Srsly, I try not to die a little inside every time I miss TWD and Flash live tweets now.
Ok, so I wasn't really done with my thought organizing in the last post, due to time constraints, but let's jump back into that, shall we?
I have finally titled a piece I'm working on about *entire brain stifles fingers and mouth*
Still 6 pounds down from August. I'm hungry. Oh, yeah, I haven't had nachos in a week. I know everyone in the Force just felt my starvation pain. Thank you. I felt you feel that.
Cut my coffee in half again this week. Officially down to exactly one measured cup. My big mugs look half empty now. The withdrawal headache is easing up a bit.
The size 7-8 slippers I finally caved to picking up from Walmart this week feel like size 6. The disappointment is real. The saddest part is me having the smallest feet, so I can't gift them to anyone.
Now that I've managed to establish a somewhat firm fuzzy boundary around my bedroom (extremely fuzzy), my entire brain of cells is chanting TAKEBACKTHEHOUSE TAKEBACKTHEHOUSE TAKEBACKTHEHOUSE and I'm doing my best to plug my ears and go lalalalala.
I met a woman in therapy today who has nearly 20 years on me. She was there after reconstruction on thumb because arthritis ate up a bone in her wrist. Even with the usual 'growing old' rhetoric, which I heartily agree with, the context was still so lopsided that I was glad when she had to leave so our convo could be over. I'm still having difficulty empathizing with people way older than me who have less difficulty than I do and think something is so hard when clearly they've been enjoying more capability far longer than I ever dreamed, although yes, a thumb reconstruction sounds horrid. (She was literally able to do way more than I was with the exercise putty, and I'm 7 weeks out from carpal tunnel release, so clearly something is still wrong with my hand.) It's not so much feeling self pity as ok, I already dealt with that, is there anything more interesting to talk about kind of thing. I mean, so many other drops and mentions about a real life, I wouldn't have minded hearing about what she assumed was boring, right. When I'm with a therapist, I generally try to talk about something we both find interesting since they must hear pain junk every single day and they're probably sick of it, I know I am, and I'm not there to find new friends to whine about the cold snap with. She suddenly blurted all the interesting stuff as she was walking out and I felt so gypped. Really? You just leave me dangling full of questions now...
I looked up scleroderma, since my therapist thinks I have it. I have follow up with primary the day before my birthday. I'll likely get a flu shot and now possibly donate blood to see how much worse my life might have been all this time behind my back. Meh. It could certainly explain a few things, but I'm already beyond my personal life expectancy, so it's not really bothering me, aside from it also explaining a lot of how my mom went down. One of my sisters has sjogrens, the other has I think 3 kinds of arthritis all over her body, and other things abound as well, so I'm just not terribly surprised. What did you get for your birthday? Scleroderma. Oh, sounds nice. I am really appreciating the wicked sense of humor a friend of mine on my street had before she moved away, and I'm missing it lately. It didn't matter how badly something sucked, she lived her life the way she wanted and always presented as having it all together, and that humor was a sort of mockery I didn't understand back then. Totally getting it now.
I'm the sort that pulls back into a corner making sure other people are doing ok first. That's a tough challenge, especially since I'm not at all mousy about how I feel. I shut up because I love them. Well, poor @bonenado hears it, and I do regret that more often than not, but I have so many memories of what I thought of people around me as a kid, and I know how ugly grown ups can be even when they think they are being kind. I'd like to think I'm living up to this life challenge, being a natural narcissist and definitely being territorial in a matriarchal way, meaning that my challenge is about learning to be sweet. It's hard. I wasn't born sweet.
But yeah, I'm all swimming around in a head full of where are we now kind of month because here comes my birthday, and *bam*, Google pulls the G+ rug out from under me, and inside a very dark room I don't generally share even with my psychologist, the swears I can hear inside are making even me cringe.
Our world revolves around the whims of the uber wealthy, you know that right. I should have gotten slippers from my local sheepskin guy. I should have stayed my course instead of following people on wayward ventures over the many years, and there have been several. I should have branded by now. I should be merchandising already. *quietly rests head on table because banging my head on a wall would only make it worse...*
Yeah, that flex up there is exactly what I was NOT supposed to do so soon after surgery, and why it's been swelled back up real hard ever since. I assess into occupational therapy on Wednesday specifically for that. My surgeon was very glad I called up to discuss it.
So this was me on the game server today, dealing behind the scenes while I dealt with a problematic duo.
click pic for a good write up about writer problems
I took half an opioid left over from my knee surgery just to be able to log back into internet. I cannot do anything but type with this hand. I'm back to square one.
Cool videos I've been watching to help pass the time while I ice my hand.
This next took me nearly an hour to watch because pausing to read all the things, but perfectly answers all the same things I was feeling about season 4. Essentially, I don't think Sherlock ever got off the plane.
I'm still working on this one because it's so long, but I keep coming back to it to continue because it's so cool.
I really do like this anon vid. Spot on.
I'm not on any particular side (the anons don't take sides, we are all humanity and should all be given the same considerations, dignities, and opportunities), but I do quite enjoy watching and listening to Julian Assange. This popped up in my suggestions so I watched it. He's a very pretty man.
Because I watch such a wide variety of things on youtube, I get all kinds of suggestions, and I filter through thousands just to watch a handful. I very quickly stop and move on if the first minute doesn't hold me. There are some really good things to see, and I'm so thankful I live in a time where I can see so much with so little effort and cost while I am stuck not being able to use my hand very well. #transparency I was once stood up by a guy who couldn't tell me he was an alcoholic. He had already come out as gay years before to me in a very bad area to be gay, but he chose to get shitface wasted and get picked up by another guy and then couldn't face calling me up to cancel, which I'd have been ok with. What he didn't know was that I am an alcoholic, too, and I'm pretty sure I've been much worse places than he's ever dreamed. You know what? Let it go. Just be you, guys. Own your guilt, your pain, your fails, and be human with the rest of us. We love you anyway.
Worst day ever. I hate everyone, I'm dropping everything I touch, everything sucks. At least I got a shower without incident, but it took full concentrated focus.
~~~~~~~~
Later.
Even tiny doses of opioids make me mean when they wear off. I did 3 half pills spread out yesterday, just enough to get thru the hard parts, and today I was everything evil until I finally took another half.
Now my world is soft and warm and everything looks like a magazine life, and I know now it was the drug and not me. I love again. I'm at peace again.
I clearly cannot do this to my family. Next dose will have to be a quarter. I've got to dose down as quickly as I possibly can and still keep just enough warm fuzzy to get thru the hardest parts.
