I’m on my back in some sort of headlock aka neck stretch, thinking to myself, does she even know her breast is in my ear? I could all but hear her heart beat. It makes me wonder, are they aware of how much contact they have with the patient? All I had to do to look into her sinus cavity was look up. I could just see nose debris falling on my forehead and I tuck and roll right off that bench! I doubt nostril negligence is covered under malpractice insurance. Ridiculous!
When Buttons was my physical therapist, I had to ask him to move stuff off me or tell him his stuff was too close, back up. I can say that to a man . . . not so easy with a woman. Female anger, female confrontation is not something I do well. Enter Robert in protective mode. Continue reading →
Jane remains relatively healthy. She’s 15 but she still loves catnip and paper. She is so funny chasing imaginary things. Her favorite toy is a green fish that she got about 2 years ago. She’s got a decent amount of toys but I only leave a few out at a time to mix it up and keep her interested in them. The other day I got a box in the mail with a bunch of paper, paper being her favorite thing. She put a thousand holes in it and then nested for a bit. Although Janie has claws, she’s not destructive. She doesn’t shred the paper or scratch the furniture or anything like that. The paper gets holes in it because she’s still got her claws.
I keep hearing a little girl cry. It happens every single time I get extremely triggered. I know she’s not really there but I can’t help but go looking for her. It takes a lot to resist the urge to go looking for her.
She can’t do it. She can’t call me by my name. The best thing I ever did leave that family and change my entire name. Changing it gave me a way to buffer their abuse, to separate myself from the burden carried with my birth name. She can’t stand that I’d choose something so positive to call myself. According to her, I’m a host of unmentionables. It was hard to hear past those things and try to figure out what to do and say to calm her down and get her to speak to me like a human being. It was as if I stood before my mother trying to get her to calm down, listen through the insults to figure out what she really wants from me. In the end it just seems like she’s tired, angry and lost.
I picked up the phone with my therapist 30 seconds after my sister told me that I’m a terrible person and not needed. I learned a few things that I didn’t know. I began to question some of what was being told to me by my Aunty S because it didn’t make sense. My sister was forthcoming with information that I wasn’t ready for…another blast! I can’t believe I actually said to my Aunt, thank you for having cared for my mother!!! That is so disgusting, now that I know what really took place, that is so disgusting. And I’m happy I didn’t sit across the table from her and have coffee, yuck!!!
I’m sure I’ll update the blog after therapy but I’ve want to tell myself something.
I need you, Faith, to put your hands back on the steering wheel and keep your eyes on the road. Monday’s physical therapy was horrible and that so-called night of sleep was even worse. You’ve not eaten since Monday, you’re tired and your brain is very close to overload. I need you to put your hands back on the wheel and keep your eyes on the road. Find the closest rest stop and recharge.
A long time ago you said that there were no choices as a child or living with your mother. She owned the street and she made sure it was a dead end where you crashed head first. You aren’t on that street anymore. You got out of her vehicle and into your own, don’t forget how far you’ve gone from that place. Yeah, you want your sister, yeah, she’s upset that you ‘left her behind’ so to speak, but Faith, you did it for a reason. You weren’t a wild youth out to do your own thing. You were a person just trying to survive. Now survival isn’t enough. Your goal is to live. Continue reading →
An owl’s sight is superior to humans because it can see past the nose on it’s face. It can scan an area and see from multiple angles, so why can’t we? Its ears are primed for ultimate hearing, hearing that will give it better perspective. Why can’t we listen to more than the old tapes in our heads? And why can’t we sit lofty in our homes with beauty and splendor? Why do we have to tear each other down and devour one another as if we were wild things? We are not wild things.
You are my sister and we are not wild things,
It threw me for a loop to get that response. There was more flaming anger than I expected. If paper could ignite from the words written then your note would have been devoured by flames. It was palpable, painful, angry.
I have not failed to see your side. I haven’t.
I was flabbergasted to see you write that you have nothing. You have nothing? And then you questioned that there’s anything you have that I need. I am very visual so I could see me standing in front of you with overwhelming anguish and a rage that you’d vomit at me until I fall dead. I mean that letter was stinging. It was a punch I wasn’t ready for, especially after the night I had and the physical therapy session I had, but as we know, life doesn’t just hand us roses because we’re having a bad day.
Eerie gusts of wind made the curtains rumble.
