Thoughts, Scattered.

I'm assuming the title doesn't require explanation... ;)

What if...

What if I said I wanted to pour my heart and soul out to you?  What if I could, even for a very short time, find such trust that nothing, absolutely nothing would be off limits in what I could share?  What if I didn't hold back, didn't keep my entire heart's secrets walled off from the rest of me, and expose every one in such detail that it took your breath away?  What if... I told you a secret you'd never forget, no matter how hard you tried?

What if you could be surprised at the stories I hold inside?

What if I told you that I've never trusted a soul 100% in my life but that I'm willing to now?

What would you ask me if you could ask me anything?

What if I told you that you'd be surprised at who I'm talking to, and would you want it to be you?

Seven Days.

It's an important number to me.  Every 7 days my dosage of prednisone decreases.  While I'm tapering from this extremely powerful drug I experience many unwanted side-effects, much of which I can't differentiate from AIH symptoms.  At 5mg/week my body became my worst enemy, leaving me unable to walk from the living room to the kitchen, making it difficult to walk the very short distance from the room I have to sleep in now to the nearby bathroom.  From unshakable episodes of freezing to feeling as if my body is going to melt into a puddle, I never know from one minute to the next what I'll be dealing with.  The turning point for me a few days ago was waking up before the sun in the throes of a migraine.

Tapering 5mg/week was simply not going to work.

Another call to the dr. and I'm told to go back up to 7.5mg and taper down at 2.5mg/week.  The morning of the migraine I discovered that with that 5mg dosage the migraine would go away, and it was that same evening that I added the additional 2.5mg.  While this seems like numbers and boring, dry information, I promise it's much, much more than that.  My entire quality of life depends on a tiny little pill that had the ability to make or break my life in every way.

On one hand it's a life-saver, and on the other it's dangerous as hell.  It's the drug people with AI diseases love to hate.

The usual thinking on getting off prednisone is to slow the taper the lower the dosage gets.  I'm unsure if I will be able to go down to the 5mg again, but I'll certainly find out next Wednesday.  Just how I'll find out is yet to be seen.  Will I feel better?  Will I feel worse?  Will there be debilitating symptoms again?  Or will everything go smoothly?

Without answers I can't make plans.  With each day being a giant mystery that unfolds one minute, one hour, one symptom (or lack of) at a time I am no longer really in control of my life anymore.  Prednisone now determines everything---basically, it's made me its bitch.

I can be honest about this.  I have to be honest about this.  I'm willing to face this head-on even if it means I'm the recipient, on occasion, of a TKO by a drug that is supposed to save my life.  I'll get up, face another day (albeit at times unwillingly), and keep going.

All of the above has affected my life.  Okay, I accept that.  What I don't like at this time is no support network, no one listening (not including who reads here) when I really need to talk.  If I could just feel good, be without pain, lead an normal life, I can handle the other stuff.

In the meantime I'm ticking down the hours in those 7 days to reach toward that goal of being off a drug that whispers it will save me, while making me feel as if I'm dying.

Seven days at a time... we'll see where I will be when I'm finally free of the prednisone shackles.

We will see...

Just Not Going to Worry About it.

I'm not talking about the recent findings on my labs.  Since it points to kidney issues but doesn't have any proof of such (imaging, etc), and since the 'damage' showing in the labs COULD very well be due to Prednisone and/or Aza (Azathioprine), then I'm just going to choose not to worry about it.  I mean, it's not going to help anything if I worry, so why bother?  I can choose to focus on what I do know for sure, as opposed to focusing on what MAY BE.  I choose the latter.

Since a couple of you asked, I thought I would just give you the basics, in case you're curious.  As of my last lab results, of which I received the copies at the beginning of this week, it shows I have Stage 2 CKD.  Now, one reason I'm not worrying about this too much is because the findings are an estimate based on weight, height, gender, and several lab values.  It's NO guarantee that I have CKD, when it very well could be AKI or ACUTE Kidney Injury, and possibly due to some other factor.  In order for CKD to be a diagnosis, one has to have those elevated labs and ratio numbers for at least 3 months.  For all I know, the next time I get the labs done.. everything could very well be right within the normal range.

Oh, and if you don't know what CKD is---Chronic Kidney Disease.  This can be completely idiopathic, or it could have a direct and verifiable cause.  Since I don't know if I'm in CKD or if I'm experiencing AKI... I have to wait.  So why not wait it out until I know?  Right?  This makes the most sense to me.

Here's a little information in a screen shot:  This is pretty much the given belief in the medical community, and though it's rather like a waiting game, it's important to know for sure what's going on and why.  This also causes some doctors to take the stance that waiting is not the best idea because once the damage is done, it's irreversible and can cause major problems for the heart.

Like any other major medical problem, early detection and treatment provides the best outcome.  Thing is, deciding something is indeed a major medical problem should be done with certainty.  I guess it's a damned if you do and damned if you don't scenario.  Still, I think waiting may not be the worst idea.

