Showing posts with label acceptance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label acceptance. Show all posts

Sunday, August 14, 2016

Post-Surgery And The Life I Used to Have.




This is difficult.  Post-surgery for frozen shoulder and minor rotator cuff tear and I'm feeling like hell.    It will take a long time to recover and regain full use of my left arm, and dammit but it hurts to type.  I almost decided to do an audio blog but not enough privacy the last couple of days to do that.  So I'll make this just a quick check-in.

I'm not sleeping, mostly getting up several times a night to move my arm, elbow... to alleviate what pain I can.  This is often a tearful process.  I don't know when the big crash will come, but it will.  A human being simply can't withstand not sleeping like this.  On Wednesday, then on Saturday... things will change and hopefully for the better.

Sleeping on my side after this kind of surgery isn't the best idea, and it creates a world of pain, swelling to an unhealthy level in my arm.  This became the catalyst for ordering one of those Tempur Pedic beds.  NOT the cheapest thing in the world, but a very necessary one at this point as the healing process is going to take a long time.  So be it.  It's adjustable so I can support the back of my legs and have the back of the bed upright to manage sleeping without being on my side.  Saturday, a Laz-boy chair will arrive, and mostly for the same purpose.  As it stands now my options are to sit straight/upright or lay in a flat bed.  Both options mean pain and swelling.  But hey, those recliners are awesome and it's not like it won't be fully enjoyed way beyond the shoulder healing.

I suppose at this point I'm just rambling, but everything I am is consumed with the pain and trying to work past it without taking the powerful pain killers I was given.  The side effects sucks, and that means I'm making damn sure to take them sparingly.  But either way, my point is basically that I'll be dealing with this for a while and probably not making a lot of sense when I post.

There most likely won't be daily entries for a while, but I will try my best.

Post-surgery with all it's unbelievable pain has opened up a part of me that I really would rather leave closed, shut away, and ignored.  That echo chamber of the past and present merging in unsettling ways rumbles below the surface, always, making itself known at the darkest of hours and experiences.  I find myself unsettled---not just my circumstances or thoughts.  In the wee hours, especially when awakened by the almost ceaseless pain, true anxiety sets in and grips me.  Most of the time I can overcome it and get past it's frightening messages.  But then there are times when it takes hold and I find myself incredibly vulnerable and needing a strong, positive presence to jerk me back into a brighter reality.  Things is... I have no such strong, positive presence.  Yeah.
What to do with that.

As you guys know, indifference has been my companion.  T's indifference rears it's true self amidst the pain that really feels as if it's going to rip me apart.  You see, the first part of knowing how to squash pain naturally is to avoid stress at all costs, because stress destroy's the body's own ability to send much-needed pain killers to it's needed location.  Over time, especially in the presence of AI disease and fibromyalgia.... the breakdown of this mechanism is swift and brutal, leaving me without any natural defenses.  This sucks.

I've been brought to tears by the sheer intensity and duration of this pain, and the fibro is in a massive flare-up now, adding wide-spread, diffuse pain to that of the post-surgical.  While it's nothing to brag about, I will admit that I've been brought to my knees by the force of it all, crying so hard I felt as if my head would explode.  Late at night, when it's at its worst T will simply get up, stand there... and say nothing, do nothing, offer nothing.  I've had to tell him it's best he stay away rather than bring that indifference to the already miserable situation.

It is times like this that I long for "home," whatever and wherever that is.  No one to reach out to, to plead to, or talk to.  Not a parent, sibling, or best friend.  No one.  It's only when either by exhaustion or prescription intervention does the pain lessen a little, just enough for my mind to bring forth an image of a healthy, happy, joyful, fulfilled and pain-free me.  When I fall asleep... it sometimes carries me into dreaming, those thoughts.

My arm is in a lot of pain at the moment, so I'm going to sign off.  I hope that each day with willpower and physical therapy.. and even the weaker moments when I allow myself the prescription help to relieve the pain... maybe I'll get stronger, better.  I have 3 days of PT this coming week... and I pray it's the start to real recovery.

I need this pain to stop.  I really do.

Hopefully I can post tomorrow.

PS... I was amazed at how many page views Where Fireflies Dream received.... gave me a smile.


Monday, July 25, 2016

It's About Time.



When I first began blogging it was for one specific reason--venting.  I needed a place where I could get things off my chest that were bothering me so I could get on with life without cumbersome emotions or baggage.  I had ONE blog at that time.  When things got tough, and they often were, I would visit my blog and unload to my heart's content, not giving a single iota to being politically correct or holding back out of some delusion that I somehow had to be 'polite' here.  The venting would ensue, fall upon the screen, and I would be left to bask in the aftermath of some seriously epic purging of thoughts, feelings, and more.  In the end I would usually go back and delete the long-winded and emotionally-charged entries, knowing I could do so now that some time had past.  That blog still exists and I still post in it as often as possible, and I named it "All Things Ephemeral" for a reason, even if that reason no longer exists.  Let me explain....

A few years ago I made the decision to stop deleting the entries.  Being honest with myself I realized that I was deleting so as not to 'hurt feelings' of those I vented about.  No matter that I left off names and details that would give much away to the wrong set of eyes reading, I decided it was somehow 'impolite' to share even my feelings and experiences.  Boy, was that ever stupid.  I'm glad I came to my senses and stopped editing the content over some perceived butthurt it may cause someone else.  But, did I really stop editing my own entries after all?  Well, today I figured it was something worth investigating.

I often come here and stare at the blank screen where bits of my life would fall and wonder... "How can I actually talk about this?"  I know as I write just how much I'm holding back, even when I don't WANT to.  Still, the struggle to set myself free remains just that--a struggle, even today.  Even when I know the healthiest thing I can do for myself is write about it, get it out of my system, it's remains incredibly difficult just the same.

What I want very much to do right now is to take the first step in 'going there,' to talk openly instead of using a string of allusions to piece together a story that, when all is said and done, remains unclear and ill-explained because of that fear below the surface of truth.

A Bold First Step

My next blog entry will be in This Free Spirit, and I tell you this because it will ultimately be the first blog entry in many years where I hold little if nothing back.  With failing health I need all the help I can get to break the bonds of emotional servitude, and the first step is to open myself completely to the idea of 'almost' full disclosure.

Wish me luck....


Tuesday, July 19, 2016

Dealing. Just dealing.




I've dealt with enough crap this morning to last a lifetime.  Unearthed is the truth, something I'll have to deal with one day at a time, one decision at a time.  After posting in This Free Spirit I've little left to say, as I'm spent emotionally.  Overall, I'm glad to have the benefit of the truth, even if it's not pretty.  Not being one to like my head in the sand I will just face what actually IS, rather than pretend all is well in my world.  It's just the reality of life.

