12 painful stairs to a tiny room. Each step felt like I couldn't cry any more than I did one step earlier. I made it up the stairs and laid on the air mattress with a slow leak and asked myself, "is it worth it?" can't I just stop taking meds and let nature take its course in a matter of days? Then the real me took a breath! I was reminded that this is very temporary. I'm with friends who, though of humble means truly love me. And honestly, I'd rather be here than in a nursing home with workers who like me but who don't do half of what they should.
The latest drama / trauma is that my insurance won't preauthorize the blood thinner medicine. Long story short, I have to travel every single day to get a shot at a clinic bc it's the only way my insurance will administer the arixtra shot. If I get it outside the clinic it'll be $1200 every two weeks! I've been traveling 4 hours daily for a one min shot at the cancer and hematology center. I'll do this daily until insurance figures this out.
Today I got a hold of some good CBD oil and something else I forget the name of. I spent $155 on the oil, pen and pure something or other. I can't remember the name. The white powder requires heat, thus the pen, but the hemp oil does not use heat. I started both today and intend to continue them so as not to so heavily lean on the major pain killers given to me.
Getting back to my living situation, less room with love makes me feel cramped but not suicidal. The pain and insurance ordeal made me question going on. I know I will ask again, why go on? Again I'll have an answer. I really want to live.
This isn't going to be easy here bc my room is up 12 stairs and I've got literally 5 feet by 3 feet of living space. This won't be easy but if I keep things in perspective, if I remember I have hope then I can do this, too.
I'll let myself cry and crumble. I'll let myself ask why, but I won't let myself give up.
I'm trying not to let it eat me up. I know it'll be difficult and emotionally painful, but I don't want it to rule me.
It's funny, I picture myself dancing again. I picture myself bending down to pick up moss, walking through grass down to the water line. I can see myself functioning w just part of my leg and foot but I don't know if I'll ever get over the loss. I don't think I'll cry everyday for years or anything, but I can't see me "getting over it". I think the pain of this loss will stay but that the depression associated with it will fade into the background. ...continue reading "On losing more"
I am not one who can handle a lot of physical stimulation. I didn't want to be touched. Movement and sound scare me. However, in a vulnerable state I have had to allow things to happen even if I didn't think I could handle it.
Since being at the hospital I've allowed people who resemble my abusers to give intimate care. I've allowed African American men and women to remove the gown, adjust my legs as needed then wipe my intimate parts in front and back. I have had full bed baths and depends changed or had procedures that required mostly nudity. I had to allow it.
From where I'm laying, I generally can't see the entire person, and I can't get up. I am vulnerable and require their clean intentions. Not a single inappropriate comment has taken place. They have been respectful and put me at ease.
At one point a Doctor was asked to wait 2 min while the Techs finished my gown because credentials don't buy rights to my dignity either. I appreciated him waiting.
I was terrified at first. Someone had their hands between my legs, spread them, and I had to allow it. I was angry. I didn't sleep a lot. But as the positive, safe experiences continued, confidence grew, with unexpected healing as a result.
A lot of tea sipping, a lot of sleep, that's what's been going on over here.
Anxiety is very high as are my pain levels. I've got an open sore on my leg that hasn't healed in three weeks times so I have to get more treatment for it. That doesn't worry me though maybe it should. It's just that I've not been given any kind of off colored diagnosis so I'm like, it is what it is. I have Lupus, I don't heal well. It takes weeks to heal a simple wound. It would be nice if it didn't hurt so much but like I said, at this point it's just taking its own sweet time healing and hasn't morphed into something else. ...continue reading "Cuppa. Sleep. Work. I’m Better."
I read to him the entry I wrote about being angry with him. I then assured him I will not lie to him about feeling suicidal or depressed. I need to trust him and he needs to trust me.
I cried from open to close of the session. It's been a hard day physically and emotionally. I had to take pain medication because of spasms in my legs and stomach. I tried to manage as long as I could without pain meds but after a bit it's reasonable to take a dose to ease things up. I also took some of my Passion Flower tincture to help ease anxiety associated with pain. I'm surprised I was able to stay awake for the session. ...continue reading "Therapy review: What I need to hear"
I've slept most of this day. I just couldn't wake up. The time awake hasn't been pleasant. I feel depressed about finances, worried a bit.....a lot. I think that's my anxiety right now, finances. I'm trying not to worry, trying not to let it fill my head but it does.
Tomorrow I'm going to pick up some stuffing so I can finish up some dolls I've been sewing. A couple are for sale, a couple are for donation. I was thinking, since art is slow going right now, maybe I should focus on dolls more. There's currently one art doll in my Etsy shop. ...continue reading "Worry and anxiety. Life as I know it."
Clyde is needy, so am I. He too jumps at the slightest noise. Even though he's anxious, he's protective of me.
He knows what it means when alarms go off 4 times a day. Two of those times he's going to eat, which he loves to do.
He's such a good boy, gentle yet playful and easy to please. I can't believe how much he loves tennis balls. In this photo he's looking all sad and pitiful bc we weren't playing ball in the rain. Lol He was happy inside the house when I unwrapped his new chew bone. 🙂
I'm hesitant to publish work like this because of the dark lines and how packed it is, full of images, but it represents my head in an accurate way. It shows the full, always thinking, always moving, nearly manic thought processes inside my head. Why would I hesitate to post that type of truth in art but feel free to do so in words? I don't fear any kind of judgement with words I use. I don't expect anyone to tell me to lighten up or make my words pretty, but I can't seem to forget those who have told me to do that with my art.
Posting it is a way of shutting up the negativity in my head. I like this piece. I like the activity in it. I like the color against the black. I like the twists in it. I like the orange and I like the hidden people at the top, on the left side and at the bottom. I'm posting it and my head can just shut up about it! ...continue reading "See Volumes. Art Confidence."
The medical doctor suggested that Gabapentin withdrawal, not Lyrica is the culprit and that perimenopause is also playing a part in this emotional and medical crisis. She made some suggestions to improve the terrible mood swings such as Dong quai and Black cohosh. The University of Maryland explains why I chose to use Black cohosh despite possible weight gain. Again, I've chosen the lesser of two evils.