I've seen changes with kidney function in my labs before, and the numbers have been creeping towards this for a few months now.  I also suspect that if my doctor's suspicions are correct and I do have Myositis.. the destruction of muscle tissue and protein breakdown may affect kidney function values; this is me guessing, of course, and one reason I'm leaving things up to the doctor and future lab results.

So that's it in a nutshell, the reason I deleted the post a few days ago about this issue.

Because I Can.

It's inevitable, isn't it?  Social networking is like trying to have a picnic beneath a buzzing hornets nest.  We know the situation is precarious, especially when so many have now succumbed to chronic butt-hurt, and yet we persevere, post to our little heart's content, and laugh at the wrath some things inspire from unstable people.  We try to understand, and some will try to edit what they post in order to 'keep down the drama.'  Thing is, the drama is on their side, not ours.  I mean, getting bent out of shape over what someone posts is a lot like being offended by the furniture in your neighbor's house... and saying so.  It's rude, and it's inappropriate.

So why do people do it if it's just going to stir up trouble?  Well, the answer to the question is in the question itself.  Some people are addicted to drama, and you can spot them readily because they'll be the ones complaining constantly, and in their passive/aggressive manner, about everyone else's "drama."  I know you guys have seen this.

I'm always a little amazed, watching them melt-down, lose control, judge others for speaking their minds, all the while trying desperately trying to blur the line between 'victim' and 'bully.'  Know the type I'm talking about?  These are the people who will call you an idiot while claiming they're above such behavior.

It's perplexing.

Here's the thing: Social networking doesn't come with a carte blanche card to attack other people's views, etc.  You have a choice to keep going if you see a post you don't like, and most stable, intelligent people will do just that.  And yes, there are exceptions, such as someone outright attacking, bullying, posting personal or sensitive information about you, etc.  I mean, by all means.. call them out on it if they do that, and be sure to block their sorry asses when you're done.  Nobody likes a bully.

Now, you also have to practice what you preach.  I choose not to comment if I don't like something, and I refrain when possible the urge to behave in passive/aggressive ways.

I personally don't believe we should censor our speech just to make other people more comfortable.  DO know that I'm NOT including bullying in this, because that will NEVER be okay.  Not ever.  But outside of bullying, we can say what we want, given it's within keeping with said SN TOS.

My personal experience in this current political climate has been that the chronically butt-hurt come out in force when I post something that isn't in keeping with their own views.  One person in particular has taken to some very nasty commenting on posts he doesn't agree with, and often it's simply posts in support of who my chosen presidential candidate is.  Now why would anyone have to vomit nastiness on a positive post?  Who knows?  Who cares?  My posts on my page aren't open to bullying and nastiness.  I will either delete your posts or block you.  Enough is enough.  For the record, I've not yet blocked this other person, but that could change quickly after today's nastiness.

When has free speech turned into 'free to bully'?  I don't have the answer to this question either, but maybe it's more a rhetorical reference than anything else.  Either way, some people really don't understand how stubborn I can be when it comes to another trying to control what I do, how I think, how I feel, and so on.  Yeah, I can assure you.. you really don't want to poke the bear like that.

Bullying doesn't work on me, and you'll find quite the opposite response than what you hope for.  But then, I think these types of drama queens actually WANT the drama, which is why they spend SO much time tossing insults.  Why else would they do it if that's the only payoff?

So today this person went on a rant, tossing in character assassination remarks and such, and quite a few at that.  But the main complaint is that he didn't want to see political posts and actually stated that if you're posting more than 2-3 per day that your friends are "Fucking sick of you."  Well, what he thinks was a clever cut down and shaming tactic I see only as a challenge, and one I accepted right off.  Today is going to be a day when the political posts will continue.. all.. day.. long.

I don't give in to bullies, who are really just cowards anyway.  My page, my posts, and anyone who doesn't like it can click the 'unfollow' or 'unfriend' button!  You can't bully me.  You can't censor me.  And you can't control me.

Challenge me, and you may be surprised at my response.  And remember, you can't un-ring that bell.

I also practice what I preach: if I see a post I don't like... I move on.  Having the restraint to NOT react is empowering, because when you do as that other person did today you show weakness, an inability to control your own emotions and behavior.  Why would anyone willingly do that?  There are venues outside of social media to air your grievances if needed.  Hell, I have blogs where I can speak my mind and get things off my chest WITHOUT drawing attention to the person I may be talking about.  Having been at the receiving end of abuse and character assassination I choose to refrain from going down that road if possible.  But I assure you, I'm NOT afraid to stand up for myself; that's a completely different thing altogether anyway.

As they say... haters gonna hate. ;p

Family--Beating My Head Against the Wall

To say I come from a dysfunctional family is putting it mildly.  Further back than my own memory reaches my siblings have hated me.  No, really, I'm not making this up or being dramatic.  I don't talk about this much because it brings a lot of sadness and discomfort, anger and resentment rushing to the surface.  It's a long story, really, and one with gaps and holes and far-reaching voids where many memories have vanished.  It would be oh so much easier had I been adopted, because I know virtually nothing about my family tree, for all the asking I've done over the years, and my parents are both deceased with my having absolutely NO idea where I came from, who my ancestors are, or what my connection is to any of them, if at all.

