Creative chaos.

I'm way behind getting these uploaded, so bear with me...

Pushing for Better.

I'm pushing harder now for healing and recovery from my shoulder surgery, so that means more intense physical therapy.  What that ends up meaning is more aching and less ability to type... for a time. In the long run this will lead to faster results.  So, sorry to say I have to do another video entry.....

Thanks for visiting & listening.

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.

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....

Shhhhhh.

It's quiet.  I like the quiet and often prefer it to even music at times.  Listening for guidance, watching for signs of life in an otherwise empty space, not knowing whether to trust my instincts and give in, fight--these are every day experiences for me; sometimes by choice; sometimes by chance; but always for a reason.

I'm heading to my oasis in a moment, a room I use as my 'Girl cave,' a place that is inherently me in all it contains, inspires, and presents.  My own place where I can retreat, nap, contemplate, and create if I had the energy.  It's a good place.  A very very good place.  I feel at home in there, more at peace. It could just be the decor, all the familiar items from my former life of 2 years ago, the soothing familiarity invoking that feeling of "Ah."  It's really my space and I am very protective of that space, I promise you.

So I took that Lasix for the first time a little while ago and am waiting for it to kick in.  This means I'm retreating to my room where I can be near a bathroom... yeah, it's a very powerful diuretic, prescription, and boy is it going to keep me busy this afternoon.  It's okay.. because it's needed to combat the prednisone water retention, which is making my BP shoot up in the are of 194/82.  NOT a good BP reading.

Time to head into the other room...

Okay, bladder... let's do this!

Yikes!

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*

Ever-Wondering Why I Bother to Give a Damn

It was a long holiday weekend filled with packing, moving a few loads over to the new house, and lots of anxiety having to be around T for that long.  I'm not being mean here, I assure you, but the magnitude in which he's "just not there" is ever more apparent when we're around each other too much.  And honestly, it drags me down and wears me out beyond words.  Not sure how I can handle this much longer.

I try very hard to be patient and understanding, but it's nearly impossible to feel those things when the other person is simply not trying at all.  I'm a ghost in my own household (notice I didn't say "home"), and the weight of being absolutely trapped is taking a tremendous toll on me both physically and emotionally.  Life isn't supposed to be this hard.

He's supposed to go visit his family in Florida next month, and no.. I'm not going.  By choice.  I'm simply not up to that long drive right now, and honestly... I really need the time alone; maybe I'll be able to breathe for once.  I'm a little scared I'll like being by myself much more than I realize.  Though it really wouldn't surprise me...as I crave space, peace, breathing room, a place to stretch these broken wings and try and remember what it feels like to fly.

...It was another weekend with my pointing out all the ways he tries to control me, how he treats me like a child, how he doesn't respect me... and as always it falls on deaf ears.  Oh, he vehemently INSISTS that he understands what I'm trying to say to him, that he gets it, that he will try harder, and so on..and on..and on..and on.  His words mean very little to me anymore, and his WORD... means even less.

I can't rely on him following through.

Honestly, I could understand his not being able to follow through on some things if there were a REASON.  But there's not.  He simply just... doesn't.  And it's very telling.

In the meantime I try desperately to hold on, to remember who I am, to remember my dreams, wishes, hopes, goals, and to remind myself that my needs matter too.  I also have to work on not being completely rolled over by him when he does this; and I have to say it's nearly impossible.  I mean, let's face it---I'm not the toughest person, and I'm sensitive to both people and environment.  And my environment right now is NOT conducive to happiness, joy, OR healing; three things of which I need desperately in my life.

How the hell did I get here?  Rhetorical question, really.  What I should be asking myself is 'How did I get here AGAIN?!'

Okay, so truth be told I'd have to say I HAVE asked myself that question and know how I got here again.  I'm not in the awful places that I've been in the past with relationships, but this one isn't healthy for me at all.  So what do I do so that I can thrive, live, and be able to breathe in my own space?

That's the million dollar question, isn't it?

And I'm working on that...

I am.  I have to.

HAVE to.

Still fighting to find my bearings

Something isn't right.  "Something" hasn't felt right for a few years now, maybe since about 2012, maybe 2011.  When things break, the pieces often remain, cutting their way through the soft fabric of life.  I guess I'm realizing I was more malleable than first thought, and the strong, restraining hands of  someone I loved reshaped parts of me that I actually liked.  Not to say I'm not still in here--because I absolutely am.  Such is the part of me that fights like hell to keep me safe, protected from all the hurtful, jagged edges of what's left.  Because.. the parts of me that didn't mold to the whims and needs and demands of that person...shattered.  Where am I?