One of the red flags is how wasted I feel on so little. I used to live on handfuls of pills around the clock for years before research finally caught up with experience and agreed that just doesn't work.
The worst part of any pain syndrome is the addiction/withdrawal cycles. The hardest part of living spoonie is the crippling depression and self loathing that comes with watching myself be mean to people I love.
More incentive to get healthier.
And along the way I figured out how to solve my FB problem. You know how you can custom share? They suggest making custom share groups like for family, friends, close friends, etc. I tried making common interest groups for awhile. Nothing really works without some level of frustration. I decided today that's the wrong approach. If some of my people are topic, issue, or content sensitive, I can make custom share lists based on things like fun, thinky, mood, nerdy, etc. I think taking an extra step or two will make me easier to take for some. I mean, I handle people that way in real life, right?
What the internet randomly says I can expect after carpal tunnel release surgery-
It is sensible to wait until your wound has healed to prevent your stitches from loosening and your wound opening. This usually takes 10-14 days. Most people are able to begin gentle driving approximately two weeks after their carpal tunnel surgery. I have a full driving schedule for physical therapy on my knee all this coming week and I live 20 miles out of town. My carpal surgeon was aware of this. What the heck is 'gentle driving'?
Most patients experience a full recovery from numbness in a day or two following surgery. Nerve damage takes longer to resolve. 6 months to one year after surgery is typically when recovery is considered complete and nerve damage has improved as much as is expected. Someone keeps telling me that a coworker was fine in 4 days flat, soz... Kinda not believing that one.
Paresthesias and scar tenderness are common in the subacute recovery phase following carpal tunnel release. A flare or aggravation of symptoms is common in the period of two to six weeks after surgery. Well, it hurts like hell 3rd day out, so yeah, kind of expecting that, but pretty sure my family will be expecting me to carry full work load the split second the stitches come out.
Driving (a couple of days after surgery) Yeah, the other hand, I imagine, because this random answer came out of the blue.
Writing (after a week, but expect 4-6 weeks before it feels easier.) I can barely pick up and maneuver a pen for one word atm, but srsly, 4-6 weeks??
Pulling, gripping, and pinching (6-8 weeks out, but only lightly.) Totally believe this, barely even tugging on a sock felt like pain shocks from a cattle prod. I was very strongly commanded not to do ANY pulling or lifting until the stitches come out 2 weeks out from surgery. Guess they've seen a few rip open.
Expect 10-12 weeks before your full strength returns, or up to a year in more severe cases. Define 'full strength'. Wow, nearly 3 months? Just how bad off were you?
After surgery, you will be discharged home in a wrist splint and a bulky dressing. The dressing may be removed 3 to 4 days after surgery, but you should continue wearing the splint provided for approximately 6 weeks. K, where in the world are they getting this splint stuff, I never got a splint.
Carpal tunnel syndrome cannot be cured, but surgery to alleviate symptoms can be successful. The success rate of surgery to relieve symptoms depends on the definition of “success” and the metrics applied. For example, with respect to alleviation of symptoms, up to 90% success is reported. Was cautioned that I'm in the category for only 50% recovery because I've had nerve damage for so long. I keep hearing about the coworker that was apparently fine in 4 days. Must be nice. Tomorrow is my fourth day and I can still barely move a mouse.
K, enough of that. If this all works out well, I might do left knee and left wrist on the same day down the road if I'm having unresolvable problems in future. It's been really convenient getting it done all at once on the right side, and left will probably be less difficult since it's not my dominant side.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Next day.
Remember the old days when people would tell me what my public feed was allowed to have in it? Like beliefs and perceived intelligence level and so forth. I've plateaued again with a whole new even bigger mix of people and one subset is consistently baffled, so I've either got to leave that subset out of future shares or find a way to incorporate them without the culture shock of other people in the world being allowed to think differently. That's a lot of work.
Meanwhile, a player on game is determined to bend the laws of gamer physics around sheer will and I am patiently standing around while they figure something out and don't realize they left the game ages ago...
If I seem a little testy, I'm still in acute injury level of inflicted healing with med intolerance challenges and I am underwhelmed with the laughable cooperation understanding we barely have in my house. Too many agendas, too little personal space. I'm also coming to loathe rabbits in the house.
I'm clearly in a bad mood and there's not much I can currently do about it, so see ya.
This playing card is from the the board game 24: Countdown
which I have in my house
In 2008 I struggled with who I feel like I'm supposed to be being. I struggled with my belief system and what I inherently feel is right. I struggled to express myself against a mainstream grain that had me rigidly locked into formation to the point of self destruction. I struggled for my life, my soul, my sanity in a world full of locked rooms, rules about keeping secrets, and masks we were all supposed to be wearing. Colors suddenly seemed very important to me, and it was crucial that I find my color. I kept remembering blue, it permeated my dreams throughout my life, and I could feel it was time to migrate somehow.
Always dreaming, never sleeping, kind of seeming I'm ok,
Touching no one, having no fun, wishing to go out and play.
Hear me whisper, feel me passing, wonder what they think of me,
See me fading, I'm just shadows, tasting only what is free.
No commitment, no surrender, nothing to pretend to hide,
Live forever, slowly dying, falling out of either side.
Keep me running, flying nowhere, prancing round a misty dawn,
Racing stillness, moonlight standing, floating wreaths of breathy prawn.
Nothing matters, worldly guessing, logic hopeless reason chance,
Sculpted meaning, mindless treasure, my place is to sing and dance.
Ever since that spring I've felt like if I don't say what I'm supposed to say, what I'm here to say, I will fail. This is one of the first really honest pieces I ever wrote for public. Bluejacky (originally on xanga) is here to be honest. Going back now and rereading this after running into the Law of One is blowing me away. (That is a simplistic link for easy condensed thought, nothing else.)
(I'm struggling with the format moving this over from original since the coding went through a webkit grinder during server move years ago, and blogger won't let me preview correctly, so I'm winging this. I got it wrestled into a box on the laptop, no telling how it will look on mobile.)
Stars on a blue spectrum are moving toward us. Ever since I was born I have been fascinated by this kind of blue, blue light, blue in nature. I even wanted to be blue. Blue skin, blue hair. I sometimes dream in vivid blue.
Sometimes I feel like I have memories of something other than here as I am now. I have tried reading a few new age books and am a little disappointed at the consistent romanticism, although I long ago reached the conclusion in my childhood without anyone telling me this, that we are here to learn, and that if we fail to learn while we have the chance we get 'stuck' or something. Getting stuck is far worse suffering than any suffering we go through learning to sacrifice ourselves for love. Respect and courtesy for others in any shape or form is more important than any ideas we get in our heads that drive us apart with disdain and violence. Appreciation and contentment are more important than acquisition and pride. Truth is good, forgiveness is better. Our learning boils down to whether we pick being selfish or being selfless. Will we destroy others, or will we become wise and puzzle a way to get along?