Dealing with health issues, the indifference and lack of compassion from T, seeing a glimmer of what 'could' be once I'm well again... is a lot to process every day.  Maybe not so much for someone healthier, but it certainly is for me.  I suppose I can just say it's keeping me on my toes.

For the most part today I feel betrayed and stuck in a life that I'm not at all fitting into.  I miss MY life but accept that sacrifices are made with a relationship, be it marriage or something else.  The betrayal I refer to is that, once again, I've a situation where I'm with someone who pretended one thing and is actually another.  I don't like that at all.  He's not evil or abusive, so don't get me wrong.  But what he hid and the lies he told DO have an impact on life, especially mine.

For heaven's sake, why can't people just be HONEST about who they are?!

My morning was riddled with anxiety and stress, so I'm paying the price for that today with fatigue, discomfort, elevated pain level.... and just a dull feeling of sadness that is going to take some work to overcome.  It's not depression really, but more like heavy disappointment laced with anger.

My view of life is somewhat distorted as I spend the majority of my time alone.  I'm once again disconnected from the greater part of living--meaning the outside world.  Too sick to get out of the house, and in a place I've not been in but for a short time means... I don't know anyone.  It's a familiar situation, I'm afraid, and it's not my choice but more my circumstances.  But this disconnection does hinder the healing process, which isn't going well at all but actually getting worse.

Another day of dealing with what I already deal with, and also new challenges.

Well... till tomorrow......


Thursday, June 30, 2016

Well. Damn.



If there's anything that I'm NOT afraid of it's doctors and needles.  I don't mind a shot when necessary, and I don't mind blood work or IVs when needed.  However, one thing I discovered today is: I rather NOT okay with giving injections to myself.  And that, unfortunately, is what it's come to... at least right now.

So I saw my Endocrinologist today regarding my lab results for Cushings, Adrenal Fatigue, and... blood sugar issues.  The latter was a big concern because I ended up with Cushing's Syndrome while taking Prednisone, long-term (approximately 3 months).  My allergist stated flat-out that I would be lucky NOT to end up with Type II Diabetes due to my reaction to the Prednisone.  Lovely.  Especially given that my mom and oldest sister both had it (both deceased).

I have other health issues so the drug my doctor wanted me on can't be an option right now.  Lucky me, instead I get an injection... a treatment for Diabetes that's used for PRE-Diabetes/Insulin Resistance--which is where I'm at right now.  Damn.

Serum fasting glucose, Glucose Tolerance Test, AND serum Insulin were taken to assess IF I were in trouble and how badly.  My fasting INSULIN was double what it should have been, my fasting glucose was 111, and at one point... my fasting glucose (in the past few months) was 123.  I had NO idea about that 123 FG.  So here I am having to give myself a lovely injection in my abdomen (skin) once a week for 2 weeks to see if I need to continue that or not, long term, OR... if she's going to put me on another protocol.

The GOOD news is, at least on this one test, my adrenals are perfectly fine and right in the middle of the normal range.  She doesn't completely trust it so wants to test them again in 2 weeks to see where it is.  I also have to have my A1C tested again in a couple of weeks.

It's begun.

I'm NOT looking forward to giving myself an injection, even IF it's an automatic device and pre-loaded.  Just YUCK!!

I have hypOglycemia symptoms and have had those in the past.  I won't explain the process here of what happens BEFORE a person ends up diabetic, etc., because it's more time and energy than I have right now.  But hypOglycemia symptoms suck pretty bad.  Weakness, shaking, fatigue, cold sweats, headaches, etc.  What fun.  However, we're not exactly sure what's causing the chronic pain.  Endo says she also wonders about a myositis situation given the elevated Aldolase on a couple of occasions.  It's not elevated NOW, but I also was on prednisone and Imuran for 3 months, so that took care of any inflammation there might have been in my muscles.. causing muscle breakdown.

I don't know how anyone will ever be able to nail down the cause of the muscle pain after my having been on corticosteroids.  I just don't know.

Well, the pain is pretty severe so am going to sign off for now.  Wish me luck in the morning when I have to give myself my first injection.




Wednesday, June 29, 2016

The Blandness of Being.



I'm in pain.  A lot of pain.  Trying to think and write here is often too difficult, so... I choose to avoid nonsensical blathering when I can.  But then, I get a few emails or messages on FB asking if I'm okay, why am I not posting, etc.  When this happens I make sure to come here and at least put in an appearance.  As for catching up, well, not sure there's much to catch up on.  But I'll try.

I'm still waiting on lab results regarding my adrenals and blood sugar.  My BP goes very high, then... very low.  No way to treat that, and until we know if my adrenals are struggling we may not know what causes the crazy swings in BP.  It's said that those swings are more dangerous than constantly high BP.  Well, so what?  If you can't do anything about it then why bother worrying?

All there is right now is day by day assessment and trying not to plan anything in advance.  Do you hear the blandness?  I feel it.  I see it.  I live it.

What do I do all day then?  Well, I'm learning Spanish so work on that when I can.  I listen to music, watch Trump rallies, etc. on RSBN.  Well, I use the link from RSBN's web site to the youtube version so I can chat with some friends there and participate.  Not the most glamorous of lives, right?  It's okay... I'm still breathing, so there's that.

Then there's the insomnia.  I believe a lot of the blandness of being right now stems from not being able to sleep well at all.  I desperately need to get the surgery on my shoulder as it hurts badly all night long.  But I have to wait for the results on my adrenals and find out what needs to be done, if any, prior to and during surgery in order to avoid a dangerous adrenal crash while undergoing surgery.  Adrenal Crisis is life-threatening, so the surgeon isn't willing to do the surgery until I get clearance to get it, etc.  Fatigue will absolutely flatten a person out, especially when it's chronic... and... it drains the adrenals.

All in all, the stress has taken its toll.  It took its toll years ago when I was in a BADLY stressful relationship for 11 years.  The relationship was BADLY stressful---as much as the 11 yr one, only condensed into a shorter time frame.  And now it's very stressful but for very different reasons.  T at least is open-minded most of the time to what's needed to avoid the stressful situations.  However, he's not good at all with follow-through, and even in that there is stress.

I pray every day.  I ask God to just shorten this suffering--and yes, it is absolutely suffering.  Anyone who's had chronic pain knows what I'm talking about.  I try and go through my days as normally as I can, find stuff that makes me laugh, smile, or inspires hope.  Motivation is out of reach but at least I can see it in the distance.

For all practical purposes.... this is just life for me at the moment.  I will have a lot of catching up to do when I'm back to full-strength me.....



