Spilling over

I guess I should remind some of you who may not know, that if something is bothering me particularly.. I will most likely post it in all of my blogs.  The spillover from one to the next is just something that's going to happen.  Most of the time I aim to separate what I'm talking about between each one so that the meaning isn't really lost in context.  Make sense?

My blogs overlap, though they're meant to be focused in one aspect of my life or another...

Boo's Juicy Bits:  The main aim here is health, diet, eating, all the things that support and give us a foundation for a good (or bad) life.  There's so much to this part of health, so there will be at times an overlap as to what's going on the pages.  If life is getting in the way, or helping me on my way, the details will most likely end up there as well.  And don't be surprised if you find sexually-focused chatter on there as well.   The information is all connected in one form or fashion anyway.

Where Fireflies Dream:  Created as a place for whimsical thought and ideas to play, an expression of who I am, how I dream, what I want, and the things that can or do hold me back from my greatest expression of self within my life as it is at any given point.  Again, be aware that at times topics of a sexual nature will most likely appear in posts.  Don't say I didn't warn you. ;)

This Free Spirit:  The newest blog and one I feel is necessary, even critical for me.  It's a place to talk about abuse.  Been there, done that, and still haven't gotten 100% past the damage, to say the least.  My goal with this is sharing in hopes it will help others, but also to have a place to talk/deal with the lasting effects of my experiences.  This one will often have chatter of a sexual nature as well.

All Things Ephemeral:  Originally, this one was created to let it all hang out, a no holds barred kind of place to talk about EVERYTHING in great, bloody detail.  The nature of doing this means that, in the past, I would often delete posts after a day or two, a week, a month, whatever... because it was a bit much to leave just sitting there for the whole world to see.  However, this is changing.

I will be taking that no holds barred approach with posting there soon, as it's one of the greatest barriers I need to cross in order to heal.  Like Pavlov's Dogs I learned through experience that expressing myself openly meant I would pay a price, a high one at that.  But since this is no longer the case I plan on resuming, for personal growth and healing, my once bold approach to using this blog exactly as I intended---a place for me to be free to express myself in any way I see fit!

Onward...!

PART 2: Priorities Revealed

Assuming you've read PART 1, I won't rehash the entire experience.  And I've spoken of my disappointment (for lack of a better word) in that T has the worst hierarchy of priorities that I've seen in a few years.  And in light of his absence during yesterday's procedure shows me more than ever where he is, who he is, and what he is.

When I was informed yesterday that the procedure I was having was more serious and carries far more risk than 'just' the biopsy I thought I was having, my radiologist asked me if I had anyone there with me.  The fact that I was alone in the section where I waited to be taken to my procedure didn't deter him from asking, because.. after all... I was the only patient there who didn't have anyone with them.

I told him T had dropped me off and went to work;  and he just looked at me for a moment, sat down, and began telling me (using straight-forward language) how "Tricky" the procedure I was going to have, how serious it was, and about the risks involved.  He said if I wanted to call T and give him an opportunity to come back to the hospital so he could be there as it's being done that they would hold off on performing the procedure until he arrived.  The radiologist left the room, and I called T...

T's reaction?  "Well, they have my contact information so that if anything happens they can call and I will come there."

I sat there for a split-second taking in his response, then was filled with the overwhelming need to hang up the phone, to NOT hear his voice at all.  And while this isn't the first time I've felt this reaction, it was by far the strongest I've felt.  I instantly went into self-preservation mode and wanted him nowhere near me.

The nurses, doctors, and other supportive medical staff were the only ones who made me feel like I wasn't completely alone.  I accepted that for what it was and allowed myself to just focus on what was about to happen and put T far, far out of my mind.  In fact, to be honest, he didn't enter my mind at all until at the end of recovery when I was told I was being released.

What does this mean?  That's not a question I'm asking myself, because I already know the answer.  I've been there, done that in the past with someone not giving a crap about my health, my well-being, and diminishing what I was going through or dealing with.  Has society really become a nation of zombies who have nothing but bricks for hearts?  I'm certainly beginning to think so.

I was supposed to go home and rest, not strain myself, no lifting, not even driving.  But T had other plans, ones that made HIS life ultimately easier.  Because that's what it all boils down to.  The aching in my neck and liver had begun, so I prayed that the medication I was given at the hospital would kick in soon and I at least wouldn't be in pain.