If it is true that we travel around this universe (and others?) in all kinds of bodies while our spirits learn and grow wise, then I know I have been other places than here.
Time and distance have no meaning outside this box that contains time and distance.
As a child I looked up at the night sky and knew I came from out there. I felt this long before I ever encountered the idea. I feel like this place now, although I like it very much, is a place I am visiting. This feeling is congruent with many beliefs, including Christianity, Buddhism, and atheism.
When I first was, I was joy. I was energy- glorious, thrilling, exhilarating energy. I knew nothing else. I swam in an endless world of joyful energy, all of us bouncing and rebounding, racing, feeling nothing but joy.
That is what being alive starts out as, I am sure of it. I feel like I remember it. It's a very old memory, one I cherish, one I miss sometimes, without really knowing this or understanding it. But I want to feel that joy again. I want to feel that exhilaration and energy and swim in a sea of joy.
Was that the big bang? Was that the beginning of this universe? Will I ever know?
Over a great deal of time, I feel I became aware of a little bit going on around me. This is me, that is not me. I bump into that. That is what being alive starts teaching us. We are not alone. We interact. And over a great deal of time, we learn that we affect one another.
We start simply. Photons? Were we light? They say we come from the stars, but I'm sure that assumes our bodies are made of the elements created in the stars. What about our spirits, who we are? Is there more than this body? I feel like there is way, way more.
Over another great deal of time we learn concepts. Survive. Work to survive. Cooperate to survive. Absorb to survive. Kill to survive. Rocks don't do this. Algae, viruses, cells, organisms. Are cells self aware in some tiny way? Is that how a universe of cells in a body can communicate and cooperate so quickly? Can we become more than knee-jerk reaction, more than mindless consumption?
Over another great deal of time we learn feelings and the actions they inspire. Loyalty. Protect. Help. Give. Die to insure the survival of the whole. We become a society, aware of others. Tiny birds do this. Some insects do this. Some plants do this. Basic training for everything from the least of these to higher organisms like dogs and people.
Over more time we learn emotional pain. Loss. Anguish. The absence of others. The idea that we cherished others. The need for others. To learn from. To love. To share joy with.
And over more time we learn the strength to withstand all of this, to grow into a new kind of joy that transcends time and place, and who we are. We learn to see it all, appreciate it all, and become- what?
What is next? Please tell me it's not some inert heaven or nirvana where we stop growing. I think we have that concept all wrong.
Perhaps this universe is preparing us for the next one. Or perhaps one day we'll be outside the cauldron of universe bubbles in an completely new way of being, seeing, and feeling.
I love being here. I love learning geology, cosmology, anthropology- the histories of everything I can see. I feel like I am so lucky to be living right now, in this time and place. At no other time in human history has so much information been accessible with my fingertips while I sit in a chair. At no other time has so much knowledge been amassed. We almost know the entire history of the earth, the sun, how long they'll last, the history of our galaxy, it's probable future, and we even now know how old the universe itself is, and so many of its secrets. We were blind like salamanders in a cave only a handful of years ago, and now we can see what seems like everything.
This will never come again in human history. If anything happens to this earth, all this knowledge will be lost. If anyone survives over the next several thousand, or even a few hundred years, what's left of knowledge will become myth and legend. It will be as if we never really existed.
Blue is much more than a color to me. It is something I once was, a state of being, information I don't know how to access, a strong feeling I'm not able to verbalize. Somehow it is part of who I am, and for some reason, it feels important. I realize this could just be a manifestation of my weird aspie brain. But I also wonder if my weird aspie brain is able to feel more than this box world we live in. I have a feeling many more people can feel more than they are able to understand or willing to admit.
Enjoy learning on this earth while we have time. Enjoy that we are all precious.
I've spent years living a double life, tearing my head apart in one direction while I soak up entertainment in another. I love to think. Over the years it's become almost stupidly obvious that entertainment is a brain training medium that seems designed to stultify the actual thought process. I brought up the movie Equilibrium in an old Autisable submission called Psyching Up – Becoming Liberated. I've made a lot of progress since 2011, but even back then my dichotomies were glowing like neon.
I think it’s really bothering him that I can so easily skate around morals and ethics in noncommittal ways. I have a few opinions, but I’ve already realized a long time ago that opinions can change and that having opinions doesn’t necessarily affect the reality around my life. In fact, I believe opinions are rather useless in most instances unless they directly relate to the way I behave toward other people, and we all know I tend to believe the person in front of me is more important than any opinions I might have. I think I’ve lost him somewhere in all that.
I can see now that he was holding space for me as I navigated my way through my jungle. I know now that I learned to dissociate, that I passive aggressively displaced blame, and that I didn't live what I instinctively feel inside is right. I spent many years pinging around in my head like a pinball, defending things I actually don't even believe in. I was trained to do that. All the same, it bothered me, and I felt compelled to sift down meaning before I lost myself in wasted time.
This spring and summer I've been catching up on David Wilcock's stuff. I had always liked all the people on Ancient Aliens and often picked up books some of them wrote, but I had never chased David around the webs. Until this year. Wow, I missed a lot all this time, probably the most and the best, but like all the other synchronicity I talk about, I probably wasn't ready for it yet. As I've been listening to several years of talks, I was very surprised to hear thoughts I'd previously had coming right out of his mouth. I've run into this before, where I think something and then run into it somewhere, and have written about how ideas seem to hit a lot of people all over the world around the same time, and I joke about how all I have to do is relax and wait for someone else to do all the work developing the ideas that I feel compulsed to get into, and it's amazing how many times that has happened. It's like I just think something, I'd like to know more about this or that, and pretty quick, I run into it all over the place. Weirdly, though, quite a lot more poured out of David that I've been thinking about for years and had never run into before, because I've honestly just never looked that hard. It's been exhilarating.
But another very surprising thing showed up in David's talks. He brought up the Cabal... I've been going deep on that for awhile now, shows up on posts going back a few years, figuring out how I fit into the world picture and why I might know more than some others, but then David connected a whole buncha dots putting logic together with spirituality in a world going down a political sinkhole, tossed in Corey Goode (so fitting that his website is down right now, everyone mentioning the Cabal is being ripped out of spacetime) and everything just lit up. The whole point to being here is on the line. Our long line of evolutionary development is right on the edge of tipping over because a few super wealthy people think they own the planet. I already knew millions have been suffering for decades (millennia) for the rich and their games, but I had no idea the portent of now.