Saturday, June 18, 2016

Should I....???





It's been a 'musical' day for the most part, as it usually is when I'm having a bad day.  So much pain, what else is there?  Either music, or Spanish lessons.  And... decision-making.  Hmmmm.

So, silencing the music I wonder... of people who've either extracted themselves from my life.. or I booted them.  Either way, there are reasons for everything in life, for choosing to stick with the status quo, or... to create meaningful change and hope for the best.  As all life goes, everything is a risk.  Everything.

It's been my policy that once I'm an 'ex' I'm an ex.  I don't, and have never, seen any reason to stay even loosely inserted in someone's life when you've been rejected, or... when you've rejected them.  Sure, some people can become BFFs with their ex's.. that's fine for them.  But for me, the past is the past.  Not that there's been any exceptions to this rule--there have been.  There's been exactly 2 exceptions, and for good reason.  However, one person was a friend who, no matter how how I tried to forgive repeatedly, decided that his immersion into the 'occupy' movement... simply made him just this side of intolerable.  That's another story for another day---or perhaps not at all.

A discussion with a  friend of mine recently gave me a lot to think about.  Her life is vastly different from mine, which poses difficulty for her when it comes to giving me advice.  She doesn't get where I'm coming from at all most of the time, and that's okay.  We also don't share a deep friendship, and in  fact.. it's fairly superficial for the most part.  Only once a month, roughly, do we actually talk to one another, and we don't hang out ever.  That's okay too.

So, what she presented to me was basically this:  Why cut anyone out of your life?  On the surface it's a good question, but it lacks something vital.  The most important reason for cutting someone completely out of your life is that the relationship proved to be harmful in some way.  So with just that reason in mind... it just makes no sense to present the question in that way.  However, I added a little more to it, such as 'How much forgiveness is available given the circumstances and does that forgiveness translate into a 2nd, or even 3rd chance?'  Basically, maybe there's some merit to looking at each circumstance individually.  Maybe.

In the case of my 'occupy' friend I honestly don't know what to think.  We were the best of friends for over 12 years.  He lives in CA and even at that distance it never hindered our friendship a bit.  We watched movies together, which was often hilarious as we attempted to sync the DVD's and not react too quickly if we were slightly ahead of the other.  We shared EVERYTHING.  We expressed joy, anger, sadness, etc., and could talk for hours on the phone every day.  We helped each other when times were tough, and there wasn't a minute in a 24 hour period that was off-limits.  A 2am phone call or 4am phone call was always answered.  Not that we took advantage of that, but.. it was always a given that, should we need each other, that we could reach out and have someone right there on the other end of the line.

He lost his job of almost 20 years due to layoffs, and that's when everything went terribly wrong.  I suppose as he struggled to find his footing again (in Los Angeles) he found, instead, a group of people who became like family to him.  His mother & father is deceased, and his sister is, well... she's not the warmest of people and left him, literally, to drown in his own circumstances.  I wasn't able to help him financially, and he wasn't inclined to leave CA at that time... so his situation became even worse.  During this time he met with those involved in the occupy moment, and that... is where he lost himself.

Phone calls that used to be about life, living, music, humor, movies, songs he was writing (he's a musician), animals, etc... became all about occupy this or that.  Then... he got involved in the B L M moment, and the smart part of him that wasn't devoured by occupy was completely consumed by B L M... and he became a self-loathing 'white.'  Neither of us are racist, and so I'm not sure why he became lost, so completely and totally lost to a group that for every practical purpose devoured his soul and personality.

For about 4-5 years now I've spoken to him very little with the last phone call being last summer when I bought him a Vegan cookbook.  I never even heard a word back from him other than when I send him a message asking if he received it and he replied with... "Thanks."

His name on social networking sites has the word 'occupy' in it, and I guess it really represents what he's become.

I don't call him anymore, and now that it's election time... and he's a flaming liberal while I'm a conservative (converted after making the huge mistake of voting for Obama the first time)... we have even more animosity.  He was the one, in fact, that talked me into voting for Obama, and already having a deep dislike for a chronically triggered McCain... it was inevitable that I'd give in.  There was also the health care thing, something I desperately needed, but... that's not the only reason I regret that vote.  I was an independent, and now I'm not, so I'm 'gifted' with his presence on my FB on occasion as he bashes Trump, whom I'm supporting and have since the start.

"There are three things I never discuss with people; religion, politics, and the Great Pumpkin." -Linus

So is, was, my usual stance.  But my friend vomited horrible remarks on my FB page on a post in which I finally had to tell him the truth, the blunt truth that he's not the person I once knew and loved as a friend... but that if he resorted to spewing hate on my TL again.. I would block him. Period.  It's taken years to get to this point.

My friend with the advice... I made a decision to re-think my stance.  But as I told her... there are limits to what I'll endure.  Case by case basis seems reasonable.  I easily forgive, but I'm not one who easily forgets.

The days of my being a doormat for criticism, judgment and cruelty to enter my life is over.




Thursday, June 16, 2016

The Weirdness of Dreams.



I had my first lucid dream.  At least I think it was my first.  You know how dreams are... some of them you just can't remember.  But this one was pretty clear, and it had the usual recurring theme as my dreams tend to have, which has been the way of my dreams nearly my entire life.  There are basically 3 recurring themes, but I won't get into those now.  But as dreams go, this one was quite different then all the others.

The dream:

I was home, in 'my' room doing nothing but sitting quietly on the bed and looking out the window.  Clouds outside were very low, dark, broiling... and they shifted into what I recognized as a tornado (common theme in my dreams and not in the least scary, btw).  I jumped up and ran into the living room looking to see what damage there might be, can I yelled out to T that there was a tornado.

I could see the deck out back was damaged, the railing torn, and some trees, etc. were damaged.  I then walked into the breakfast nook area, and this is when I noticed the furniture was different, the room was different, and outside the breakfast nook window was another room.. instead of the deck and gorgeous view.

Once I realized everything was different I stopped, turned a little bit and told T... "Oh.  Never mind.  It's is just a dream." I then just looked around quickly, amused that I was dreaming.. then woke.

Weird.

And I don't mind weird at all, but... I felt in my dream, as I do after waking from an interesting or otherwise really good dream, rather.. disappointed.  Perhaps it was because I felt as if I had control of things in the dream, and much less so than in real life.

Whatever caused this lucid dream--I hope it happens again, because... I rather liked it.  Honestly, I wish I felt in real life the way I do in my dreams.  Why?  Because it's more like 'living.'



"You've chosen lessons of pain."