A heart cath is scheduled for the 19th of this month (November), and I was given a lab order to get blood work done prior to that day, as soon as possible.  T decided that since I was "Already out and about" that I should go to the lab to get the blood drawn.  I was painful, loopy, tired, and I wasn't at all up to walking through a parking garage and hospital in order to get blood drawn.  I just wanted to go home and rest.  That's all.  Just go home and rest.  But that wasn't about to happen.  T would have his way, and I would simply have to suck it up and deal with the unpleasantness.

This isn't the first time I've been with someone who lacks compassion, but at least I now know how to deal with it while protecting myself at the same time... thanks to a couple of past relationships.  At least I was smart enough to learn from the experiences, and while those lessons were necessary and taught me much, it doesn't mean I'm not feeling the effects of what's happening.

Deja vu.

I'm still processing everything, having just gone through this yesterday.  I've no real thoughts on the matter other than the obvious that one would expect to have after such.

I'll come to terms with things---perhaps when I feel stronger.

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

Running interference

"STOP!"  Some words have lost their effectiveness.  As many times as I tell myself to stop with the stupid internal dialogue it has yet to have any real effect on me.  Damn, but my inner child is stubborn as hell!  But then, all of me tends to be that way.  With a lack of a support network I'm left to my own devices, and the on-screen blabbering of an indifferent internet to fill that void.  Guess what?  NONE of it's working.

Inspiration, more specifically the lack thereof, squashes motivation before it even gets out of the gate.  Am I saying I'm uninspired, then I would have to say "YES!"  Knowing my situation will only change when I facilitate that change (personally) is enough pressure all on its own, but when I'm told my my cardiologist that I can't exercise until after I have the nuclear stress test and get the results, well, that really puts a massive damper on things.  And waiting is just another level of hell.

My subconscious is raging against all that's happening, behaving like a willful, spoiled brat, and one in which I can't exactly order to go stand in the corner somewhere.  So the tantrums ensue, unchecked.  Yippee.

Yesterday I saw an orthodontist about an oral device that will help with this mild sleep apnea.  While waiting in the office I thumbed through a huge binder filled with handwritten testimonies of people who've gotten this device (which is a lot like what you wear to protect your teeth if you grind them in your sleep).  Anyway, encouragement and hope literally poured from the pages, and I actually felt myself on the verge of tears at the thought that "I" could really feel THAT good again.  There are things I still need to do with regards to my teeth, like get a dental implant for the one I cracked severely from years of grinding my teeth, so that will slow things down a bit.  Waiting... has never been my strong point.  Delayed gratification sucks when it's something this necessary, vital even.

For every night I spend in poor sleep, I wake to feel as if I'd not slept at all.  So how is it that I'm going to be able to wait for the next few weeks in order to deal with the process of getting that dental implant?  How in the hell do I make myself okay with feeling like THIS for yet a few more weeks?  I really don't know that I can do it.  BUT, I have to.  They can't have them make that oral device before I have the other done because it won't fit.  Ugh.

As my subconscious rages, as it seeks to pout and crawl into a deep, dark hole where it can sulk in private, I'm left with the aftermath of its childish behavior; depression, hopelessness, sadness, bewilderment, and at times anger.  Screw this.  My subconscious and I need to have a damn talk!

I really could use a support network right now.  Having to admit such a frailty is really uncomfortable, I'll have you know.  Over the years I've changed from someone who was open, okay with expressing feelings and allowing them to flow through me so I could deal with them, to someone who refuses to cry in front of anyone, to show my vulnerability, and to even express my needs.  This unpleasant change began a few years ago and has continued to hold onto the part of me I want back.  I feel like a damn hostage inside my own body.  Wtf?

Free me...

To speak in uncertain terms

I literally just wrote several paragraphs before deleting every one of them.  It's my state of mind at the moment, I suppose, really feeling like I need to talk about so much but finding the words impossible to convey what's needed.  Speaking my mind these days isn't always easy, and trying to speak my mind in uncertain terms usually ends up being the case.  Where did the girl go who could quite easily let it all flow out onto the page, or screen as it were?  Dammit.

Where is my voice?  Have I simply worn myself out by expressing what I feel and need?  Is there some cutoff inside that totally prohibits discussion on a matter that's been beaten to death with no resolution from the other side?  Where the hell is my voice?!

Too much going on.  Too much unresolved issues.  Too much indifference.  Too much passive-aggressive controlling from T.  Too many unspoken and unreasonable demands put upon me.  At some point a person under "Too much" gives in, gives up, or gives out; I tend to vacillate between all three.