I love Jack Bauer. I love Kiefer. I'm sad Kiefer is a tool, but I'm glad I saw his existence. In spite of fails, seeds were planted.
And this was my song when I needed it most during the hardest parts of my life.
One of my life challenges is being a germ phobe. So when a rabbit plunged underneath my kitchen table and knocked over an electric popcorn popper I was storing underneath against the wall and then sat on the nonwashable nonstick cooking surface, I automatically nixed that popcorn popper from future use. That's how I am.
I didn't use to be that stringent. Many years of chronic illness later, I am keenly aware that germs can wreak havoc in our bodies. I grew up on a farm, and although I was strong and very capable of long work days (the horror, lol), I am not a strong adult. Pathogens and injuries are cumulative, and every day I face hard work just getting out of bed and keeping a routine going.
My depression went into the extremes this last year, but I kept doggedly at least keeping up with a schedule, forcing myself to keep cleaning up after others over and over, day in and day out. We have a verbal agreement that as long as they are out making money and living emotionally healthy lives, I will do the laundry and the dishes, and I throw in cleaning the bathrooms once in awhile. I've already made it through one surgery during this extra challenge, basically still doing all these chores myself when I should have probably been in bed, and in about a month I face a double surgery that will knock me off a chore schedule for at least a week or two. Right hand, right knee. You can imagine the fail I feel looking around my house. I could post pictures, but since a 'friend' showed up out of the blue and put my house all over the internet some years ago, and then a visiting group from China walked through my house another year unannounced, taking pictures over every room including the pile of dirty dishes on my counter during one of my chronic months when everything fell apart, I don't feel inclined to add to that kind of stuff.
In short, no one cleans up after me. They gag just cleaning up after themselves, so they don't. I find dishes all over the house, dirty socks have sat on my kitchen counter next to open food, stuff in the fridge I never bought will sit and rot until I throw it out, and on really bad days my house smells like something died.
I spent the first two days of this 'vacation' airing out my house, scrubbing the trash can, deep cleaning bathrooms and floors, literally disinfecting a rabbit cage that stunk to high heaven, on top of executing a new plan.
This is obviously no longer 'my house'. I am allowed to live here, yes, but all three stories are saturated with other people's things. A lot of my stress is about shared space. I'm a phobe, it's hard for me to share space. I need a place to withdraw, which is difficult. A person might not believe she did this, but three different times in the week before departure, I was walked in on in my own bedroom without so much as a knock, and the talking started the second the door was open. No knock, no hello mind if I come in and tell you something, no good morning or how's it going. Just full on walking in without warning. She's 30. It's my house, my bedroom. My mind is blown every time that happens. I don't own one square foot of sanctity or solitude in my own home. And I'm very forgiving of it because I know, given the personalities of the people I married into, this is much better than fussing.
But I need a boundary. I spent this week 'pulling back'. I cleaned out the last of my stuff in the livingroom and pulled in into my bedroom. Everything that is not mine or Scott's is going to be pushed out of my bedroom before my double surgery date. By the time I'm home recovering from surgery, I will have a clean peaceful bedroom to rest in.
I'm done with the rabbit. I like rabbits, I grew up with rabbits, but nothing is being done to satiate this rabbit's craving to chew, and it's only a matter of time before our expensive electronics become useless. No attention has been given to putting a little time and effort into protecting electrical cords to appliances that will cost thousands to replace. No pet toys for chewing show up. This rabbit has spent weeks throwing itself against the cage door upstairs. It absolutely hates living here. I had the rabbit brought down to the kitchen to care for while everyone was gone, and aside from being shut into a bathroom for a few hours to hop around every day, which it hates, throwing itself against and chewing the door, it has been in its cage, and I daresay, this is the longest its cage has been this clean since it moved into this house. This is not a happy rabbit. It feels the same way I feel, trapped and helpless to do anything about it.
I got a lot done though. Stripping out drawers and being able to lay everything out on my livingroom floor for a week without anyone walking on or moving any of it has been delightful. The longer my stuff sat all around me being organized, the lower my stress went until I was so relaxed that I actually felt good. I was doing all kinds of work with very little pain stopping me.
They come home today, any time now. I woke up 2 hours ago with a headache, and every joing in my body hurts. Interesting.
I love my people. I think they are fine the way they are, and this is just how it is. I don't think I fit in with them. I have made myself fit with with lots of concessions over many years. That has taken a big toll on me. I am different and they don't understand, just like they don't really see how the rabbit feels. They don't know what to do for me, so they walk off, just like they walk off from the rabbit. I don't feel an affinity for the rabbit because it's just more work, in my opinion. Whatever 'love' that is supposed to be going on with a pet is being entirely lost on this rabbit. It's just a piece of furniture, a fluffy doll to babysit the kid, something to learn about life on.
Unlike the rabbit, I don't feel like I'm something to learn about life on. I am a useful servant. In my own home.
I needed to get this out before my people walk in the door. It helps just to get the words out of the way. I hate judgmentalism because I grew up with it, and I'm finding out it takes a lot to keep positivity in focus. I hate being a cranky gripey person, and not feeling well makes it harder to be sweet. I want them to be happy to come home. I want to be happy to see them. I did miss them, but I sure didn't miss the extra work.
Time to let this go. Maybe I can sneak that popcorn popper out to the trash before they pull in.
p.s. I've been bringing in handfuls of fresh clover from the yard for the rabbit, also has things to chew on this week, plus a little fresh lettuce. It's been a bit calmer, but until it's free of this cage, I'm afraid it will always be sulky, and I don't blame it one bit.
Exactly 5 months until Christmas Eve, the biggest holiday of the year that periodically mocks my life. I'm currently 2 days into my 5-day crisis management plan, the crisis being that every day of my life is governed by the continual crises of other people, the management being taking back my house, dagnabit.
For the most part, I am not a materialistic person. I watched confliction pull my mom apart from her own more materialistically oriented family (the kind of quiet wealth where she knew of at least one person a generation back who had a luxuriously golden bathroom, yes, real gold), and although it's nice to have nice things and look nice and be nice people, it's also very disturbing to see how ugly some people can be behind those very nice things.
Sorry if this is hard to read.
When I was a little girl I was told "Pretty is as pretty does", and I grew up noticing how hard people try to hide how ugly they really act when they are trying their best to be pretty people with pretty houses. It made no sense to me that my mom was her ugliest on Sundays, when she was under pressure to get four children to church. Incongruity is one of my favorite words, because I thought about it so much.