I received a message with this video in it yesterday.  I have no idea who the person is who sent it... but, oddly.. this is one of my favorite songs and one I listen to every night.  Headphones on, dark room, and songs to obliterate the thoughts....



Wednesday, June 15, 2016

Self-Preservation.



Why is it that, of late, I'm finding myself avoiding posting in my blogs?  I mean, yes.. I do sometimes go on at length, I know.  But for the most part I seem to wait till that part of the day when I least feel like talking, sharing, or even thinking.  And it's in THAT moment that I suddenly decide to post something.  It's just the oddest freaking thing, I have to say.

I wait till everything hurts.  I wait till I can no longer sit here like this, till I'm SO uncomfortable and in pain that I can't think straight.  Maybe, just maybe I'm avoiding actually talking.  Right?  Makes sense to me.  I'm an hour past tylenol and am still in avoidable, unmoving, unrelenting pain.  Yay.  NOT.

Sleep didn't come easily to me last night and when waking up under that onslaught I feel worse than ever.  I have an idea of what's causing the insomnia for the most part, and it's something I can avoid.  But then, sometimes the pain overrides all.  What else am I do to when nothing else works?  Side effects.  Joyful.

Still, I seek hope, motivation, and a passion for life that I know, that I MUST believe beyond everything, still exists somewhere within.  If I ever allowed myself to believe anything else I'd be in big, big trouble.  Granted, this wanting to believe isn't the same as actually believing.  I know this.  I get this.  I feel and know just how fragile this is and how susceptible it is to influence from outside.  That's the biggest problem here in finding my way---knowing that I'm up against the tidal wave of indifference radiating from T.  People who allow, or even choose to flip their internal switch to 'autopilot' are ignoring the consequences of their actions.  Why?  Well, my take on it is that it's just easier that way.  Relationships are work, but they're worth it if both parties carry their fare share of the responsibility.

Self-preservation has taken a firm hold on my life and me as a person.  I've been here before and recognize what it is I'm dealing with and know where this will ultimately lead.  My health being in a shambles right now is keeping me locked in place and shackled to a life that isn't mine, not even close to mine.  I don't recognize anything, and that.. is a very, very bad sign.  Still, I'm here... riding out the storm seeing no pause, no respite, no calm waters ahead.

Swim or drown?

That, really, is the ultimate question and one I have absolutely no answer to.  Not yet.

On to post in my other blogs.... I'll work my way through this today if it kills me....





Friday, June 10, 2016

The Fourth Child in Social Hierarchy PART II



In PART I... I spoke about the balance of power in relationships and the Beta male.  THIS time, I want to finish up with speaking a bit about the Alpha male and women who are either Alpha or Beta.  In the scope of relationships and that necessary balance of power I must also address the serious and fatal issues that arise from polarized power between the sexes and tie it in to my own experience.  So, let's get started.

I have to admit I was to write this entry immediately following the last.  However, I found myself getting rather caught up in Ian Somerhalder photos. lol  Now, he 'presents' as the typical Alpha in that he's confident, successful, but also possesses a huge heart and an abundance of compassion.  The Ian Somerhalder Foundation is all about.. animals.  You'll find hundreds and hundreds of photos of him on the web posing with both domestic and wild animals.  The fact that he's an animal lover is a huge clue to who he is as a man.

So is Ian an actual Alpha male?  Well, I wouldn't personally know because I don't KNOW him.  But usually what comes to mind, whether you're male or female, is an image that represents "Alpha."  For some it may be the image of actors who played James Bond.  For others, such as me, it can be someone else entirely.  But when we look back at our history and interactions with various people it's pretty easy to see who's what.

It's not about a pretty fact, btw.  In fact, many Alphas aren't classically good looking at all.  We just find there's something about them....

You'll find opinions everywhere as to what an Alpha actually is.  Some believe that Alpha women are the best because, like their male counterparts, they're successful, confident, etc.  But this really, from a psychological standpoint, is a lot more complicated when it comes to females.  Ever meet a 'Feminist'?  Yeah.  Need I say more?  This isn't always the representation, but it often is.  Not all confident Alpha women make 6 figures per year and own yachts.  Many, if not most, are just ordinary people.

Life experiences affect who we are, which can make or break a woman down to her lowest common denominator.  This, though, is entirely out of the spectrum we want to stay in here.  So, we won't be addressing the minutia of the human psyche and its effects on us as individuals.

The Balance of Power And Sustainability in Relationships:

There's is where I'm going to keep it REALLY simple.  99% of successful relationships have both a male role and a female role---and an Alpha and Beta role.  You have no idea how very important this is.  So let's put it in perspective, in real life situations.

We've all seen enough movies to have seen this Alpha/Beta thing in action.  Fiction does have its components based on actual reality--otherwise there wouldn't be anything to sustain our interest.  If we can't connect in some human way with what we see and hear... we become bored.  This isn't always something we're acutely aware of, btw.

Let's take things OUT of the movies and go straight to the core of the problem.  In every relationship that works there's a male & female role in which Alpha & Beta personality traits are in play.  Again, I'm focusing mostly on the guy's role here for the sake of this discussion.  However, let's also back it down, since we already know what an Alpha & Beta is, and keep it to 'feminine' and 'masculine' traits, because the latter is far easier to recognize.

Whether a heterosexual relationship or gay relationship--it's still the same.  Every relationship has both a male and female component.  We're strictly speaking of straight couples here in this discussion, btw.

Female or Feminine TRAIT situations:

Honestly, this is the worst situation of all, because there is this lack of initiative on the guy's part.  Most women, of course, have feminine traits.  This is problematic because they're both in the mode of waiting for the Alpha to step up, step in, and take charge.  In these situations... it just never happens and ultimately ends up in complete failure.  Both parties are waiting for the other to literally take charge of the situation, whatever that situation is.  If the situation is sex--there's usually BIG trouble.

Beta males, as opposed to Alpha males, tend to sit back and wait for the woman to orchestrate life and, oddly, he ends up resenting her for it later.  When this happens it makes the relationship and everything in it, including sex, extremely awkward.  To say the least.

Most times the tell-tell signs are there, but they're not actually recognized for what they are until it's too late.

Beta males will:

Expect you to initiate sex 99% of the time, and expect more 'receiving' than giving.  More times than not there is they have this sense of entitlement where you're concerned, as well as a sense of expectation without provocation.  In other words, a Beta male is inherently going to expect you to initiate sex, jump through hoops to please him right off the bat, right from the start, and pretty much 99% of the time.  Over time his female counterpart will lose interest in sex with him and begin to pull away.

Eventually, that woman he's with will begin noticing other men, Alpha men.  Again, this is just nature and a fact of life.