I was a "Mistake," according to my mother.  Now, my relationship and experience with my mom is a story in and of itself, and honestly... I could write a novel here about that.  But I'm not going to.  Let's just say my mom was disconnected by the time I was born, old enough to be my grandmother, and about as unplugged as a parent could get.  It was easier to micromanage and control everything to a damaging degree, rather than create experiences that may have given me a chance and coming out on the other side with less 'issues.'  Yes, of course I have issues, and in a way it was my mom's only legacy.

How is it that I could know little of nothing, if anything, about anyone in my family tree?  Well, that's easy--when you don't answer questions, share nothing, and ensure that not a single photo, letter, information, etc. gets passed down to you... well, you can't ask a dead person questions.  Point blank, not pretty, but absolute truth just the same.

Everything from health/medical information was shared primarily with ONE of the 6 children, and I wasn't the one who got the information.  My eldest sister was my mother's confidant, her go-to gal, and there was an almost too-close relationship between my mom and my oldest sister (old enough to be my mom).  I spent my entire life on the outside, looking in, and it was that way until my mom passed away (over 20 years ago now).

One sister and I shared a dad, and my other siblings share a father form my mom's 1st and only marriage.  Yep, my other sister and I were illegitimate.  I could really care less about that, to tell you the truth.  My dad was out of the picture when I was 18 months old, and my mother really never spoke of him or his family except for some really scary things, very dark and scary things.  Now, it shouldn't surprise anyone that if you scare a kid like that, they're most likely not ever going to ask too many questions.  This was the case with me.

The siblings who had a different dad hate me.  Just the truth.  I was even told that one reason they despised me was that, because we were very poor, they often didn't get as much milk (the example used by one brother and sister) because when it came down to the wire... "The baby" (me) needed it more than they did.  I can't speak for what happened when I was a baby.  I can't apologize for something that I didn't do on purpose.  Yet that resentment carried right into adulthood for my 3 brothers and one sister.  BTW, I don't really think of them as brothers and sisters because they've not treated me as such throughout my life.  What memories I have of life with them.. isn't good.

I was born very late, with my mom being in her early 40's when she had me.  All my siblings (but for one) was grown and gone and with kids of their own, so I pretty much grew up like an only child from about age 10.. when one of my sisters married and moved out (she was 16).  We lived in a 3 bedroom house that was eventually condemned, and my mother (a hoarder) used all 3 bedrooms as her hoarding rooms.  My sister, the one I share a dad with, had her own room, lots of 'stuff,' decorated walls, record player, records, clothes, and a bike.  I didn't have enough toys to even have a toy box, so even in this respect I would find myself living an entirely different life than my sister... and everyone else, actually.

My mom was absent, indifferent, cold most of the time...and even cruel.  Skipping over more details than will fit here, I will say that my childhood was very, very odd, and the damage done has proven to be long-lasting.  Still, I spent my life longing for a family, a REAL family.  Now, coming from a family with 3 brothers and 2 sisters you would think that a strange thing for me to say.  Aunts, uncles, cousins... really had nothing to do with me, but for one cousin who, I guess, simply took pity on me.  I felt the hostility from them all growing up and didn't understand any of it at all.  I felt it, saw it, heard it, and experienced that hostility until we moved away from California.  We moved to Colorado because my oldest brother wanted my mom to move there so she could babysit while he and my SIL could work.  I was in 8th grade when we moved, and my life didn't get better at all.

Longing for a real family... even to this day....

I would eventually move away from the state of Colorado.  My kids and I, to make a long story short as possible, ended up here in the south along the Gulf Coast, where we settled into that strange place (strange to us because we weren't from there) and would end up calling the south "Home."  It's the only place that ever felt like home to me.  I'm still in the south, but a little further north by a few short hours.  But back to "Family"....

When my mom passed, naturally my eldest sister got everything.  Very important items my mom was holding for me until I could send for them were divided amongst my brothers and sisters and nephews... or just tossed out as garbage.  They did this QUICKLY after my mother died, the day they found out, using the excuse that they were sure that since she was on disability, got a veteran's widow pension, and on Medicare, etc... that the 'government' was going to come in and take her stuff.  Yes, LUDICROUS, but that's the excuse they used.  And when I arrived for her funeral I wasn't even allowed to so much as have a photo of hers.  My eldest sister 'allowed' me to take ONE photo to have it photocopied.  My mom had boxes and boxes of photos, btw.

Few actually had anything to say to me at the funeral, or after.  It was the same shit, different day.. only worse.  A few years later I'd tried once again to make some kind of connection with them, but it ended in a total disaster.  I finally came to my senses and realized that I was the only one putting in any effort and that it just simply wasn't worth it.  I basically told my oldest brother and his bitchy wife to piss off.  And yes, it felt great and was LONG overdue.

In the present....