Christians being racist make me physically nauseous, thanks to my beautifully ugly grandmother cutting her own son off from her life. I cannot even imagine rejecting my own grandchildren, and would never dream of turning a child of mine away from my house, and that very much includes a step child. She is mine. I raised her, I love her, I will never not care deeply for her and her child. I try to imagine sometimes going back in time and having a discussion with my grandmother, with her at this age I am.
My own life in this house feels like insane hilarity and jocularity in a sort of cosmic joke kind of way, where whenever I even attempt to pretend I come from nice and pretty people, everything around me explodes apart into crisis after crisis until I am so beaten down that simply falling on my face as gracefully as possible for the millionth time is wearing me out badly enough that I can barely function emotionally. I have to switch everything inside of me off to make everything else around me ok, and usually everything around me is so chaotic that all I see is other people flailing through their lives. They may think they're holding it together, but what they're really doing is flailing from one crisis to the next in pretty clothes.
I have very real PTSD over the compulsion to look our best. Both my sisters had eating disorders in high school, I was a chain smoking alcoholic when I looked my prettiest (skinniest), and I know other psychological disorders very well, thanks to extended friends and family with a variety of challenges, so I recognize that my own life is about surviving other people's crises all around me in my own home. I am surviving poor coping skills, a host of displacement behaviors, all kinds of fallout originally intended to fix the happiness factor that can't possibly be maintained, and I'm the one drowning.
I'm drowning in materialism. I'm drowning in things. I'm drowning in products that promise beauty and happiness and better living. My house is so full of junk continually coming into it that I can't walk through a single part of it and not see it. I can't escape it, I can't make it stop, I can't put it anywhere that it will stay. The funniest part is that I'm the one home all day long with all this stuff.
I could be an ugly person and draw big ugly boundaries so that I have a beautiful house, or I can choose to be a pretty person and allow spillways of people I love splashing through my life and have a beautiful home. Because of the emotional traumas I saw and went through growing up, I will never make a material object worth more to me than another person's feelings. I want to be happy to see the faces of the people I love, not angry because they messed up something material.
But I really need my bedroom back. I need to stop feeling like I'm swimming through my own house. I need a safe place to hide. Maybe it's time to make a boundary.
I could go on, but I don't want to be an ugly person. Being walked in on without knocking (not talking about the child) is better than not being spoken to. Sharing space with people is better than being alone.
These are the other people I wish I could see. It's been years again.
Like I finally said out loud for the first time in my life the other day, though- I've been cleaning up after people since I was seven years old. That's how old I was when I started folding laundry, doing dishes, cooking, cleaning the house, and helping my dad with the chores outside. Come October I will have spent 50 years of my life cleaning up after other people and their animals with no pay or reward back except that I get to live in a house I didn't pay for. My biggest challenge lately is not feeling peevish. I think about all the women all over the world over thousands of years who could probably say the same thing. There is no escape or relief, there is nothing that can ever repay us, and our only reward is seeing our people thrive because we worked so hard behind them.
It's lately come to my attention that I've been keeping up all this time with a bone chip from my thigh bone migrating around the band of tissue holding my knee together. "There is a focal full-thickness chondral defect present involving the central weightbearing portion of the lateral femoral condyle measuring 0.6 x 0.7 cm in the transverse and AP dimensions with a mild degree of underlying reactive edema-like marrow signal abnormality. A similar sized chondral body is present within the lateral compartment adjacent to the posterior aspect of the lateral femoral condyle. Intermediate grade chondromalacia is present involving the patellofemoral compartment with surface irregularity and partial-thickness fissuring."
I went out to pic clover and zucchini for BunBun and felt sorry for the maters.
Basically, I have this one week to rearrange my life so that I will be able to heal comfortably after surgery next month. I have a handful of days to do all the things for myself ahead of time that I know other people won't have the time to do for me later. After that everything will go wildly out of control again while I'm stuck healing, and as soon as I can get around, I will be swimming through more new (and used, thanks Goodwill!) things coming into my home.
I know a few people who will find it alarming that I've started matching up all my novelty sox in desperate effort to feel more organized. Yes, it's that bad.
I checked out Farscape, there are 88 eps because 22 per season for 4 seasons. I might map out a schedule for that. That could easily take a year. I know, right, that's just funny, considering my seeming severe lack of focus and motivation for my own fandom. Honestly, I've been planning this rewatch for years, and I seem to just never have the time for some reason. How do whole years just slip away like that?
My other list is mapped out and ready to execute. I will have 5 1/2 days of me time, or 'go' time. I don't foresee leaving the house. There's every chance I could fall into a funk and stare at the ceiling for hours. I've already told myself that if I wind up reiterating my fail list to myself, I'm not going to listen. I refuse to listen to that stupid fail list again. I have several youtube channels on standby in case that happens.
I guess I've processed through another feeling I had put onto a shelf for awhile because I didn't know what else to do with it. It's weird that the relief I thought I'd feel is actually just numb, like there's nothing there, which I know can't really be true, but it's all I feel. I pick it up, look at it, feel numb, put it back down, walk off, don't miss it, wander back later, notice it, pick it up, feel numb, put it down, nothing. Somewhere in my head someone keeps suggesting maybe I'm not seeing a little red flag popping up with "FEELINGS HERE" on it, but I see absolutely nothing. Do feelings just stop like that?
I remember in grade school, I was one of the innovative kids on the playground that would reorganize all the kids into focus groups, and then we'd wind up in trouble. In third grade it was Red Rover. I showed them how easily we could flip each other if we locked our arms, and everyone wanted to be flipped. All it took was one kid not understanding how the flip worked to get us disbanded. You can't just grab everyone's hair in the middle of a flip and then scream to a teacher that we all tried to kill you without it all sucking for the rest of us, and that's basically the way I view life in general. You wanna do stuff, then do stuff. If you have a problem with it, don't do it. But don't crash the entire party being lame about half-assing your own life, right? Learn how to do something, or at least learn how to have fun trying.
Of course, real life isn't that simplistic, and it takes years learning to embrace our own selves, much less how to let other people off the hook and stuff.
I guess I just wanted to feel something. It's a bit novel realizing for the first time in one's entire life that reciprocation falling flat (after awkwardly stumbling into a full out launch of tripping the wrong way) doesn't have to feel bad. It's funny that all it took was one wrong word to set me free.
Once every 5 or so years I go on a massive deep lurk for people who disappeared from my real life years ago because I suddenly miss them and want to see how they are doing. I usually find them, no matter how far off the social media grid they think they are, and kinda stealth around looking at life specs without them ever knowing. My level of social awkwardness amounted to hunting favorite people down back in the day. Pretty sure a few had no idea what to do with me.