This also holds true with the other scenario, that in which both have 'male' or 'dominance' traits.  This is also a disaster because both sides are always vying for power and control.  This second situation I won't go into much because it's outside the scope of this conversation.

When the balance of power is in its rightful place things tend to go smoothly between two people.  If the man is dominant/Alpha he compliments the female role of his partner.  If the woman is the Alpha or 'dominant' role and she's with a guy who just so happens to be a Beta... it just may work out because he wants someone to take care of his needs and, well, isn't willing to initiate himself into any given role or circumstance.

Girly Girls Love Manly Men:

It's kind of how the human race survived.  I don't think I need to go into all of that, because I think you get the picture.

The bottom line is that it's very difficult to be in a relationship with Beta males.  I'm girly to the core and find situations where I'm expected to assume the masculine role EXTREMELY awkward and uncomfortable.  And when it comes to sex in such a situation--it's a major turn-off for me.  Been there, done that.  Ugh.  And, I'm rather in that situation now.  But for the possibility that reason can lead to understanding on his part, meaning.... he really has to come to terms with a LOT and find ways past or around those things.  Otherwise, this situation is doomed.

It takes a mountain of humor to see myself through this, I have to say. I'm not completely confident that it will be resolved, and I'm not exactly sure right now how to manage remaining in this relationship given the outright upset in the balance of power.  And THIS, my friends, is where The Fourth Child comes in.

We've come full circle back to me and my situation.  Even though they did eventually end, the most enjoyable, exciting, and FUN relationships I've had in my life were the ones where I was with the ultimate Alpha male.  The best lasted 11 years until he went full-blown mid-life-crisis mode.  There just isn't any way to save someone from themselves when they head willingly down that path.  He passed away about a year after we broke up, but he was in full MLC swing from what I heard.  But for the better part of 11 years, until his MLC became a relationship wrecking ball, it was pretty awesome.

I've been in relationships with 3 Betas in my life, and not one of those was anything to brag about.  True to my nature I hoped it was a simple matter of respect, or lack thereof.  But as it turned out it was far more than that and something that couldn't be fixed in the short term.  Not my job to 'fix' anyone and I won't waste the energy trying to.

I'm not a psychologist or expert on anything.  My take on all of this is from YEARS of reading books and gathering information from psychology journals and research papers online, and a little of what I obtained in my psych classes in college.  My experiences fall in line with what I've read.

As my life is now I feel as if I'm living with someone who's very much like a child.  He's not a child in his work, because he's very successful.  But when it comes to everyday life it's another matter, and at this point it's risky for me due to my health and physical limitations.  I feel vulnerable and am having a nearly impossible time trying to feel any confidence in this.  The vulnerability stems from my failing health, for the most part.  It's scary knowing that you have to depend so much and count on someone who is NOT the type of person to care this way for another.  Very, very scary.  I've been in a similar circumstance and felt the same vulnerability, the same anxiety, the same exact lack of confidence in both the situation and the person.

Every day that I wake into this life I'm met with yet more reminders of how blatantly awkward and exhausting this whole thing is.  Does he know how I feel?  He absolutely does.  Has it helped?  Not in the least.  The more this fails the scarier for me it becomes, which makes getting my health back absolutely necessary, vital, critical...

The first time I learned about the whole 'Beta male' thing was when I lived in Colorado, some 20+ years ago.  I found it curious and interesting and thought such information would serve me over time.  I didn't count on my own lack of ability to immediately identify such traits, or perhaps.. my inability to recognize I may have been overlooking them on purpose.  But I chose to read a lot of books over the years, off and on, and often by chance, and yet to this day I still don't SEE the writing on the wall until after it's too late.  Not my life's finest accomplishments, I have to admit.

While I mostly write to get things off my chest, out of my system, I also write in hopes of helping others.  Maybe I'll spare someone the hassle of a relationship where there's just a coupling of opposing forces.

In retrospect I see evidence that I didn't recognize at the time.... one in particular...

As I lay next to him, exhausted, and not in a good way I thought to myself... "We can't both be the girl in this relationship."




Wednesday, June 8, 2016

Anger? Surprise? Inspiration at its worst? WTH?



Sometimes I get a spark of something that inspires me.  Such inspiration doesn't always present itself in the best way, though, but I usually try to go with it when it happens.  Such gems shouldn't be taken for granted but taken advantage of.  It really is that rare.

In the midst of fighting for every drop of energy that can be found wherever it is I can find it, a tiny burst will make its way into the day and nudge me.  Okay, I can certainly deal with that.  Wish there were MORE of it, but I'll take what I can get and go with it nonetheless.

The fuel for this little 'fire' isn't from a good source, definitely not a positive force, and most definitely not from a pleasant source.  Be that as it may, there it is... kind of like when your dog has an accident and you're left looking at it wondering to yourself what you did to deserve such a... 'gift'? lol  Okay, okay... enough with lame attempts at comedy.  Even so, the conversation with a friend of mine earlier today was what ignited this whatever-it-is and sent me on a journey to try and put my thoughts in order.  I found the results of that rather.. lacking.

All this blabbering, to be honest, is just my working through it all.  Not the conversation, because that was interesting and creatively invigorating.  But the chaos I'm dealing within the thought process at the moment is simply trying to pull together the shards of data that's left from past experience.  Anyone who understands this knows where I'm coming from.  G knows.  She gets it.  And, from what I read on her blog(s)... she's been able to run with it without tripping like a clown every step of the way that I've been.  Eh.  I'm still confident that this purging will eliminate the chaff and reveal the good stuff.  I'll be back to discuss that when it happens.




Tuesday, April 19, 2016

Home.




One thing I've known for certain for pretty much all of my life is that when I'm ill, I long for home.  When I was little I knew where that place was, and despite its terrible flaws it was still home.  As an adult I was surprised to find that I no longer knew exactly where home was.  So I would spend the majority of my adult life longing for a place that quite possibly, for me anyway, doesn't exist.  I've never been able to reconcile this; not physically, and certainly not emotionally.

The closest I've come to being "Home" once moving out of my mom's house at 18 is Mobile, AL.  I had a tiny little apartment, and though not every moment there was perfect, it felt safe, and it felt like a warn welcome every time I walked through the door--no matter how good or bad things were.  It was a safe place for me to be myself, where I could decompress, where I could dream, wish, hope and feel alive.  This is not the case where I am now.  Not even close.

How did I get here?  I got here the same way I got into every bad situation in my life; By pure blind trust.  It's a flaw of mine and one that's gotten me into more trouble than I can tell you.  I give people the benefit of the doubt, take them on their word, and actually believe what they say.  Well, to a point anyway.  The thing is, that 'point' in which I pivot and see the error of my ways is usually far too late to avoid any damage to my life, and to me.

