is but it’s there and it’s petrifying. According to Kurtis, my screams come out in muffled wails and I shake but don’t really move. Norbert used to get so upset by it he would lick Kurtis’s hand or try to lift his arm to wake him and help me. 

Over the years, I’ve tried to figure this all out. You can imagine my feelings when I watched The Haunting of Hill House. Part of me was ready to commit myself to an asylum because suddenly I was convinced I had a Bent Neck Lady in my life. The other part of me was grateful because I totally, totally experienced Nell’s terror. Now, I’m not going to kill myself, it’s not an everyday thing and I never lived in a haunted house (I don’t think so at least), but that show brought to light a legitimate occurrence that people–me– go through.  I remember when we first saw the show I was on the davenport like, omg I’m not alone! Kurtis was even creeped because everything described in the show he had already heard from my own personal experiences. Ghosts and demons aside, it is likely a true sleep disorder called sleep paralysis that I have along with a slight case of REM Sleep Behavior disorder. What’s interesting…concerning…is I have symptoms of both. Paralysis you can’t move, REM disorder you act out. So I’m over here all kinds of wiggidy-wack with BOTH. Maybe I should go to a sleep study… 

Needless to say, it happens most when I’m overly stressed or tired and what’s odd is it’s worse in some homes than others. I know, totally weird. It was at it’s worst in my home in Canada and our first home here in Dubuque. Those were also during the same period of life, which is also intriguing. I can’t explain it and whether I ever get tested or not, it’s likely unexplainable. In the large scope of knowledge, people actually know very little about sleep–even the experts. Yes, there are lots of studies and theories but it’s still quite an unknown. What I do know, is that my poor darling husband was the victim of my messed-up sleep issues. However, now that I have him thoroughly convinced of it, if I’m ever particularly angry with him some night I have an alibi for “accidentally” socking him in the face again. I kid, I kid…