The barriers I've built around me have protected me in some ways, and they've also crushed me in others; Vulnerability is no longer something I give into.  Instead, I strive to be the strongest I've ever been, though it's not a comfortable posture for me.  So what of the discomfort, then?  It is what it is and it will remain because of my will.  It is MY will that allows or disallows what happens to me as a person, a woman, a friend, a lover, a mom... every facet that makes me who I am is ultimately at the mercy of MY will and no other but God's.  His will is ultimate, but my will is His gift to me.  And no, I'm not going off on a religious tangent.  I'm simply taking responsibility for the damage I allowed others to do to me, and also for my inability to completely regain control of the clanging thought-machine inside me that clatters on and on.

It's just one of those days sitting in the midst of one of those weeks in what I now call one of those lives...

I'm dealing with illness because of the unrest and DIS-ease I've felt for so long, with the majority of it beginning when I blindly walked into a situation I didn't want to recognize for what it actually was.  I fell headlong right into the abyss and hit bottom.  Dammit, but I should have had my own back.  I have a good understanding of this NOW and am being diligent, watchful.  And yet, contemplating what my life is now in the wake of the experiences isn't exactly pretty.  Not at all.

Nothing is improving.  My health continues to worsen, and all the tests I've gone through over the past few weeks, all of the tests I'm going through THIS week will tell me where I am in all of this.  While it may not be the best course of action on my part I will wait for the doctors to render their final diagnosis and allow them to push me in the direction I need to go.  I'm so bogged down in near-defeat that I can't seem to propel myself in the right direction.

I will let the current take me.

Screw Circular Logic

All that LOA crap doesn't work the way you think it does, and if you get sucked in too far you will actually be a strong negative influence on other people's lives!  I won't apologize for buying into the whole LOA thing, as it mostly relies on 'duh' statements and circular logic, both of which really mean absolutely nothing, teaches absolutely nothing, and yield's absolutely nothing.  IMHO, the ONLY true form of LOA is being awake!  Get that?  Being awake!

Being awake means you're not walking about with rose-colored glasses on, filtering every thought and deed through a common thought.  Being awake means you SEE, you HEAR, and you act accordingly.

Just because you 'believe' and 'feel good' and are 'positive' doesn't mean you can walk across a busy interstate and make it to the other side unscathed.  Oh, you might die HAPPY and POSITIVE, but you're still going to die!

"You don't feel good because you're happy.  You're happy because you feel good."  Even in the reverse this means exactly the same thing, taking both sides of the argument in this case.  Circular logic or reasoning, or.. false reasoning.

The above is a direct quote from a well-known LOA speaker and 'guru.'  And it's a blatant example of circular logic.  It's easy for people to buy into because it appears simple on the surface.  And guess what?  It IS simple, because it really means nothing at all because it fails to give any information.

I guess I'm ranting on this because I see people on social media posting about this LOA thing, something that turns people into intolerant beasts when they embrace it full-on... which I never did.  It made no sense to me, and it went totally against my Christian beliefs.  That conflict was never going to be left alone to play itself out, like good vs evil, until one or the other won.  Who the hell needs that anyway?  Not me.  I chose my faith and good sense over LOA.

Now, I don't mean to belittle anyone who believes in LOA.  If it works for you, then so be it.  My own beliefs are such that I'm not going to blame people for the bad that's happened to them in their lives, nor am I going to steer clear of people simply because they're struggling with something.  That's just unkind and selfish.

Just freakin' be kind to others, people!

Okay.. hopping off the soapbox....

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.

PART 1: Selfishness as a matter of convenience

Selfishness is a part of all human nature.  When a person believes they're not selfish--they're lying to themselves.  The degree of selfishness matters, as does the reason, because in selfishness.. every detail does matter.  Some selfishness is necessary, and we all know this.  When someone wants you to help them and you have other plans that are 'higher on the proverbial totem pole,' then it's a matter of priorities.  Putting off taking your sick child to the doctor just so you can indulge a friend who needs to rant... is down-right insane.  In the pecking order of things---you simply do not harm another person with your selfishness.

Convenience.  Everyone understands this, right?  I know what it is.  You know what it is.  And this, like selfishness, has a hierarchy in which you determine what is right and what is wrong.  That really should go without saying.

I'm getting to the point here, but I'm also indulging in non-emotional verbiage in order to get control of the raging emotions within.  It's NOT easy, I'll tell you.  Just bear with me for a moment as I attempt to gain a little control here before going off completely.

I've spoken about my health issues, so many of you know some of it is a bit on the scary side.  I don't sit around in fear worrying all of the time about it, but I also don't completely ignore it thinking things will miraculously get better.  The way things are right now I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy.  Truly.  I never thought I could feel this bad.

Today....

Things began in the usual way, with me trying to drag myself through a few mundane tasks and telling myself I'm going to get better, while in the next moment wondering if I can stand even one more day of it all.  Not just the health issues, which are awful, but with this 'relationship' (for lack of a better descriptive word).  I believe a person can deal with just about anything if they have a strong support network (which I don't), and also if their physical environment is conducive to healing  If your living environment is stressful, depressing, hollow, empty, uninspiring... and more, you will have to do some serious magic to pull yourself up and out of whatever awful place you're in, both emotionally and physically/medically.