I'll probably always be this way, a far too trusting person.  I'm okay with that, I guess.  But I really wish I were better at assessing and discerning the heart and motives of people BEFORE I get involved.  We all have our flaws, I suppose.

As I wait for the sluggish process of diagnosis beyond the AIH, I'm left far too vulnerable for my liking.  There are days I can't walk well, verging on not at all, and days where lifting my arms to look at my phone is almost too much.  The weakness grows more each day and the doctors I need to see are weeks out of reach since I'll be a new patient.  The waiting is going to end me in the ER at some point, I'm afraid.  But the worst of this is being this sick and living in a place where I know absolutely no one at all.

T only helps around here bare minimum, and as the chores, etc. pile up... I long for the simplicity of the life I had in Mobile, where I didn't have to clean up after another human who refuses to do what's necessary to not live in a dirty, cluttered house.  I can't live this way, so I struggle to pick up the slack.  And I'll tell you, the slack is far far more than what T actually does.

How the hell did he survive on his own?

I have to somehow find my way home--wherever that is.  I know I can keep struggling a little bit to find my way here, to at least hang in there until I'm better---or at least better enough to survive, to move, to do something to help myself.  At this rate I don't know if I can work, which scares that crap out of me.  Disability requires a definite diagnosis, and at this time I don't have one that explains fully how I'm continuing to weaken and become more and more sick.  What can I do if even typing an entry like this makes me shaky and nauseated with weakness?

I want to be well again, to feel good again, to have energy again.  I want to be in a position where I can find my way back home again.

Home.  I just want to be... home.

Thursday, April 7, 2016

MIA



The last several days have been fraught with a fatigue and weakness unlike anything I've ever known.  Basically, for the last several days I've been pretty much bedridden, only able to sit up for a VERY short period of time.  Painful, tired, and weak, I spent what little time I was awake researching if there was a medication I was taking that could be doing this.  What I found was across the board complaints about every drug I'm on.  Narrowing things down to a time frame when I began getting worse I found that cessation of Prednisone and AZA kicking in were likely the culprits.  Here is where things get tricky...

Prednisone and immunosuppressants are the go-to protocols for nearly all autoimmune diseases.  At the highest dosage of 40mg/day I felt amazingly well, energetic, and somewhat strong again.  It was about as close to 'normal' I've felt in years.  With the first taper I began to feel badly again, but eventually had to come off with a slower taper which ended about a week ago.  AZA (Imuran) was added along the way and is something one is kept on long-term to stave off flares of the disease, in my case autoimmune hepatitis -- don't confuse this with visual hepatitis (hep C for example).  This is an autoimmune situation in which my immune system thinks my liver is a foreign body that needs, well, killed off.  Overlapping AI disease is also suspected here, but symptoms cross over and overlap to the point where it's difficult to tell what else is going on.  Myositis or Sarcoidosis are suspects here given my aldolase was highly elevated more than once, even on the medications.  It is within normal range since taking the imuran in higher doses.

FAST FORWARD...

I don't know which is causing this horrid weakness and fatigue, and other symptoms as well, so I opted to call the doctor to TELL him I'm stopping the AZA for a time to see if that's the culprit.  His response was agreement, BUT he wanted me to restart the Prednisone at 60mg per day!  I told the nurse on the phone, who relayed the message to me, that I wasn't going back on prednisone because the side effects were intolerable and it causes so much weight gain, which I've just now begun to lose.  I'm not going back.  She said she would relay the message to the Dr.  I have an appt with him next week and know I'm going to have to give push-back because I'm UNWILLING to take prednisone again.

I've just stopped the AZA yesterday and am not doing well as I'm still weak, fatigued, and wanting to sleep most of the day.  I have a feeling some of this will improve as the AZA leaves my body.

I know the risks.  I know and accept that I could have a big flare of AIH and my liver could be damaged because of it.  But here's the thing: I have to wage longevity with quality of life, and in doing so have come to the conclusion that I simply can't have both.  I'm choosing quality over quantity.

And hey, for all I know it could take a couple of years before I have a flare again.  But as for any other AI disease going on, be it Myositis or Sarcoidosis, no one has given another diagnosis as of yet so there's little reason for me to worry about those possibilities.  Having been on the treatment protocol for those, because it's the same as AIH, it's going to be tough trying to diagnose either due to my taking prednisone and AZA for this long.  Even so, all I can do is see how it goes moving forward.

I'm actually quite surprised that I can event type, because the last several days I've barely been able to hold up my iPhone while laying in bed due to the weakness.  You've no idea how bad the weakness is.

Another thing I have to deal with, which I'm not sure is a bad thing, is the loss of appetite.  I mean, I've gone back to FEELING that I need to eat, where my body gives physical signals that I may need nutrition but don't have actual HUNGER.  Also, this is the third day where it's not just a lack of hunger but also very early satiety.  I've been taking in less than 1,000 calories a day, which I will pay for dearly if I'm not careful, especially if I'm dealing with Myositis.  But that's another talk show.

So for now just know I have to play it by ear and see how I feel, because I may not be able to post here every day---though I do hope I can because that means I'm either feeling better or one tough chick for posting when I feel like I'm going to fall off the chair any moment. ;p  C'mon.. that was funny.  See?  My sense of humor shows up every now and then.

How am I managing through all of this?.... well, I have to admit that's a whole other talk show....


Thursday, March 31, 2016

This Journey



It's incredibly hard to type these days--to do anything really.  I'm completely off the prednisone as of yesterday, so now I wait to see what comes when my adrenals have to go it alone without the assistance of that drug.  We'll see.

I sleep so much these days.  I toss and turn at night because of the pain in my body, sleeping sporadically and not deeply.  Tylenol has become my best friend again, though I know I have to adhere strictly to not going over the dosage etc.  But it's a necessary evil.  Early morning, when I'm able to take another dose, I wait for the pain to subside enough to allow me to fall back asleep and, hopefully, catch up on what sleep I did miss.  Still, in the morning when I rise... the weakness, the aching is there--always there.

Getting out of bed, getting dressed, finding my way to the kitchen, dining room... is not the easiest tasks these days and is worse as the prednisone comes out of my system.  My legs, arms, hands, they all shake until I have enough food or coffee in my system.  This is, I believe, another symptom of tapering from prednisone, as it greatly affects blood sugar; high when on it, drops when off.  It's just one more monster I have to defeat.

The prednisone weight is another issue but one that is, honestly, not nearly as important and FEELING better.  I'll be able to take the weight off when my adrenals aren't fatigued anymore, and I'm good with that. I have to be good with that.  But this horrible weakness and fatigue--it's so hard to handle, so hard to live with.  Hell, I'm really not living at all but simply--surviving.