So I missed one of my very favorites from way back. I finally found out today that he wound up in a tragic accident on the day I wrote this on pinky blog, and I don't know if it was tower/line equipment related or highway or what. I never heard about it because he and I had both distanced ourselves so much from our common acquaintances in a place we both very much loathed. We never kept in touch, even though we were clearly dangerous running into each other out of the blue.
Like when you walk into a stifling hot room of several hundred crabby people sorted into long slow moving lines waiting for student loan checks and everyone is listening to a couple of people enjoying a scifi joke and pun showdown after long months of not seeing each other. We had magic that we couldn't stop if we tried, easily did a solid hour of natural standup just laughing about everything scifi we'd ever seen. I've never done that with anyone else in my life, especially so publicly. I think neither had he. I think it scared him silly, how easy that was.
I saw him one more time after that because we accidentally parked next to each other at a whole other college some years later, and since he slouched and turned away, I pretended not to see him and just got into my car and left. I don't ask questions or take it personally because I've had days like that myself. You never know what's going on with someone, and he happened to have confided some things in me that most of his friends and family didn't know back then (including thinking about suicide), despite how rarely we talked. I'm still not sure why people do that. I've talked about it before, the way people just walk up to me out of the blue and spill their lives. I think he was afraid I could read his mind, honestly. I walked right into his head and made it so easy because our heads were so much alike.
The reason I looked him up today is because I kinda got to thinking this week about all my 'boyfriends'. I never really got into boyfriends, most of my relationships never even hit first base (without alcohol, especially), but I seem to have a string of guys running through my entire life's background who I have hooked up with more intellectually on the side or something. I'm sure if I weren't super ace (don't laugh, actual former, just give back that pic of me in the Planet of the Apes Halloween mask) I'd be dangerously close to causing a string of mutinies throughout my life. I can't help hijacking other people's brains and playing with them, but even aspienado can appreciate the time that takes away from loved ones.
But I wish now I'd gone after his time a little more while we had it. He was within 3 hours of my house the last few years. If my current 'boyfriends' were that close, hell yes we'd be running into each other. Life has become too precious not to see people at least once a year. I have no idea if he cared to lurk the webs, but I know he was certainly capable. Unfortunately, I went underground one year and blocked so many people that even if he wanted to, he might never have found me again. I'll probably never know now.
Just going to put this here from a post I wrote the day after. I think it would've had us side split laughing the way we did in that student loan line. Anyone who knows him well enough to know why would totally get this. Personally, I've never made it through this entire vid. I think about 3 minutes is plenty, but it's ok if you want to space out into the jazz and eye locks.
I think, basically, my brain skips straight to the chemicals. I'm getting the feeling lately that my psychologist may have had this figured out a long time ago. Maybe one of the reasons I'm so awkward at peopling is because I skip all the cues straight into a sort of intellectual intimacy that I take for granted. I don't have a clue and I skip merrily past all the silly I could care less about and go straight into people's heads and find the feels, and then because I'm so oblivious, I hang around not realizing how intimate the bonds I make are.
Who knows, maybe we need more of that. It's hitting me tonight that he made it past the suicide and lived the life he needed to, despite how dire it all looked at the time. He must have known I knew, and maybe I helped make it ok. I'd like to think so.
Truth is hard. Love is harder. Being ourselves is hardest. I'm sad for his partner's loss, yet thankful to find out he had someone.
Well, at least I've kept my time orientation up until the 4th of July straight this year... One of those fun factoids about me a few might have missed along the way, lol.
So the 'tick fever' is technically 'over' now, meaning the antibiotic has killed the germs, but I'm still living with the leftovers of rapid internal destruction, meaning my knee is still swollen and muscles all around it still a bit stiff, and I'm still in and out of chills and low grade fevers. I was told the severe fatigue could last all summer, so no guilt for lotsa naps. We checked for autoimmune kick on the off chance, and I'm super thrilled my SED is only 15. I'm nearly 4 years along now without a real autoimmune flare. I used to live with SEDs around 70 for months, eventually came down around the 40s, then finally the mid 20s, but it was always steady. Seeing a 15 in the middle of acute systemic attack is fabulous. That alone cuts back on extra 'complications'.
Since my knee swelled so hard and walking was impossible for a few days and the doctor sent me off for xrays and MRI and then to ortho, what's showing up out of that is ancient damage from an old injury (likely part of the being ejected from the flipping car thing over 35 years ago since it's near a nearly ripped in half muscle in my thigh from that era), and apparently I've been living with a 2/3 of a centimeter chip of thigh bone floating around the perimeter of knee cartilage and occasionally getting caught in awkward places that makes walking impossible and causes nasty pain when I try. I always thought my knee was going out of track and locking up, and I'd just wait it out and then I could use it again just fine, but nope, everything else is healthy and it's the fragment saying howdy. The doctor who can do the scope to get that out frequently couples up with the surgeon who is doing my carpal surgery, so I may get both those done on the same day at the end of August.
Synchronicities galore going on around that tick.
The fun part was ortho asking how in the world I lived with that this long (this is considered a high pain injury), which is testament to the amount of pain I was capable of enduring by the end of my teens.
I mentioned pins in dolls in my last post, well, people who wish ill on me really have no idea. The tick could have been well-timed karma leading to more healing, it could have been part of a fate wished upon me, possibly both bound up in a weird synchronicity, whatever. Accidents just don't happen around me. Everything and everyone around me is affected with weird synchronicity, and when I share something a little on the spooky side with someone is usually when they stop talking to me. My own family gets it, and we all just kind of accept it. Everything can be so chaotic around us and just keeps falling into place, all the bad keeps happening and we keep finding all the good. I've noticed that people who touch my life either heal with me or flee and hide. No one can hide from that, you know. Life is real and you will learn your stuff whether our paths cross again or not.
Moving on.
My to-do list is so far behind it's insane, but during all this challenge, Myke snuck in and did the impossible, which I've mentioned in a couple of places, and I have felt so grateful and re-inspired because of all that work he did that I've decided to really go all the way with commitment and take Lexxperience to the next level.
Myke and I have been developing a casual partnership for several years as I have been providing content and traffic pointing to SyfyDesigns,
and this year pretty much established family with several friends we share between movie gang and Snarkalecs (I'm talking about how we all got Holly that dryer in 24 hours flat). It's time to cut to the chase, as they say. I've worked hard on platform and presence, and I feel it's a good time to make my home with SyfyDesigns. Myke has always been there for me. This is how and when Myke and I met.