I know pretty much nothing of my family history, my family tree.  My last living grandparent died when I was 2 weeks old, and everyone else was so much older than me that no one really had anything to do with me.  My mom wasn't really forthcoming with names, histories, etc., though she did incorporate some names and such in a few fun stories she would tell from time to time.  But as a little child I really had no idea if she were making the stuff up/telling fairytales, or if the information was actually true.  And after my mom's death... the information about grandparents and such were simply not given to me, even if I asked.  Photos, etc.... all given to my sister, who claimed some neighbor stole them, were lost.  My brothers, etc. chose badly when they decided to give my sister everything.  One person said they thought my sister pawned or sold the framed antique photos of grandparents etc for money.  Sadly, it sounds exactly like something she would do.

The cruelty extends into adulthood....

When one of my brothers passed away a few years ago I was told about this AFTER the funeral had taken place, and... I was told on Facebook by a distant cousin.  She apparently looked for me on Facebook with ONE purpose in mind, and that was to send me a message that read.. "B**** passed away last week.  Thought you'd like to know."  I asked "How/why?" which lead to her replaying in the same short, blunt fashion. She then disappeared and didn't say a word ever again.  I'd written back a couple of times.. with no response.  I'd written my nephew as well, and have been ignored.  And this nephew I grew up with and was very close to most of our lives.  He's only 2 1/2 years younger than I am.

Cruelty was their favorite weapon, and continues to be so.


The family tree...

As someone who feels completely disconnected from 'family' or blood ties, history... it only stands to reason that I would, eventually, WANT to know something about my own family history.  SOMETHING.  ANYTHING.  So when I decided to look into www.ancestry.com I felt like I was taking a step in the right direction.  Maybe this site could help me put the broken pieces together in such a way that I would at least see my connection within the bloodline.

What I've done...

I created an account at www.ancestry.com over a year ago, but since I wasn't really willing to invest any money into getting a full account, I've only spent the smallest bit of time there.  But that changed for me about a week ago when I saw a commercial online for Ancestry and a DNA test they offered that shows where your bloodline is from, at least in percentages.  A lot of folks have jumped on board for this.  Now, one cool thing about the DNA test and having a real account (which I don't yet) is that you can set your family tree to allow links between matches for DNA, region, etc.  It's a lot more complicated than that, and they have a video that explains it all, but it's a really neat tool and a good place to start.  But what about for someone like me?....

DNA results may be the only thing I really get out of this, and that's okay.  It's something, isn't it?  It would be nice to know for sure what ethnicities are involved in my family tree, even if I don't have any family history to see how the pieces fit.  I sent my kit off today and, from what I understand, it will take about a week for the results to get uploaded online.  Knowing it's not going to give me complete picture of my family tree... I'm still okay, and I'm fairly patient where that's concerned.

So what's my freaking point here?

My point is this: If you have information about family history (names, places, etc) please share them with your kids.  Don't leave them in the dark to spend the rest of their lives wondering who they really are (history wise), where they're from, what their history is, etc.  It's really not a good or easy thing to live with when you have no idea about those things.  Don't do that to your kids, seriously.

My desire to know more about my family history/ancestry runs deeper than the hurt from the disconnection from my actual 'family members.'  I rarely use the word 'family' when speaking about them.  They're blood relatives to me, but nothing more.

I have to wonder if I'm beating my head against the wall trying to piece together a family tree I know nothing about.  Names, birth dates, etc. are required to even do searches or make connections.  What little information I have really just stops at my mom, and my dad I have only a name and birth date.  It's really like hitting a brick wall.  But is it worth it, all of this effort?  I don't know.

I really just don't know.  The one thing I DO know is that I'm left with the question: Will I ever fully understand myself in connection to history and ancestry?

*shrugs*

Like I need another hole in the head.

New blog.  Honestly, sometimes I wonder where I get all the time to post in all of these.  In some ways having the focuses of my entries in separate blogs helps me maintain cohesive thought.... well, at least I TRY.  Expressing everything in one common place just makes for a serious muddle in which it's difficult to sift through sometimes.  I mean, I revisit some of my entries to see where I am.  I mean, isn't that what a 'diary' is for?

Well, this new one is about the ongoing processes of working out past injuries, as well as current ones...

Either way, it was a moral imperative.  Finding my way in the dark is a necessity, and the link below will provide you with a window on which to see this happen.  It's not always going to pleasant...

This Free Spirit

OR

http://abusebondsbroken.blogspot.com

Narcissists Destroy Who they cannot Control

M... please listen to this carefully.  And anyone who may need to hear this... Praying for anyone who's been subjected to this.

PART 2: Selfishness as a matter of convenience (Where's the respect??)

I'm unimpressed.  I'm completely unimpressed by T, and by the way most guys treat women.  In my particular case, the disrespect is dehumanizing, demoralizing, belittling, and disappointing beyond anything I've known.  It's not just this relationship, but in the past as well.  My choices have NOT been the greatest, and my guess it's because I'm trusting and take people at face-value.  This is NOT a good thing.  At all.

As of yesterday a new low has been established, and I'm in no position to do anything about it.  Thus is the case when dealing with control freaks who refuse to see that they're actions are completely selfish and self-serving.  DON'T VOLUNTEER to do something for someone if you're only going to use it to gain control over that person!  DAMN!  How hard is that to understand?