I sleep so much.

I'm sleepy now.  I wanted to go right back to bed but got up too late to make that even remotely possible.  Plus, if I give in to sleeping all day long... I won't have an easy time coming out of that.  Prednisone cessation, after having been on high doses and on a long time, can also bring on depression.  Maybe this is what that is, all this sleeping.  Can't take anything for it even so because of the Eliquis.  Will have to just ride this out and pray it ends soon--very soon.

I want to live again.  Be happy again.  Thrive again.  I want my passion for life back so badly.

I'm so sleepy, so tired.



Wednesday, March 23, 2016

I can hear it in my dreams.



What was.  What should be.  What was lost.  What is.  An unsettling representation of what I'd rather not think about, a rejected idea of what life is supposed to be.

I sometimes see images online, hear stories from people, stories that pique my curiosity in that I see and hear I can't connect with in any real way.  "So this is life?" is the outcome, the question that remains unanswered but accepted just the same.  My reality, my life doesn't in any way reflect what I see out there in the world.  This kind of thinking only leads to a pointless series of "What if?" scenarios that didn't, nor will ever, ever happen in what remains of my lifetime.  Such a useless response, isn't it?  I definitely think so.

I've gotten to where I really hate dreaming.  I hate waking up from them even more, to be honest.  Again, I find them completely useless.

Damn.  When will the clouds lift?


Monday, March 21, 2016

Twilight--my favorite time of day.







It's a small part of the day and one you may miss if you blink.  Stay awake.  Just stay awake.

Almost the entirety of my escape processes include music, where the fabric of reality and the fantasy of reclaiming a life I once had clash in, sometimes, startling and colorful ways.  I don't delude myself into thinking that I don't know what really is or isn't; who cares?

Falling asleep listening to carefully constructed playlist is the only oasis I know.  While some songs grant me enough peace to fall asleep others wake me, and it's the message rushing to the forefront of those that bring me out of my slumber that are the most unsettling, the most telling.  I sometimes think of those moments as my subconscious crying out for help, that the sleeping soul and the wakeful spirit will be one again.

Creativity sleeps.  Dreams are too distant to remember.  Hope sits quietly beside me, distant and unmoved.  Memories are places my conscious mind tries to take up residence when I'm unable to sleep and surrender to what smothers my soul.  The abyss is real, and the truth looks down and recognizes its reflection in the darkness.  It's not as grim as it appears on the surface.

I no longer try to make my conscious and subconscious shake hands and call a truce.  The battle is a quiet one below the surface....


Friday, March 18, 2016

The Handshake.


A relationship is like a handshake.  One person extends their hand and the other extends theirs in acceptance.  This is the best case scenario, however, and relationships leave one person waving their hand in the air and feeling foolish.  At some point that dance just doesn't work anymore and we have to decide wether it's all worth it or not.  But how do we know WHEN it's time to place our hand back in our pocket and walk away?

There's no difference in friendships and we've all seen those fail miserably due to one-sided participation.  It's not usually an instant fail, btw, and we come to the conclusion to walk away after a lot of energy is spent trying to be the one acquiescing, initiating, or taking the blame for the short-comings within the relationship machine.

So if we know how it works in friendships, why do we take so damn long with romantic relationships?  I think part of it is that there's a much larger prize at stake when it comes to that kind of connection that leaves you ultimately vulnerable and exposed.  That other person, unlike a friend (usually) has seen you literally at your worst, your best, naked, knows most if not all of your secrets, and the love and affection that ties it all together is not that easy to break.  In most cases.  Either way, there's just a lot at stake when talking romantic relationships vs friendships.

Friendships do last longer.  And if you think about it, it's most likely because you're not living with that person or trying to divvy up responsibilities, not relying on that person when it comes to the hard times.  I mean, yes, there is some of that, but again.... you just can't compare the two.  There is an exception, however, to this rule, and that is that we actually can apply what we are willing to put up with when it comes to carrying the load of that relationship.

I don't care about the numbers, myself.  Wether you call it 50/50 or 100/100 it still requires both sides to assess what's what and decide a compromise when one side is no longer able to carry the larger portion of the load.

My point here is this: At some point we have to acknowledge when something is harming us, wether it's physical or emotional harm, be it stress or overt abuse, we absolutely HAVE to make a decision at some point while we still have enough of ourselves left, before any real long-term damage is done.

Every day I'm reminded of how much I have to carry, what I'm left to be responsible for, and just how little energy and strength I have to take that on.  Physically I grow weaker each day.  My specialist has upped the Azathioprine about as high as I can take it, and I'm waiting to see if/when this begins to pivot the illness and begin to heal what's wrong.  In the meantime I'm extremely weak, often sick (nausea, etc.), and I have to lay down in bed several times a day now.  This means little gets done because I'm not able to do it myself.  Simple things, really.  Chores that I could handle easily back when I was healthy, living alone and with many more time-consuming responsibilities.  The difference between he and I is that I did what needed to be done and was glad to do it.  I can't live in a dirty or nasty environment so fight my way through the day trying to do what little I can.

I'm so so so done with this.

And since the communication is one-sided (out of his laziness. No joke there.) I'm beyond exhausted. I'm back to my focus being on ONE thing and ONE thing only--getting well.  I will be well enough to take my life back when the time comes and he's going to find himself in the dust when it happens.  It's his own doing, and he's not going to be happy about it when it happens, I promise.  He's been warned of this, and he's coasting along like he can't see it happening already.  But it is, happening already....



Thursday, February 25, 2016

The Similarities of Day to Day Life.



Or shall we call it "A life of perpetual sameness"?  Either way, I'm going to make damn sure I change this.  I have to.

I've posted enough here for you guys to know where I am at the moment.  Dealing with communication and respect issues from T, issues that make themselves known every day and every night without fail.  You also know by now that my tolerance for this is extremely thin, verging on non-existent.  Notwithstanding innocent goof and human blunders, somewhere in the chaos one has to actually SEE the damage being done.  "I" see the damage because I'm a recipient of most of it, but T sits quietly on the river "Denial" and refuses to move.  Ok.  Whatever.

He doesn't like my bluntness and doesn't want me to say aloud the truth that threatens not only to completely destroy this relationship, but the truth that's destroying my peace of mind, health, and happiness.  He's in blissful ignorance, so I don't have any choice other than to say exactly what's on my mind.

When I'm trying to open a discussion, when I need to point out behaviors in someone that TRULY need addressing, I use non-combative phrases.  I speak of how I feel, what the harmful behavior is, but I don't point fingers, name-call, label, etc., because that approach causes damage as well.  I know how to communicate, as long as people allow me to communicate.

