Posterous theme by Cory Watilo

Filed under: panic attacks

I Can't Take Much More Of This

I _JUST_ found out that I'm not able to get to go to PT Rehab today, after all and once again. To call this devastating actually seems a bit of an understatement. It's not merely the pain. It's not merely the isolation. There are so many layers and levels as to why this has me mentally curved into a foetus position though I can't physically do so. Or I would.

This keeps happening and I'm so in need of my babies right now. Having all of these illnesses rolling on top of one another and not having the love and care to help sustain me at times like these just seems to make it feel even worse.

The red rash on the inside crease of my elbow appears to have been a fungal infection of the candida variety. At least it got caught in time so that though I've a few "dents" in my skin, most of it has cleared up. That's not shockingly upsetting since it's merely more physical evidence of how sick my body is as a whole.

There's a million things more but I'm far too sick to try and continue. Suffice to say that if you know me and know how and where to find me, please do. I'm in deep need of help. Emotional especially. My teeth are about to fall out of my head and I can barely handle sitting up and I seriously keep thinking I've reached the end of my proverbial rope only to find out that there's a little bit further I can fall.

About to overtly beg for visitors but there's very little reason to. Off to try for exhausted or maybe exhausting distraction. Need to call home and ask Will to bring a few things anyway...

Once In A While People Surprise

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I'm so incredibly knocked back by the past couple of years. Things healthwise continue to get worse.

My eldest cat, Purrbarella, whom belonged to Shawn in name and to me in heart, died in my arms a few weeks ago. My ex betrayed every bit of trust that I ever gave to him and each week brings a new shock including his behavior leading to my insurance and prescription coverages are both cancelled.

Erica has effectively abandoned her promise to help protect and assist me for a short period of time while I had my search for my new roommate/caregiver. But when I really seriously need her, she pulls the stunt of betrayal by denial that she always does. Why can't I trust anybody? Because those who I love quite often do betray my trust. Paranoia would be if I didn't have the facts backing up these feelings.

And watching the series "Camelot" I'm stunned already by the differences to many of the tales they made this version. Arthur screwing Guinnivere before she marries his first ever champion (not Galahad). Bleagh.

Need to make something easy yet healthy to eat. Roasted veggies may fit the bill. Even this late.

On the plus side: I lost my beloved and precious Kindle yesterday. I found a number I didn't recognize from out of state and the person left a message that was slightly ambiguous but the guy found it and called me and somebody from his construction team will bring it to me tomorrow morning! I had already called the only places it could have been but it must have fallen off my rollator only to be found on the sidewalk or by where my car had been parked.

I told the gentleman he had done more than his good deed of the week in his returning it to me. Granted I wouldn't have lost any of the digital media, but there's the expensive cover with built in reading light and so forth. I'm so pleased about it in multiple ways.

It's 10pm on Tuesday evening. Do any of my friends want to come to my rescue in companionship and watch a movie and eat some of my first ever homemade bread using my first ever breadmaker set up and apparently working just fine!

Okay. Things to do before sleeping:

1. Make food
2. Eat food
3. Watch more dreck
4. Walk dogs before 1am
5. Remember to take meds
6. Send Safeway shopping order in
7. Go through prepping mail for COBRA fix attempt
8. Start aquarium water renovation
9. Finish cleaning fridge for tomorrow

That's more than enough but with no care I have to hurt myself in order to try to keep afloat. There's so many little things that pile up. My illness keeps me from having the ability to do these things without it majorly causing problems for my health. Yet if I let it go, it will only continue in a downward vicious cycle. I have to balance very carefully.

And last but not least the pictures are of my sprained thumb with glaring deep bruise, my first piece of homemade bread (with butter) from my first ever loaf of homemade bread from my first ever bread machine. I used a Fleischmann's Italian Herb mix and it's so freaking EASY. So come to care for me and have a slice or two of fresh baked bread. And then a shot of a person who does far more than she should and far more, in fact, than she safely can manage...

This rant needed to be ranted:

I just wanted to write that I'm very glad that people think of me enough to lend me the books they lend me, but I have to let you know that I have no interest in them.

To me it is the same as reading a book on Creationism written by a "Creationist Expert" and while there's nothing wrong with it, I just have no interest.

Telling me that the car accident was my desire (or Kathy's or Delia's) or that my Fibromyalgia is all in my head is just insulting to me and I believe better of people (or want to) than that.

If you're a person who truly believes that when my roommate and new friend died because one of them fell asleep for a split second that it was our will/desire to have what happened happen (and I'm not saying you do, but I've had people say this to me in the past fifteen years) it makes me just as ill now as it did then.

My friends and family have my love and my true and honest desire for them to be happy. But all of you (!) please stop pressing your beliefs on me. Your systems do not work for me and I do not believe in them. I am glad that some of you have found love and somebody to share your interests with. I am also glad that some of you feel healthy and at peace. But what works for you will most likely not work for me.

Please understand that I mean no disrespect. However I feel quite disrespected by people ignoring the gentle hints and things I've said enough to lend me a book that makes me so angry and nauseous I can't fall asleep. It actually caused a full fledged panic attack because of how angry it makes me that anybody would ever say that Delia and Kathy (and my other friends who have died due to random chance) wanted to do so. They didn't. They were young and full of life and full of love and they damn well deserved a better end and later end than they got.

So my husband is falling asleep beside me while we both wait for the two Ativan to make their way through my system enough for me to stop fixating on the book that is downstairs, sitting on the counter. Not wanted. Not asked for. In fact, asked to please let me ignore it with it's pseudo-science and lack of actual physics knowledge.

Nobody deserves to be gang raped as a young child. Nobody deserves to be molested and then raped as a child. Nobody deserves to fall asleep in a car only to either be one of the two dead or the last survivor having the scent of dirt and blood in their nostrils fifteen years later because of a book on a table. Just leave it be. Leave me be. And I will do my damnedest to leave you and your (to me) psychotic wish dreams of a world with meaning and faith alone. Because in my eyes you're just delusional and I'm alone and awake with this knowledge. It doesn't make me happier. But it makes me at least feel in touch with reality.