It’s Not Working

Close up of a large white orchid J pointed out to me at the market. It has a pink and yellow center.

This me helping myself thing, it’s not working anymore and I am not sure what steps to take. If I go back to care through the hospital they will put me on a whole bunch of medications again, which don’t really help. Several trips a month will be required to see doctors, have my blood tested for medication levels and the only real action any of them will take will be to document everything I say or do. I’ll be available less for work, and with my position that means I will most likely lose my job. Without my job, we will be seriously hurt financially. What am I supposed to do?

I shouldn’t write any of this but, I need to let it go.

 

Sad Girl

Coloring with crayons a few days ago. It helps relax me but, I don’t nearly do it enough. It’s hard to sit on the floor, and we have no room for desk or table.

“People who fly into a rage always make a bad landing.”
~Will Rogers

As I feared, yesterday ended badly. I could tell you everything about why it happened, but it doesn’t really matter. What matters today, is that I need to repair the hurt. Let go of the pain, and wash away the feelings that my emotional processing is “wrong.”

At the end of my shift, when I was at my weakest I was verbally attacked and physically threatened. I called everyone for help (including the police, boss and my sweet) and everyone showed up. That in itself was wonderful but, I didn’t get what I was really looking for. It made me feel abandoned. My “abandoned child” came out, and I never felt more alone. It was terrifying, and it still makes me sad.

Today, I must rest and I am going to do my best to find some peace. There will be no “fake it till I make it” today. Nope, nothing but real faces today – all 5 of them most likely.

Let it Go

Two heads are better than one. Halloween prop. Taken October 6, 2015.

“One of the symptoms of an approaching nervous breakdown is the belief that one’s work is terribly important.” ~Bertrand Russell

Ramble

This is our friend Denail. He is a grey African parrot at a local shop. October 10th will be his 21st birthday!

Happy Birthday to our sweet feathered friend Denali! On October 10th he will be 21 years of age! How fantastic is that!? 🙂

Ok, that’s great about the bird but where have I been? (I hope some of you ask.) I don’t know what happened but, I dropped off the blogging map for a bit. Today, I’m plopped on my sofa watching Chopped Canada (boy that’s a weird version of the show.) Yesterday, I spent the day with the lovely J and tooled about town. We visited Denali, if you didn’t notice. He’s quite the character.

The week before, I worked 7 days in a row and ended up doing over time several days on top of that. It’s kind of funny because my job is not a critical type of role in the world like doctor, paramedic or something where you can see the need to work such long hours but yet, I do. It’s the standing joke that I actually never go home, I sleep on a cot in the back – if I actually slept. But no, I do go home. It’s been quite nice too, because J has been keeping on the dishes & cleaning so I just get to climb into bed and die for the evening. That’s what it feels like anyway.

Post op update: I’ve broken all the rules. I’m the worst patient ever. Same day of surgery, we went grocery shopping. Second day after surgery I was in pain. One week after surgery, I had sexual intercourse (oh my!) with my honey and one and a half weeks after I took a bath. This morning, I just had to have a hot bath – I couldn’t take it any longer. I was supposed to wait two weeks for both sex and bath, but I knew I would never make it that long.

And now for the weird wrap up to this rambling post. Who knew it would go from a bird’s birthday to sex talk but hey, that’s just part of who I am.

“I try to take one day at a time, but sometimes
several days attack me at once.”
~Jennifer Yane

Just Breathe

My #selfcareseptember two-tone tulips starting to blossom. A photo from my Instagram.

“Sometimes the most important thing in a whole day is
the rest we take between two deep breaths.”
~Etty Hillesum

Crying

Waking from a nap, he cleaned his face with his paw. September 22, 2015.

“Grief is itself a medicine.  ~William Cowper, Charity”

Sometimes, I just need to cry. I think I probably cry more than anyone I know personally. I’m absolutely sure that my neighbors hate it. I’ve learned over the years, that even with discussing my feelings and thoughts or journaling that I still have a build up of emotion. Crying is the final release, it’s cathartic.

Yesterday, I was a little scared. I refused any narcotic for my dilation and curettage with hysteroscopy because twilight sleep scares me. I’ve been sedated before, and I didn’t like how I felt when I woke. Heck, I didn’t even like the way I felt counting down while it was being administered. Anesthesia is necessary sometimes, I just don’t care for it. The anesthesiologist gave me medicine equivalent to anti-anxiety drug. I don’t remember the name. It made me drowsy but not asleep, or sick. She also gave me a nausea medicine.

It was a little painful at times, and today I still ache but I’m OK. There has been a lot of stress and worry build up in our household with this day surgery hanging over our heads. It really shouldn’t be that big of a deal, but it turned out to be. I know I had fibroids (they were hopefully removed yesterday) and I know I have other unique issues but, we must wait to hear about the lab results and see the photos in October. I have a good support person who loves me, thankfully.

I can’t take baths or have intercouse for two weeks, and that also makes me want to cry. Oh, such the drama Queen! Here’s to healthy uteruses and ball sacs my friends!

Leisure

Three cards from the Archeon Tarot deck by Timothy Lantz.