Repeatedly disrespecting me is a huge deal and would be for pretty much anyone.  Not allowing anyone to disrespect me was a lesson only recently learned, so I'm still a little awkward with it and finding my balance and strength when approaching the subject.  I'm getting there.  Now, in the process I've become fairly blunt when I've taken all I can, and all PC is out the window.  I speak my mind now while doing my best to preserve the other person's (in this case T) self-esteem.  I've no interest in becoming what I most despise so won't allow myself to go there.

T believes that when I point out what he does that hurts, offends, and disrespects me.. that it's a form of disrespect and that I shouldn't say anything at all.  But I assure you, that approach NEVER works and is, in fact, quite harmful to relationships and the individuals.  If I shove down my feelings, ignore the disrespect, and take the punches in silence... I will eventually resent that person, and that person right now is T.  No matter how I try to explain this--he doesn't get it and shows no indication of trying to understand or stop the disrespectful behavior.

Again, as I've said many times before, I'm not trying to make T out as a bad guy or to demonize him. He's NOT a bad guy--he's just blind to the things he does and doesn't do that greatly and adversely affect me in so many ways.  I hang in there for the obvious reasons, and I do so because I hold hope very close, hope that he'll see what he's doing so it can be stopped.

I may be a bit foolish for relying on hope this way given my past experiences and hope-filled failures.  But there's no reason NOT to hope.  In fact, hope is the great buffer of all things, isn't it?  Life tends to slip apart when hope is lost.

Damage control: There's been a lot of this with most being unsuccessful.  And I'm no stranger to damage control given past relationships that left me holding the weight of fixing everything.  One person CANNOT fix a relationship, nor can one person break it.  If a relationship is going bad, guaranteed there are TWO people at fault, even if it's the behavior of one and the acceptance of that behavior by the other.  It takes two people to break a relationship and two to repair it; an absolute truth.

Sometimes there are victims, yes, but 'most' victims are willing.  Meaning, when you have a way out of a bad situation and don't get on board with preparing things, and if you stay and suffer the damaging consequences.. then you've willingly participated in that damage.

As for me, I was a willing victim.  I played the martyr in love more times than I like to admit.  My role in a past relationship which did a LOT of damage to my self-esteem, body, etc. I take full responsibility for.  I remained in a bad situation, and though I believed that he and I could fix things I refused to see and acknowledge (for far too long) that the weight of that burden was planted fully on me.  I should've left at the first sign of serious problems.

I should have bailed when the relationship began changing the way I saw myself, how I thought of myself, when it began to depress me and fill my entire world with anxiety.  I should have been my own best friend and stood up for ME.  Instead, I did everything I possibly could to change into the distorted version he wished me to become.  It doesn't take a genius to understand that my acceptance of abuses, be they emotional or physical, would nearly destroy me as a person; I get it NOW, but I didn't get it THEN, not until it was too late and the damage was done.

I had to forgive myself more than the other person, because it was ME who let myself down.  I didn't have my own back, and I allowed everything till nearly the end.  It wasn't until I had a TIA and ended up in the hospital (very shortly after the last blow up) did I realize to what degree I'd been beaten up inside and how it had shattered me.

In the hospital the doctors asked about my level of stress, had I been dealing with major life changes such as a death in the family, financial hardship, and/or a breakup.  That was the first time the lightbulb went on and I began to introspect as I lay in that hospital bed with nothing but the hum of the heater to interfere with what came to me.  The realization was harsh, brazen, and shattering in its truth.  I had to get out of the relationship; I had to let go; and I had to do it to save my life.

This wasn't a comfortable awareness when it came blazing out of the deep recesses in which unpleasant things go to smolder.  But there was nothing I could do, really, but allow it into the light and face what it was, what I'd always known but refused to acknowledge.

So the burning question for most people at this point, after hearing/reading about my experience, the question everyone I knew at the time had is: Why the hell did I stay so long?  I stayed because I was in love with him.  Isn't that why any of us stay in bad or toxic relationships, because of our feelings and our sometimes misguided hopes that he/she will change?

I wouldn't find out until much later, until it was far too late and the damage was taking over my life and destroying happiness, that the person I fell in love with didn't really exist.  If you've read my blogs for a while you've heard me say this, and that's because the realization that I fell in love with a lie is profound and one I struggle with today for obvious reasons: You can't say goodbye to someone who doesn't exist.

The mask slipped and I discovered the truth beneath.

To this day everything about me struggles to reconcile who I thought I loved with who I was actually dealing with.

I believe that this problem of irreconcilable truths, for me, is fanning the flames of what's happening in the current relationship.  While I knew this was a possibility there wasn't any reasonable way to prepare for the experience itself.  On one hand being protective is necessary, but on the other hand.. always being poised in defense isn't a good idea either.

This emotional struggle could end with closure; something I will never have.  I can't say goodbye to someone who never existed, now can I?

Yeah... and therein lies the biggest problem of all.  This fight, this struggle permeates day to day life.  T's disrespect, whether purposeful or accidental permeates day to day life.  Health problems worsen and take over day to day life.  There seems to be no end to this....


Wednesday, February 24, 2016

Write. Read. Delete. Repeat.



Such is the case in this blog and always has been.  This is the place where I have exposed my heart of hearts, my spirt, and my soul.  When I dare to be blunt about the thoughts in my head or the feelings I have those entries here are often deleted.  Not always, but sometimes.  I guess you might wonder why that is.  I suppose if you reach for something and get your hand slapped enough times.. you stop reaching; at least that's what I did.

Pouring my heart out used to be easy for me.  With all my emotions on my sleeve (most of the time) I was an open book.  Hiding my emotions wasn't something I did across the board but under the proper circumstances, and with utmost care.  However, one of the relationships I was in taught me to mistrust, to close and lock-down my feelings to where I no longer felt safe expressing them.  Eventually, I would learn to not allow anyone to even know I had blogs, much less give them the url's so they could read them.

Mistrust is quite powerful.

I long to be that open and trusting again, and perhaps I will get there if I keep trying.  In the meantime I hold back, and I hold back a lot.  There's so much to say and share here, but I have to UN-LEARN a learned behavior, and I've not yet figured out just how to do that.

In a perfect world I could pour all of my experiences, thoughts, dreams, wishes, rants and ravings upon these virtual pages and go on about my business.  In a perfect world.

I'm going to find a way to fix this...

So much for strong suggestions

ME22 & NE23.  NEFL Eagle cam. Screen shot and photomanipulation by me. Copyright American Eagle Foundation. My physical jour...