When I speak, to whom do I speak?  That's a rhetorical question, btw.  I need to talk about what's going on with my health, my lack of any quality of life, my concerns, my needs, my life.  And yet, here I am pouring out what I need to talk about online, rather than talking about what I need.  Geez.  I'm starting to not make much sense, but I'm sure a few of you get where I'm coming from.  It's a familiar place to many, though probably not to all.  This place, this unhealthy place where I am right now, is actually making it more difficult to speak my mind.

Have I developed so much mistrust in people that I can't bring myself to actually say what I need to say?  This has been an ongoing theme in my life (and here) for quite some time now, and where I was once able to pour out my heart and soul and mind freely, it just seems as if every part of me that should be free is tightly shackled, gagged, and sedated by defeat.  That's not a good thing.

Once upon a time I would pour out my soul here.  Those of you who've been reading my blogs know exactly what I'm talking about.  Wether I was raging, hopeful, dreaming, wishful, happy, sad, surprised, or any other number of feelings... I was able to convey everything clearly right here, even if I weren't speaking to anyone else face-to-face.  So what's happened?

I know the answer already, though it's really difficult to say 'out loud.'  But as a first step to getting over this wall, or breaking it down, I can honestly say that I am a product of my recent history, and by 'recent' I mean over the last few years.

After being raged at and punished for speaking my mind the wall was built.  I really didn't know it was happening on all levels, but deep inside I knew, and I let it happen.  Frankly, it was absolutely necessary when it was happening.  The wall went up to protect myself, and now I can't seem to break it down again.

So, how does one get past this?  *shrugs*  Beats me.  But it needs to be done.  HAS to be done.

*sigh*

Dear Subconscious... SHUT UP!!

These dreams.  You know.  I've talked about them in past entries.  They're always quite memorable.  They don't leave me be but haunt me throughout the days, nights... in far too many waking moments. They arrive, unbidden, though I do admit to having contemplated the why's and wherefore's of their appearance.  Especially now.  Maybe because of now.  Not one damn answer as to why....

Dwelling on these dreams isn't a 'thing' with me, and most of the time it's just this haunting feeling I get... that eventually eases as the day, or days, go on.  The intensity of their message(s) increases with each subsequent dream, and I just don't know what to think about them.  It's just freaking weird.

Dear subconscious....  SHUT UP!

Where Am I?

Lost in the sluggishness of a muscle relaxer, my thinking may not be as sharp as it could be.  Dr's love to prescribe those things, and in some cases I'm sure they're a great idea.  Just not so in MY particular case.  But I do trust my doctor and, therefore, will do a two week trial of this stuff.  Nasty stuff, Flexuril.. and way too many side effects.  TWO PAGES of them!  Ugh.  But that's not what I'm here to talk about.  Just thought it may be a good idea to mention what I'm taking in case my thought processes are a little off today.

Bluntly speaking, it's been a f'kd up few days.  Had the EGD and colonoscopy the other day, and the outcome was a little confusing really.  My doctor removed a 'precancerous polyp' and said I have to have a colonoscopy once every 3 years.  Those who've had to go through those procedures know one BIG fact about them---the procedure isn't anything to worry about, but the prep SUCKS!!!!  I really wish I could just get it done every 10 years like low-risk folks.  OMG.  I won't even go into it, but I really REALLY hate going through the prep.

I'm also waiting on the results of my heart echo, and I had my chest CT done yesterday to re-check the lung nodule and to get a full view of the lungs.  The nodule was found during an echo of my abdomen (kidney stones), so the dr needs a full view of what else is there, if anything, and to see if there's been any change since the first CT.

About those CT's... anyone who's had them or having them needs to know that the radiation is cumulative!

My own history with CTs and other imaging is below (not exactly in order):

April of 2013      CT (head)

                           P.E.T. (head)

                           MRI (head and chest)

January 2013    CT

                           P.E.T. scan done on my chest.

May 2015           CT (dental)

August 2015      CT chest. 

March 2015        CT head/mouth at the dentist.

February 2014   CT at ENT

The above does NOT include x-rays.

That is a lot of exposure.  So I guess I need to make sure that the doctors understand how often I've had these in the past 2 years.  Honestly, I didn't really know it was that critical.

Oh well.  Live and learn, right?