All my doctor's appointments are now between my doctors and T.  Why?  Because ALL appointments aren't about what's necessary, or needed, or critical, or about doing tests etc in a 'timely fashion.'  Nope.  NOW my appointments are about what's convenient for T.  It's about what he does or does not feel like doing, what works with his schedule (he's been told he needs to use a lot of his leave or lose it), and none of it has a thing to do with... me, you know, the actual patient.

Yesterday was a disaster, stressful beyond reason, frustrating in that I'm basically told I no longer have any control on when or what time I get an appointment.  *sigh*  One major symptom of late makes it dangerous for me to drive much beyond a few miles of my house.  Dizziness/vertigo doesn't exactly translate into "safe driving."  So I'm stuck for the time being, screwed beyond reason, because I have to wait for T to decide when I can see my ENT or Neurologist regarding the severe tinnitus, vertigo and dizziness that's come on over the past couple of weeks.  I sit.  And I wait.  For HIM to decide when it's a good time to see the doctor about this.

Why the F***K am I here????!!!!  Being here is unhealthy, both physically and emotionally.  It's detrimental to my health and well-being, and the inner workings of living in this house with T has destroyed my quality of life.

Now, some of you know my recent history with relationships and know what I've gone through.  I also know what you're most likely going to say to me and expect that email eventually.  It's okay.  Send it on.  Maybe I need to hear that.. 'again.' ;)  Either way, you're most likely seeing something familiar in all of what I'm writing, in which case I will say... I do too.

More later.  I promise... the flood gates are open now...

Finally.

What I learned

Every experience I've had has taught me more than I really wanted to learn, and it wasn't always sunshine and rainbows.  The good stuff wouldn't be recognized as 'good' if there weren't any basis for comparison.  While I grit my teeth and muddle through the bad, I still dream of a future where the good definitely outweighs the bad.  Is that just asking too much?

NO!

I can only take so much.

The sticking point for me these days is a past that comes back to haunt me.  As I've said before, closure in situations of loss is necessary, no matter WHAT people try to tell me (and themselves).  You can't push it aside, or bury it deep, or completely ignore it because it absolutely WILL drag you down to the depths of hell-on-earth while you may be completely oblivious to the signs.

I am well aware of why I can't get closure.  I've been told why, but it was unnecessary.  It took a few steps, introspection, and I had to take a huge step back to see the truth.  When it finally came into focus I was completely taken aback by the sheer force of what I was shown.  My God, how did I not SEE???!!

All that confusion, all that not knowing who the hell he was from one day to the next, all that unrecognizable behavior, the words, the everything.  I didn't question, and that was my first mistake.  I put the rose-colored glasses on and blissfully went through the world in a daze of utter ignorance to my situation, of who and what I was dealing with.  Oh, I've stopped asking myself WHY I did it, because I've gone past that and know better now.  But I still have so many times when I mourn the loss of that person...

Mourning still because there wasn't anyone to say goodbye to.  Why?... because I fell in love with someone who didn't exactly exist! 

This revelation, when it came, knocked the wind out of me and created a sense of loss unlike anything I'd ever known.  Why did it hurt so much?  Why did it take so long to let go?  Why does it still haunt me today?  The reason is stated clearly above, and it's impossible to say goodbye to someone who never existed in the first place.

So who the f**k did I fall in love with?  Not sure, really, as I didn't exactly get to know him that well except for the dark stuff.

How did I manage to move on?... Well I've not moved on totally, which means I haven't moved on.  Strange as it may sound BOTH are true.

I just keep working through it--the confusion.  I mean, what else is there to do?  There was never any closure to allow me to move to the next level and stay there.  The grieving process for breakups is the same as when someone dies, and the process is rather circular... at least for a time.  Back and forth you go through the stages until you reach the final stage that sets you free--acceptance.  While I ACCEPTED the situation for what it is, accepting the breakup isn't exactly what happened, because I'd no idea WHO it was I broke up with.  The person I was in love with changed SO drastically that it took my breath away--and in all the WRONG ways, I assure you.

The less I recognized him the more confused I became, and a part of me continued to search for the person I'd fallen in love with.  This was the cycle I was trapped in while still with him.  While blindsided by the behavior, the sneaking around, and so forth... I still forgave because I was erroneously convinced that he was still the person I fell in love with.  Yet, I didn't SEE anything at all that I actually recognized!  Nothing at all.  The face was the same.  The voice was the same.  But everything else---NOT at all recognizable.

Look, I know people go through events and situations in their lives that change them for a short time; but eventually they get back to themselves again.  Also, the person they are shines through despite what's happening and the resulting behavior etc changes.  I get this.  I've gone through it myself.  However, the absence of ANYTHING recognizable in that person was the most perplexing part of the whole thing, leaving me to ask inwardly and often.... "WHO are you??!!"

I still learned much from the ordeal, and I know exactly what I won't deal with ever again.  I also know exactly what I want.  No one is perfect, and I don't expect perfection, but I do know what's right for me... now.