I have yet another CT w/contrast to go through.  This one is for my lungs, to further evaluate the nodule, the unexplained scarring, etc.  They had to put it off for about 3 months because I had a CT without contrast, which means they couldn't get all the information they needed.  Honestly, it worries me how many of these imaging sessions I've had.  Too many.  But it is what it is.

My pulmonologist's secretary wasn't aware that I had a CT scheduled for the 18th, so when I called about some other test results (that aren't back in yet), she told me that she needed to make the appt for me.  She chose the 9th.  When I sent T a text to let him know when it was, he immediately went to "THAT" place where everything becomes all about convenience.  What it really comes down to are priorities and where I am on that list.  Where am I?...the bottom.

Some appointments I can't drive myself to and from, because they require someone to drive me.  T has an enormous amount of accrued leave time available, about a month actually, and so if he has to take me to an appt, etc., it doesn't do any financial harm, and his boss has already said he needs to use some of that leave.  He volunteered, and now he wants to complain about the dates and times of my appointments.  SO... today I made a decision....

I told T that from now on my appointment will be between HIM and the person setting the appointment.  I'm going to completely remove myself from the process because it seems these appointments are really about my health, but what is convenient for HIM.  What was his response?  "Okay."  He feels pretty good about himself right now.

There's really no other way to take this situation, no other way to see it other than what it EXACTLY is---selfishness in full swing.  Never mind that the doctor says he wants a test or procedure done by a certain time, as soon as possible, etc.  It's not about that... at least to T.  And he refuses to care that the longer these things are put off the longer I will be this sick.  Things are completely out of hand in the world of control freaks.  It's the truth.  And why the F**K do I always end up with control freaks anyway?  Well, it's not been in every relationship---there've been ones in the distant past that weren't like that.

And please, don't make the mistake of equating selfLESSness with buying someone things.  There are FAR FAR greater kindnesses, trust me.  Such as--treating someone with kindness and respect, being there for them when things are bad, listening to them without judgment, and actually putting their health, happiness, etc... ABOVE what's CONVENIENT.

Do you think being sick or dealing with a chronic illness is CONVENIENT for the person who's sick?  HELL NO!  No one wants to be this sick, so sick that they would do ANYTHING to feel better.  NO ONE wants a shitty quality of life.  So when you (using the word "You" loosely here) indulge in the 'This is so inconvenient for me" for me mindset, you're showing your true colors and actually causing harm to the person who's sick.  I mean, if you can't muster any empathy, compassion, or caring, if your give-a-shitter is THAT whacked, then by all means remove yourself from that person's life so they can HEAL!!!

In all honesty, I remember the last relationship I had where I DIDN'T feel as if I were better off alone, and it was a LONG LONG time ago.  Since then, I've usually ended up in a situation that left me feeling like the very best thing for me was to be single, because there was a total absence of health-destroying stress.  And I don't think I have to go on about the levels of stress, the differences between that which motivates and that which can kill.

I can't fix someone's lack of compassion.  I can't explain to them (where they'd get it) that buying something for someone who needs emotional support, love, compassion, etc... only makes themselves feel better.  Because it surely doesn't do a damn thing for the person who's suffering.

No offense to the guys reading this, but... if you're one of those men who find yourself saying "I bought x, y, z for you, so I DO care!"... then you may have a problem.  UNLESS that something you bought actually changed their life long-term.. the way true kindness and compassion does.  Not to say that gifts can't represent compassion, etc.. because they often do.  But you have to pay attention to what that person really needs, what they communicate to you.  Because when you don't, you miss the mark.

I'm angry right now because my situation, my health, etc. isn't being taken seriously by T.  It's damaging, stressful...which makes it more damaging.  "I" take it seriously.  My doctors take it seriously.  But T continues to do things that either undo all the work I've done thus far, or he does things that literally thwarts my efforts.

..... PART 2 will be next.  I have to gather my VERY scattered thoughts at the moment.

Our Own Personal Static

Being present.  It's not always the easiest thing in the world, is it?  I mean, every single human being on this planet has to deal with pulling themselves back from their own personal static.  It's not about being falsely-focused during a conversation, but rather being genuinely interested, connected, even polite.  The static is always there, always real, and it makes us who we are.  In fact, that static of our own thoughts is a simple by-product of a complex intellect.  And we are all participants in self-indulgence, mired in the buzz and whir of, well, thinking.  There's just too much going on in our heads, right?

Wrong.

I can say with confidence that being ignored isn't one of my favorite things, and yet it is a daily energy-suck that refuses to let go of me.  I live with someone who is chronically in the throes of his own personal static.  Honestly, these days I feel like a ghost, invisible, and as if I have absolutely no voice whatsoever.  It's getting to me.

This entry sat in "Drafts" for some time now, and oddly.. it's relevant to what's going on STILL.  I'm personally tired of the static I'm surrounded by in my everyday life here with T.

More on this another time...