5 1/2 years is a long time, and I'm looking forward to what we can do in another 5 1/2, barring any more synchronous misadventures in my life, lol.
In keeping with our original watch parties, let us celebrate.
I may owe some of you an apology. I need to do this before time slips away, if and when it ever does. I know a couple of people cheer that sort of thing on, demises and so forth, and I'm pretty sure at least one person somewhere out there has a little effigy of me stuck with pins, at the very least. You guys are the people I'm apologizing to.
I was raised under the belief that we must suffer in this life to win rewards in the next, or the afterlife, or whatever that is. Thanks to the parents who raised me, this belief was elevated to the art form of suffering for the sake of suffering without promise of any reward at all, although I'm sure they'd say that's not what they meant. My thinking became so efficient that I could even logically prove why this was a necessary ingredient in any kind of salvation of the soul, to go on against all the odds, to go on with no hope, because clinging to faith out of fear is the opposite of the love through thick and thin that we are supposed to be learning in this life. Begging the question of what love even actually is never came up in my family.
I learned by my thirties that the more I suffered in life, the more and faster I seemed to be learning things. Deep things. Things that floated over other people's heads. They could talk the talk, but they didn't live the life, as it were. As my eyes started to open I started seeing people all around me trapped in a duel existence, caught in an unending repetition of ups and downs, positives and negatives. Life is great, life sucks, I'm happy, I'm miserable, on and on without even realizing that they created the causes and effects of these ups and downs themselves.
Did I create my own sufferings? It was a tall order to grasp that I created much of my emotionally and physically crippling life. Not all of it was on me since children can't really override parents and get to better health care or make healthier emotional decisions a priority, but somewhere in all that flux, I became a powerful little person. I learned at a very young age how to manipulate my mom, how to outfox my dad, how to step up or step back when my siblings needed me, how to handle classmates. A few people who've known me nearly my entire life can testify I could be pretty mean in an ugly sarcastic kind of way that I mistook for being funny.
I'm not good at socially manipulating people, and I'm also not good at recognizing how I affect other people. Part of that is autism spectrum, but I'm not posing that as as excuse. I'm saying that I learned to use power because of it. My presence alone is powerful, and I know how to use it. I may bumble along, yes, and I may look like a ragamuffin without a clue, certainly, but I can go to each moment in my mind and find the pivots that changed every interaction, that forged every path. I can say someone had an impact on me, but I can also say I very definitely impacted other people. I seem to have a gift for noticing how causation works even if I don't have a clue how social skills really work. I can mimic those, but people who can use them naturally often don't seem to notice the ripples back and forth around them, and they are flummoxed.
There was a time when I knew of a few people who could do quite a lot of emotional and even physical damage to me if they knew where to find me. I could see no help for it, living blind and never knowing if pain and affliction could be around any corner. My child could be stolen, my house set on fire, my head torn apart with a bullet. These were very real fears in my life. I didn't know what to do about that until another person came into my life who presented the problem more metaphorically. I became a target in a weird popularity contest, I had to deal with fallout and consequences, and other people were afraid to give me enough information to make that stop. One person even told me they were afraid because that person could do hex spells or something. That made me stop and think on a whole different level.
I've spent a lifetime studying anything and everything relating to why we are here, what any of this means, and I concluded years ago that karmic justice, if there is such a thing, has to be about much more than an eye for an eye if it's to actually work. Karmic justice is about everything backfiring until we learn from our mistakes. It's not enough to learn to share what we feel or what we've learned- we must learn to share what we feel about what we've learned.
Karmic justice is very personal. If someone is targeting me, I cannot wish them harm back and beat the system or win the game. What we see on TV with all the shooting everyone up to get the bad guys isn't justice. Real justice is about the bad guys learning something. And basically, real karma is about embracing that we're all bad guys in the first place. We're all here on this planet to learn the same things in the end. There are some that create whirlwinds of havoc all around them while they walk in the calm eye of power, and then there are others who screw that power up just by walking into the room. Guess which person I wanna be.
If I have an enemy that wishes me harm and goes to the trouble to research where I am in order to hurt me, what I wish most for them is the loveliest distraction- a happy life. I hope their lives are so good that I'm not even a speck in their horizon. I wish them good food, loving family, loyal friends, great jobs, and all the awesome that goes with that. I realized along the way that when I pray for good for those who would do me wrong, I help my own life to be better. It took a long time, but I learned to stop wishing for death and woe on people I was afraid would do terrible things to me.
If I have an enemy that wishes me harm and goes to the trouble to spend hours haunting my web presence with their negativity and possibly even going to the trouble of uttering curses and doing mean things to inanimate objects in my name, what is it I wish for them? I had never thought of that before, and it kind of makes me laugh, but it's very real and I feel bad for them spending so much time, because basically my life has already sucked far worse than just about anything they could ever wish upon me. Of course, no one used to know this until I started publicly blogging. But seriously, what is it I wish? What do I pray for these people? After some reflection on myself as a presence, I decided I wish for them to learn all the wise things I have learned, and at the risk of being selfish, that would include suffering.
I grew up on the bible, and there are several bits in there about heaping coals of fire on other people's heads.
It's difficult to be pious without being arrogant when you look at it like that. Wishing other people good so God will find them in the wrong is what that boils down to. It would be more honest of me to simply be selfish and wish other people harm when they harm or intend to harm me, wouldn't it? Some would more eloquently point out that it means the cosmos gets the vengeance for us, just let go kind of thing. The honest would simply say we all get what's coming to us.
I have lived the sort of suffering that accelerates this learning curve, and if the meaning of life is about learning all this, then I suppose I should wish that enemies of my presence to also experience this accelerated learning. So, since God and the universe are much bigger than our tiny little specks of existence, I assume a prayer to That Presence to be far more powerful than another person making word combinations over a wrecked up doll, not because I have more power, but because That Presence does, and all I have to do is ask, given that it's within the parameters of what I am here to learn. Perhaps for anyone who could do me actual harm, as it were, since negativity is actual harm as much as anything, it would be pertinent for them to receive that same harm back to themselves so they can learn to understand why we are here in the first place. Like, perhaps I'll receive harm, but that should also be reflected back- what they create they also receive. They are, in effect, harming themselves. If I take damage, they take that damage as well. And so they may learn even faster, perhaps what they create to send out can be reflected back doubly.
I actually prayed for that protection. I prayed that to the most powerful being known to anything that's ever lived. I prayed that I keep learning and that my enemies learn as fast or faster than me.