Amidst all the health crap and various other things going on, I find myself wondering where the hell I am most of the time.  Yeah, yeah... that's nothing new, but the matter has become far more important now than it has been in the past.

Blah-blah-blah.  I'm a bit unfocused today.  Damn Flexeril.

When things sit in "Draft" for two years...

8/6/2013 I wrote an entry I never published.  It sits even now in 'draft' while I refuse to make it go away once and for all.  I'm not sure what to make of it, and I'm definitely not sure what to say about it.  I only know that from time to time I read it to make sure, perhaps, that I don't forget.

What the hell
does that
even
mean?

Wrapped in music and questions...

Maybe recent health issues are stirring things a bit, bringing the treasures to the surface like waves tossing beach glass and shells onto the sand.  I can see so much through those every-moving waters.  There they are---gifts, offered and pulled away.

Spent the majority of last night listening to music.  To quiet those whispers within that speak wether I want them to or not, even in sleep.  Sleep...always there in the shadows of a small room with tall windows.  Life's graffiti splashed upon the walls.  So much color there, moving by candlelight.  It's only memories, sometimes animated in dreams.  An unwilling passenger on a ride destined to never end.  And yet I'm here, finally, opening my eyes, stepping closer to those walls to see.  I just want to see.  Afraid to see.  I want to turn, to squeeze my eyes shut.. tight.  To run.  To run.  Because it's all there in full-blown color, splashed, swept, carefully drawn.

Careful.  Don't look.  Just don't.

Not a single moment of respite from the memories.  Awareness is all there is.  In so many ways I welcome this.

Emotional Detox (can you handle it?)

Warning!  This is an emotional detox, and I'm not going to apologize for what falls onto the 'page' here.  As with any detox, this is purging the poison, a self-cleansing if you will.  If you can't handle the non-fluffy-bunny rant here, then this is your queue to exit, stage left, while you still have the chance.

Thoughts are rather disorganized at the moment with so much converging at once.  I can't really sort things out where they make sense--just too f*cking much going on.  And yet I will try, as maybe rambling will at least get it all out of my system.

I won't promise my language will be clean.  Again, this is an emotional purging of sorts.  Of sorts.  That's the key, isn' it?  Because I'm not convinced I can completely open up here..even after all this time, after all the very close calls I've had regarding just spilling my guts for the whole world to see.

Whatever.

Waiting on doctor appointments, face to face with people who say they are specialists.  Will any of them listen, or attempt to get down to what's causing all of this?  Maybe.  I wouldn't know.  The waiting game sucks in a huge way--THAT I do know.  I also know how utterly tired I am of dealing with the physical crap going on with me, not knowing how to fix it myself, what to do/not do, or even how to DEAL with it.  Yes, I took care of the majority of the stomach pain with getting BACK on a PPI (Proton Pump Inhibitor), and DAMN was I not happy about that.  I just took myself OFF of one, convinced that it had to be causing most of the problems, if not all.  Then had to go to yet another type of drug that is NOT a PPI... only to find out that it worked for about a week, then.. didn't work at all.  Seriously? *sigh*

But there is still abdominal pain, severe muscle weakness, and I can't get enough sleep!  Really?  I mean.. really?

Then there was weaning myself off the Topamax.  Off of that... and still feeling like crap.  BUT.. it's still good to be on as little Rx's as possible.  But coming OFF those prescriptions has yet to reveal any benefit other than just being off of them.

W.  T.  F.??!!

So I'm sitting here fighting off the urge to make one more cup of coffee.  Caffein--really, the least of my problems.  And I only drink two cups/day now anyway.  Still, I'm fighting the urge.  Maybe it's my body trying to self-medicate?  IDK...

And this damn depression is irritating the crap out of me.  Though I do know that it's not your run-of-the-mill depression.  I'm told it's related to the other health issues and that when they're resolved... the depression will resolve itself.  Either way, I'm not taking any poison for that!  No way, jose!  Even so, I couldn't because of the blood thinner.  It's the feeling of being powerless against this..whateveritis.. that is taking my life away from me piece by piece, day by day.  But I'm still pursuing all avenues to help it on my own until the 'specialists' can offer up something.  Still, what can they possibly offer that will resolve THIS?

Inflammation.  I'm convinced that's what needs addressing.  It's origin means little to me at the moment, as I believe systemic inflammation IS the origin of health problems.

Damn I'm tired.  My thinking isn't quite 'there' today... just... too... tired.