At will the wind blew strong enough to send the curtains flying,
but mostly it caught them and shook out a chilling sound.
Had I not been half in, half out, I would have closed the windows,
but all I did was lay awkward, looking above my head,
at blue curtains lit up by flood lights,
caught in some unearthly grip.
A grip that soon found it’s fingers around my neck.
I clawed at the invisible trying to breathe,
I turned toward the window to catch the next wave to come through,
to gasp it in,
but it was never enough..
The more I struggled the more my chest compressed.
Pillows, covers, clothing were left piled where I wouldn’t stumble.
When every stitch had been discarded I realized it was yesterday sitting on my chest,
And I knew, the incubus of my past had again won the night.
One person’s physical therapy is another person’s torture technique.
PT Black says my neurological system is all out of whack and that it responds to pain even when there isn’t sufficient pressure applied. Yeah, I know that. So, she said she wanted to try something she called ‘sensitizing’. It’s essentially what we do in psychotherapy where we go over a memory that is particularly troubling so that we can take the sting out of it. I did this with Dr D a few times. I’ve also painted nightmares and was able to eventually remove the sting. So, PT Black put her hand, lightly, on the most painful part of my neck and kept it there. My pain level shot up to a 9 and I started to panic.
After a few seconds I had her take her hand off me because I wasn’t able to even think. … I know the technique she’s talking about, however, I wasn’t ready for that, hadn’t planned for it and wasn’t in the mental space for it. What I heard her say was, “I’m going to hurt you and I want you to act like it doesn’t hurt.” “I’m hurting you. I know I’m hurting you, but you’ll get used to it.” ………This moves into territory where there will be flashbacks, there will be issues. My mother’s version was that by visualizing the harm I would be able to handle it better. I spent a lot of time trying to handle her pain better, now I’m trying my best to live despite the pain she caused. Continue reading →
There’s an art piece I labored over posting but that piece got the strongest reaction and ‘sold’ very quickly. The reason sold is in quotes is explainedin a separate entry.
When I looked at the piece I liked it, a lot. I like the texture in the turquoise, I like the way the colors at the bottom came together. I like that painting, but I didn’t think others would. I questioned my abilities because I was viewing other blogs and felt so inferior. I posted it though, and I was surprised by the response both public and through email.
I don’t know if I’ll be the type of artist that puts her work on the net with full confidence, but I will keep taking risks in my art, keep trying new things and keep to the styles and media that I am most comfortable with. I can risk and keep my comfort zone. There’s nothing wrong with a comfort zone, it’s not a bad thing to be comfortable. Continue reading →
I saw this art easel and on Amazon and put it on my wish list. I’d been thinking about it because some stuff is getting harder to accomplish in bed, and not just art. So, I put it on the list and swore to myself that the next time I make a sale I’d purchase the easel. Well, I posted that on Facebook and someone contacted me and said, hey, let me get that for you. I was all like, OMG! Of course I was going to accept but not for free…not for free. I traded an art piece for it which turned out to be a win-win situation.
I look forward to getting this soon. It’s got so many incredible features.
Bed Easel – medical supply
I mentioned that I couldn’t just accept it for free and wanted to barter for it. Ya know, a few days ago I removed the button on my sidebar for voluntary donations. I fretted over putting that up there but desperation took hold and I did. I had a cat in need of a few things, and I knew I was sitting in the middle of the month with less than $10 to my name. It took me until August to finish paying off last winter’s heating bill so yeah, I was feeling a bit desperate, but….. man, I have a really hard time just flat out asking for stuff. I’ve done it before. When I absolutely needed something that would benefit my health I sucked it up and asked for it. I was very grateful to have it, too. I have a beautiful blue heated blanket to ease the pain in my legs. It’s wonderful.
The lady with whom I bartered said to remember her when I become famous. She’ll be disappointed because I have no desire to be famous. I’m shooting for comfortable. My comfortable may not be the same as others. Heck, I know how to shop and I know how to use my limited resources to get my needs met. Other times I have to reach out or others reach to me. That makes me smile. Continue reading →
I talk a lot about tea time but not much about all that it involves. The tea time I’m talking about is my private moment not the tea parties or beautiful tea ceremonies I have with friends.
What I call tea time is a specific time during the day when I slow down, catch my breath and throw off the burdens of the day. At that time I don’t take phone calls, clean the house or manage major life stuff. My tea time is meant to be a time to recharge.