I've never really shared this before. It seems a bit arrogant, as I'm writing it all down, but since it was between me and God, it was more a private pact. I must stand up to morality and positivity and confess it now if that is not to backfire upon myself, as well. I do not pray lightly. I have come much too far in this life to think I can get away with cheating.
So, in light of the #transparency I started on my last Pinky blog, in the event it really is my time to go (since I've had to abruptly face this week how close a shave this might still be), I feel like I owe some of you an apology. If you have wished me ill at any time, you have quite probably been through some challenges you didn't expect because of it. I do believe in One more powerful than us all, and I do believe this whole world experience is set up for karmic justice as part of a learning program (this goes back to my bluejacky days on xanga), and since I believe that, then I believe I must come clean and say that was my fault. If you felt your jaw clinch and your eyes burn reading that just now, then you know you also brought this upon yourself, and that if you try to wish more harm upon me, you'll be on the very edge of your own mortality. Because look where I am now, laughing on the side of a cliff, and you are holding my hand. I'm not saying you have the power to push me off a cliff (and I know that little thrill you just got thinking you could take me with you), but that maybe I'm the one holding you still on the cliff, because I prayed for you. Something to think about. Power goes both ways.
Thorns is an armor enchant that reflects damage back to the attacker.
click for fun romp thru 'chronic illness demotivational posters'
Those crack me up, lol.
So I finally made it through the rest of the Patrick Melrose miniseries, by the last ep they stopped being so subtle about the idea that the elite of the world are dying out and their children are done with their head games as they have their own children and realize how awful the generation above them are. I've been going through the same revelations myself through my own years. I think they did a really good job with the show.
@bonenado is home with me this week because scary big stuffs, so we're off and on hitting the DVR in between other things. Slammed through the last of the 12 Monkeys, and I've decided I'm going to buy that series and slam marathon the entire series over again sometime. I don't waste my money on entertainment, so that's a big deal. I really don't have the time to sit and watch TV, so I'm barely keeping up, but HUMANS and The 100 are caught up.
The more actual medical documentation I find on Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever, the more thankful I am for the weird synchronicities in my life that led to me even bringing it up with a doctor, because one sentence not being said at the right moment could have changed this path entirely. One particular info document to doctors mentions that expected mortality for untreated RMSF can be as early as 8 days, and people can take months and years to recover from the rapid damage even on antibiotic. That 5 day window is critical to staying ahead of the level of damage that causes 'neurologic changes' among a long list of other very nasty things. I have purposely pulled back just in case something spirals out of control and I don't have any more time to deal with explanations, contacted key people about current activity changes, and now this is here for everyone else. I've been in low grade fever all week, started having the headaches yesterday (brain inflammation is a huge risk with my autoimmune history), and still having difficulty walking on the affected leg with the swollen knee. The fatigue is unreal.
As far as we can tell, onset was around June 11th, BUT IF the sudden blood pressure surge 2 weeks before was part of it, I could be about a month in, and that would mean the critical antibiotic window was missed. The doxycycline *will kill* the RMSF germ, yes, but I could already have damage that could still become life threatening, or at the very least, make the summer feel much longer and more arduous than my normal spoonie summer with allergies and temp changes from AC and heat. I was already living with nerve dysfunctions and arthritis, and both the RMSF and doxy can kick off an autoimmune flare at any time, if I'm not already in one. Treating could get tricky. Best I can do is rest rest rest.
Still on the game server every day. Sorry if I'm slow to see private messages coming in. I know I had a lot more to do online, and I still have plans galore I want to get to, but it's important right now to keep my positivity focused for better healing. In the old days I crawled through coding and tweaks on bad days. I may be getting back into that, and THAT, basically, is what built my web presence in the first place.
Myke, Barry, Sam, Riv, Sploit, Vicki, Lisa Marie, Holly, #Snarkalecs, Matt, Aaron and Mel, Dylan and Dawn, all the Scotts, Mike B and his bois including the boss, movie gang (my rock), moc, fandom friends, everyone who lurks me and I know you're there watching my blunders and boofs and picking back up again- I love you. If I go through another brain crash and it's a slow climb again, I'm putting this here so I'll remember Pinky Robot euphorias started with you guys showing #aspienado how to hang out without blowing up the webs.
I have had several intelligent discussions lately about some really cool ideas and ways to make them happen, and even what makes me happy. I have enjoyed other people's company in several ways that makes me feel good about life.
I've lately had the luxury of doing some comparison thinking, experimenting with projecting possibilities on my own brain and trying reactions on for size.
For example, after the things I've already lived through, the traumas and illnesses that have taken me down into shards that I've spent years cobbling back together, what would be more shocking to find out I must live through next, and whether there is a comparison at all between something like rocky mountain spotted fever vs something like cancer in any of its various stages.
I'm lucky. I accidentally discovered a tick, accidentally wound up at a doctor follow up for something else within a decent range of finding that tick, and quite accidentally wound up on immediate treatment for something I wouldn't have suspected in the slightest even though I was obviously being affected.
And then to find out up to 70% death rate before this particular antibiotic was invented, and in the short time up to morbidity, a very miserable slide into the depths of hell that include inflammation in the brain, along with capillary fail all over the body and particularly lungs and other organs being damaged along the way.
People finding out they are in the first stages of cancer would live longer than I would without treatment.
Given my health and genetic history and my age, I'm lucky I'm alive right now as it is. So far I'm not terribly sick, no. So far I'm not suffering horribly like I could be without treatment. I'm very blessed and very lucky. But this is nothing to blow off like it's a piece of cake. Yes, I'll be fine, but, as with any length of cold or flu, yes, I will be a bit worn out and apprehensive, and I think I deserve that appreciation of circumstance. I've been very thankful for the handful of people who have actually understood the weight of this new challenge. There is no cheating on this life test.
Several long time agos, a friend here or there fussed about not being told something after finding out, like their feelings were hurt not to be on some kind of contact list about something important. If I contact someone personally about something scary and feel blown off, I don't waste my time on my feelings over that. I simply pare down the list. Apart from that, all my stuff is public, and anyone can check on me at any time. I understand that all our plates are full and sometimes we can't deal. It's ok.
If you're checking in to see how I'm doing, though, thank you, I've been having chills for about 24 hours along with the usual pain of aching all over that comes with any germ warfare. My knee is bendier and easier to walk on now, but still a bit gooshy with fluid near the tick bite. MRI today will let my doctor know whether any real damage has been done. My understanding is that doxy, while an excellent treatment, can't work miracles against some of the damage that can happen very quickly. That I have to do on my own over time as I heal.
I keep asking why we chose this planet, it's so toxic out there... lol. Guess it's really pretty, though. Hope you guys are having a great week. 💖