More on this later....

Testing patience, and those damn zombies

Patience is a virtue--blah, blah, blah.  No.. patience is a skill!  I used to have nearly endless patience, but I was taught over the past few years that too much patience extended incorrectly can turn you into a doormat.  Doesn't meant to say that patience isn't good or necessary (because it is in most cases), but you have to know when enough is enough.  Obviously, I haven't learned this particular lesson or skill myself, as I continuously allow far too much that wrecks my peace, tranquility, and overall health.  Enough is enough.  Right?

I've been told that if someone is complaining a lot that they're just 'negative.'  What I learned from an expert is actually the opposite.  While complaining about what negative things are going on in one's life may appear negative in itself, it's actually a side effect of seeking answers, resolutions, and working towards understanding of the situation.  It took me a while to understand and accept that it's a natural part of a necessary process, though, but I now understand what's going on and why it's okay, sometimes, to vent.  Some of this most people already know.  In the end, if someone is complaining about x, y, and/or z... listening can be of SO much benefit to that person.  And for those who proclaim that the person's 'negative energy' is wrecking their day, their mood, etc... you may want to consider that it's not that person's 'energy' that's wrecking anything.. it's your perception and resulting Reaction that changes things on your side.

Research, for example, has shown that in times of stress, anxiety, anger, etc... using the 'F' word actually lowers blood pressure!  Funny, I know... but absolutely true.  When it comes to complaining, as long as the person is venting the pressure they feel in the process... then it helps.  If the complaining is merely a habit---then it's most likely a groove they've gotten themselves into, rather than an immediate stressor they're trying to work through.

If I had a dollar for every time someone says they're a "Good listener".... I'd be rich.

There are good listeners, and there are some who completely and totally SUCK at it.  And should you ever REALLY need someone to talk to you better know which people in your life fall into which category.  If you trust the wrong person and let it all out, you're likely to feel far worse than had you said nothing at all; I think we've all been there.  Just a little inventory of your personal social network can tell you a great deal about whom you can trust.  And by "personal social network" I mean just that.  Not online social network ONLY, but the people you interact with, be it online or off.

The enablers...

These types of people listen, all right, but their usual reaction is to commiserate with you.  This is neither appropriate or helpful.  There is a difference between 'understanding' and 'commiserating.'  People understand may offer up something to let you know they've 'been there, done that and understand what you're going through.'  There's nothing wrong with that at all, and it makes the person who needs to talk feel much better about their situation.  But then there's the OTHER type, the ones who jump right in and complain heavily about their own experiences, tell you their entire life story, then tell you why you should keep feeling the way you do.  These people are easily recognized because you walk away from the situation feeling much worse, and also feeling like there's really little hope.  They in effect enable whatever negative emotion you're feeling while jumping on board and adding fuel to the fire.  Not to be confused with those who are offering up good advice while being emotional about it.

The Borg...

Think I'm kidding here? lol  I call some people 'Borg' when they harbor both contempt and indifference to your pain.  As you vent these people appear completely detached, and quite often respond with a little more than a grunt or canned response (if they really respond at all) while also trying to change the subject to something more palatable to them.  These types are actually quite dangerous to your situation, because on some very deep level they want you to feel worse.  Sounds crazy, yes?  These folks often KNOW you're feeling bad, down, etc... and ASK WHY you're feeling that way, only to respond with impatience, contempt, and sometimes even anger.  And this is IF they work themselves out of their own disinterest in you and your situation.  Steer clear of these types!

The zombies...

Many of us have watched enough zombie movies etc to know what zombies do.  Zombies are consumed by their own needs, self-interest, and will take whatever it is they want, no matter what it takes to do so.  They feel nothing, and they're relentless.  The only driving force is the all-consuming hunger to 'feed,' and they don't care if the person they're 'feeding on' is a family member, friend, loved one.  Zombies are consumed by 100% self-interest.  Period.  Oh, and there's the that lack of humanity thing.  Sounds like a lot of human beings, doesn't it?

While these zombie types don't try and eat your face off, they will still utterly consume you piece by piece until there's little left of you; and what is left is barely recognizable.  This type of person is by far the most dangerous of all.  This type of person psychologists refer to as narcissists.

Of course, the analogy of the zombie here is used somewhat loosely because I'm not talking about people who have no pulse, aren't breathing, and who eats the flesh of another human being.  Silly as it is for me to say that, I still feel I must.  But let me also clarify something---if you put everything a zombie is into an actual living, breathing person... it's pretty frightening.

My past relationships have included Zombies and Borgs, and those experiences nearly destroyed me as a person.  Truth.

Settings change for 'adult content'

First let me say the settings we changed due to some subject matter which will be discussed occasionally.  While I work on talking openly about issues that NEED addressing, some of those issues are going to be sexual in nature.  I think it only fair to warn you guys.

Many of you won't care as I've had these settings in place before.  I removed the settings and decided not to talk of anything 'sensitive' some time back, and I did this due to an increasing necessity to protect myself by withholding much of what's going on within and without.