“If you are losing your leisure, look out; you may be losing your soul.”
~Logan P. Smith

The quote might seem a bit dramatic to some, but for me it about sums it all up. Today, is my second day off in a row. Yesterday, was fairly quiet. My body hurt all over (and still does today to some degree) and I had very little energy (and still don’t.) Prior to my actual time off, I planned to do very little. In fact, I decided I would only sleep, color, play with my Tarot cards and watch Youtube videos. I held true to my agenda but, I also did the dishes, went to Walmart (eww) and made dinner (sesame chicken drumsticks, white rice & fresh green beans.)

We watched missed episodes of The Walking Dead (who knew it was possible to actually miss an episode!) And I played with 3 different Tarot/Oracle/Self-Help decks out of my collection. I believe my collection now consists of 16 different decks. While playing with the cards, I took photos for my Instagram etc and I also reflected on anything I seen in each of the cards. I limited each decks playtime to 2 card pulls. It was nice, it was relaxing.

J asked me, are you having a good time? My response kind of surprised both he and I. I said, “I’m relaxing but I don’t know if I’m having a good time.” What is a good time? I know it’s different to each of us, but how.. how do I know if I am having a good time. Time is so calculated. Time is always measured and weighed. It pulls me back into the thinking that I should be doing something more, bigger, better and more valuable with my time. But, I am just me. I am not a surgeon, or a teacher, or an inventor, or..or.. or.. I just sell people stuff. I am not a great philanthropist, or activist or volunteer.. I just try to rest and evidently, play with my Tarot cards. I turned and gave him a kiss on the face, going back to the cards. I quickly asked “what does this card mean to you?”

I think a lot, and I think too much. It’s often self-centered thought. I could blame the fact that I’m an Aries. I could blame the past. Or, I could just try to wipe all of these current thoughts from my mind and take a walk. Does everything have to be so important? Labeled? How the hell am I supposed to know the answers? It’s my day off!

Progress

Yarrow. August, 2015.

“One may go a long way after one is tired.” ~French Proverb

I am tired. I am achy. My joints hurt, my hands are swollen and I wasn’t ready to be awake yet but, there is always some part of me that won’t relax. On guard. Ready to feel bad, for things left undone. Today, I will fight that niggling thought. Today, I will rest.  I deserve it. It’s amazing that I was able to will myself to work that many days in a row (12.) To get up, dress up, and show up at least for 8 hours most days.  I know many people can and do, but for me.. it’s a different story. I’ve come a long way. For years, I almost couldn’t do anything.  I couldn’t even think about stress, let alone endure any of it. Now, I tuck it under my belt and I use it like a tool.  I am progressing. But, as I said.. I am also tired. Be good to yourselves my friends, and take it easy. I know I will 😉

Always Moving

Taken by accident. Me, on the GO as usual. End of August, 2015.

“I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my eyes and all is born again.”
~Sylvia Plath, “Mad Girl’s Love Song”

I unknowingly snapped this photo carrying my new cellphone in my hand. Not having a case for it, I was afraid it would slip out my flimsy back pocket. Instead of tucking it safely in my purse, I opted for clutching it with a death grip and here is the result!

What you see up close, it’s a shiny black button on my very worn and favorite black sweater. Black leggings & my pink & black plaid Airwalks (given to me by my cousin.) Despite what some people think, I’m not a very fancy girl. Life just doesn’t allow that at the moment.

I remember the days when I tried so damn hard to look good. All of the dieting, being angry, uncomfortable, the sweating, restrictive garments, expensive makeup, hairspray, glued eyelashes that wouldn’t stay on, tanning, getting tracks of hair sewed or glued to my head. The money, the heartache. I don’t miss it one bit.

Work is all consuming right now, work & well… naps. I’ve got 2 cats & J that require lots of attention and sleep. Reading too. Almost finished reading “Life of Pi” by Yann Martel. I’m really enjoying it and if I didn’t fall asleep as soon as I got comfortable, I just might finish the darn book! I’d rather read than do just about anything anymore. Especially if it involves snuggling with the cats or the big hairless cat that occupies my life.

I hope this finds you well friends, what are you reading?

Struggle

Taken July 15, 2015 at 4:44 pm. Webcam used while laying on sofa. Not the best angle. Edited with PicMonkey.

“When a man is at his wits’ end it is not a cowardly thing to pray,
it is the only way he can get in touch with reality.”
~Oswald Chambers

Things have been a bit rough for me lately. I’m not doing any of the things that I really love. I’m starting to think it’s because I don’t really love anything. Reflecting back to a conversation with a counselor at my physician’s office, I remember describing the absolute shallowness of how I felt. Not, shallow like vanity but, perhaps hollow. She told me to “fake it, till you make it.” It’s what I’ve always done, but when does the faking stop?

My personal relationships have been tested a lot this year. I’m not a buddy buddy person. Outside of my sweet, I hang out with no one. I don’t make phone calls (except to my daughter, grandchildren, and occasionally my grandfather.) I have attempted to make friends and only found people who lie, backstab and gossip. It’s only reaffirming my hermit like self to remain isolated but, it gets lonely inside my head. Not having a cellphone that can take photos is limiting some of the only self-expression I have. No photos, no moments to save, nothing to share, no blog posts, no words leaving my cluttered mind. It’s getting rough.

Work is monotonous. I see the same people everyday, they buy the same things everyday. I even see them at the exact same time of the day. Every day is the same. I wear a uniform everyday, and nothing changes. And the same thoughts run through my mind.

I’m sad today.