Things are changing, and I'm fully planning on going with the flow here.  If you can hang---cool.  If you can't hang---I certainly understand.

In the wake of a 12 hour night

Insomnia is the usual case for me, especially over the past year.  Very difficult to fall asleep, and even more difficult waking up.  It's not that I don't wake up, it's more that I feel like I've been hit by a truck when I do.  This has been destroying my quality of life for some time now.  And last night was an unusual event as I slept for about 12 hours.  I do have to say, however, that it wasn't an unbroken sleep.  But even if within that broken 12 hours I managed to get 11 hours, I can feel a bit of change today.  Hasn't resolved everything, but I feel somewhat different.  This has to be brought under control.  And this... effects EVERYTHING about my life.  EVERYTHING.

Sometimes, after I have a fairly decent night's sleep I wake up feeling odd, too aware of everything.  I'm not sure this is a good thing, to tell you the truth.  In fact, it's quite unsettling.  In the fog of sleep deprivation and other limiting health issues it's almost a Godsend to have reality blurred somewhat.  I know it sounds crazy, but you don't know my life.. not really.  My 'life' hovers on the edges of that blurred reality for the most part, and when the lines begin to sharpen around what I've been ignoring and the stark reality of what actually IS...my anxiety builds.  Why?  Well, isn't it obvious?  Frankly put---I don't like my reality.

Changing my reality:

I've not given up.  I'm searching for answers.  If those answers are WITHIN me, then those things are buried DEEP, because I can't seem to access them at all.  So what's next?  Yeah, you hear that a lot here, don't you?  If I had the answers to that I'd already being doing it, trust me.

Still, I have to compartmentalize everything these days just so I can deal; I think we all pretty much do this.  I guess the trick is to not completely seal everything off.  *shrugs*

Healing.  Healing is absolutely NECESSARY to getting back to myself again.  I have to heal in mind, body, and spirit.  No matter what, I will have no quality of life if I don't heal.  So how do I do that?  How do I heal while in a place that isn't conducive to healing?  THAT is the million dollar question.

I'm stuck:

What do I do?  Where do I go?  How do I start?  When do I start?  How long will it take?  Which path is right?  Will I find my footing?

There isn't a single soul around that I can talk to about this.  The few people I have to talk to I can't open up to.  It's difficult to talk to someone who's not listening.

There's nothing that instills mistrust in another person than trying to talk to someone about something critical, important and having them shrug it off as if it's insignificant.  I'm not a fool, and I can tell when someone really could give a shit less.  All it takes is once, and I won't open up to that person again...

"Sorry to hear that.  Hope you feel better soon."  Wow.  Can't tell you how much this one puts me off.

Platitudes are not only insulting and hurtful to me, but they make you look shallow and self-absorbed.  Seriously.

It's been said that we live in a 'ME ME ME' era, and I have to agree.  Opening up to another human being, wether a friend or relative, is almost pointless these days.  At least it's been this way for me.  And...this is why I have blogs.  Opening up to people usually just brings on the deadpan platitudes that actually make me feel worse.

Does anyone in this country give a shit about anything at all?

Even T is deadpan, self-absorbed to the point of not seeing or hearing or feeling anything about anyone around him.  Most of all me.  But I'm adjusting to that, which means... my feelings toward him are changing radically, and now... irreversibly.  He was warned about this some time back, so he knew the risk of maintaining the status-quo.  Once I accepted that I have to focus on myself in order to heal, to get well, to reach for a better quality of life, to be happy, hopeful, and vibrant... things became both easier and more difficult at the same time.  I never expected this to be easy.

Back to sleep...

My dreams tell all.  I tend to dream a lot these days, and I dream of a reality that isn't, or at least used to be, MY reality.  I'm never tired, sick, painful, or alone in my dreams.  When I sleep.. I'm exactly where I want to be in my waking life.  I know what it is that I want, and my subconscious is showing me every single night how vastly WRONG my actual life is.  Many times I absolutely hate waking up.

It's going to be a long process, reaching my goals, and I will have to remind myself each and every day what those goals are.  I will also have to do everything in my power not to give up, because what happens in the reality of my life makes me want to give up.  This isn't a good thing.  At all.

So, what now?

PART I: Deciphering Indifference: Don't waste my time

It's a chronic problem with T.  It's a chronic problem with a lot of people in this world and is more evident now than ever.  People have allowed a destructive numbness to creep into the very fabric of who and what they are.  The consequences of embracing indifference is that it becomes a part of you, defining you, and ultimately destroying everything with its insidious whisperings inside your mind and heart.  It's a comfortably destructive habit that will take everything about you and make it its own.  It walks softly into one's life as a comforting buffer against anything and everything that makes you... FEEL.  And in the throes of its seductive and blinding embrace... you can be ultimately lost forever.

Indifference is like the sting of a mosquito; with just the smallest amount of anesthetic you won't feel the effects until it's too late.

When blind indifference takes hold of a person it's usually a selective process that often singles out just one, at first unwitting, individual.  Damage is done to both sides, but the effects of the one staring into the face of indifference are far greater in intensity and much longer-lasting.  Honestly, as much as we humans try to distance ourselves from the hurtful effects we too often fail at removing ourselves effectively.  That doesn't mean we don't on some level understand what's happening, and usually several attempts are made to make the other aware of what they're doing.  But true to indifference's nature our words, actions, they all fall on completely deaf ears.

I've been through two relationships of indifference, and both times I ended up not caring a flip about that person in the end.

Over the last few years I've come to see indifference from new angles, and I no longer believe that I'm the one who has the responsibility to fix what's happening.  On the contrary.  I wasn't put on planet earth to fix anyone, except myself.  If indifference is really all that person has to offer, they have absolutely nothing to offer.  At least not to me.

While I've focused yet again on 'the thing' that I want to talk about, I haven't actually shared where I am in this whole thing.

Where I am in all of this and why talking about it matters...

In context, indifference matters a great deal when it comes to me and my life, my emotional and physical health.  It directly affects how I go about the course of my life, the details of who I am and what I want and need are blurred beneath the sharp blades that attempt to obliterate all in its path.

Case in point: Following the first IV iron infusion for anemia there were symptoms that I couldn't pin-point, ones that usually put someone on alert.  With my heart and lung issues, having severe breathlessness and chest pressure is one of those things you simply shouldn't ignore, no matter who you are.  A smart person would at least mention it to whoever they're living with, or call someone to let them know what's going on... to be on the safe side.  Though, I have to add that it's a good idea to call someone who actually cares, because the alternative could be deadly.

Roughly about a day and a half after my IV infusion I had an 'event' that evening that startled me.  I had just gotten into bed and found the usual breathlessness that I experience every night (heart issues), but instead of easing a little.. it actually intensified... a LOT.  I found myself feeling as if an elephant was sitting on my chest, and I was gasping for air.  Literally gasping for air.  This went on for about 10 minutes or so until I became so fatigued by it all that I actually fell asleep.  But before I fell asleep I alerted T to what was going on.  He was actually standing near my side of the bed and wide awake, and when I told him what I was feeling, while gasping for air between words, he..said.. absolutely nothing.  Nothing at all.  He went around the other side of the bed and laid down in silence while I continued to gasp for air.

I propped myself up on my side on one elbow, still unable to breathe correctly, still gasping for air and trying to slow down my breathing.. thinking it may help.  I'm not prone to panic attacks and felt no panic at all while this was going on, hence my not insisting I go to the ER.  Was it concerning?  Of course it was!  But I believed it would pass.  And it did.. after I fell asleep.  I was exhausted by the experience.  Utterly exhausted.

The next day T went to work as usual and didn't mentioned what happened the night before.  What this left me with, like several other 'acts of indifference,' was a deep-seated mistrust, and it went so deep to the bone that I cannot shake it no matter what.  But in reality, I don't WANT to shake this mistrust because it's necessary.  This isn't the first time or first issue that's come along to instill a strong self-protectiveness.

T, I have found, doesn't really care much for anything any further than about 6 inches outside his own skin.  He's aware of it, I've tried to talk to him about it, strongly suggested he "Pick something and practice giving a shit," and all for nothing but wasted breath and wasted time.  I don't have any inclination to continue wasting energy and time on someone who's not willing to give a damn.

Whenever something of vital importance arises, T is "absent."  He's not plugged in.  He's not at all invested.  And this is why I grow increasingly weary of involving him in anything important that's going on with me, my health, and so on.  He's basically now on the outside, and he's even indifferent to that.. until he feels it's going to affect him personally in some way.  *sigh*

There will be a PART II to this, because it's a huge huge issue for me, and one that is helping to destroy my health.  It's about time I talk about it ALL, and it's just too much for a single entry.

I'm exhausted.  Deciphering indifference is a huge energy-suck, and I just don't have any energy to spare.  If you don't FEEL anything---don't waste my time!

Have you seen my alter egos?...

.... I think they're playing a disturbing game of hide and seek.  Just kidding!  For the sake of clarity, for anyone new to reading the entries of this blog, my 'alter egos' is a reference to my other blogs, ones which I try to update as often as possible.  At times, I copy and paste the same entry as the first blog I began with, but I try very hard to post what's relevant to that blog.  Trust me, my blogs aren't supposed to be created equal. ;)

You can find the Alter Ego links in the menu bar on the side of the page, if you're curious and new to my blogs.  And why do I have other blogs?  Basically, they were all set apart for specific purposes; dreams and wishes, passions/life/desire/health, and the transient things that, by their very nature aren't always meant to sustain themselves in my life, or... at times... on 'the page.'  Naturally, all of the parts make up the whole, so overlapping is common and necessary sometimes.

I have to admit I've held back a lot over the past few months, whereas in the past I've pretty much unloaded here.  I won't go into why I began withholding what I really wanted to write, but the experiences took hold and held on for dear life.  It wasn't my intention for things to go that way.  But they did anyway.

My goal going forward is to find myself in a place of trust.  This will be a process, because my past being what it is, well, it's just going to take some time is all.  I'll get there.