anything that can go wrong will.
The dog is doing well.
Crochet Trial 2
Adjectives were used, many adjectives were used to increase the negative impact of my words and emotions as I fought with the hook and yarn. I looked more like a chimpanzee playing the drums than I did an artisan.
Yes, adjectives and then breathing. I took a time out to breath and get myself in order. These times are different. My brain functions differently after a stroke. I learn through a cloud, a thick cloud.
I have poor eye sight and poor hand eye coordination making crochet rather difficult. But just like before the stroke, I can do the first row all day but I can’t turn. Ridiculousness!
I want to learn certain art forms I can do even if I’m indisposed physically or visually.
Pup Pup is down for the count. He had to go to the dentist for extractions so he’s an unhappy camper right now. Poor guy.
My caregiver won an award for being an outstanding employee. I got a nod for being the client which is significant because others couldn’t work with me but she walked in and nailed it! No call offs. Comes to work on time every day!
Deep breath. There’s much more to do.
With hope
Faith Magdalene
April 4th. Hope.
I was able to get the new apartment but I no longer believe this is going to stop because I move. It’ll just be on a different playing field.
My new home will bring better neighbors than the horrific individuals I live by right now. It has a more home like feel to the building instead of here which looks like an institution with long, horrible hallways that get worse with each step. It’s truly Stephen King.
At the new place I’ll have to work on the legal aspect of things. I’ll start a new page of my life, where he’ll mess around and find out.
I have every intention of living quietly. I pray for peace. I pray for wisdom and the right words at the right time. I pray for prayer. Yes, that I remember to keep praying because it is my lifeline, my hope.
The scenery will change, and I need that. The neighbors will change, and I need that. But there’s nothing that says this guy is going to let me go this easily, just move out. He thinks he owns me. He harasses me daily. He has harmed me daily is all I can say. This man is either going to harass me there or I’ll never live in that apartment at all due to violence on my person before I get there.
I’ve asked for police help and got hung up on. #RafaelSanchez is someone here in the city I tried to contact, with no success. But that’s all here not at the new place. It WILL be different there. It’s not hopeless. The move is a positive step towards figuring out what on earth is going on with this person who has been openly stalking me for a year now.
I know two things
A person trying to be helpful gave me a word to describe my situation. I thought it was legitimate and not a delusional disorder for the love of Pete! The man contacted me via social media and said it’s gangstalking. I thought he was trying to be helpful.
Here’s the two things I know for a fact!
1. My upstairs neighbor started harassing me by stomping on the floor, then his behavior escalated. I’m afraid of him and his two friends. He’s stalking and harassing me.
2. None of this is about art sales, as was suggested. Art is helping me survive it, like it has helped me survive so many other things.
Art is my go to coping skill. When stressed it’s natural for me to produce more artwork and post it right in the middle of the ongoing issue. These are my coping skills. I’m taking a Saturday crochet class. Pray for me. Lol. I’ve got to learn.
Faith Magdalene
A Little Light
The phone rang and it was Mark. I thought, how strange but I picked up. He said, “XYZ Apartments Called. You’re at the top of the list. They said to call them.”
I was thrilled and very pleased with my God because at the very moment of the phone call I’d been packing my apartment. Yes, pulling art off the walls and packing to move. I knew in my heart I was going somewhere. I didn’t know where but I did know He wouldn’t let me down.
Ì was packing when I got the call for the interview which is next week. The move would be at the end of next month. This gives me time to buy a bed in a box and get rid of this horrific hospital bed that failed in several ways. I’m ready for one mattress on a metal box spring. Easy! I found one that’s 18 inches off the ground. The idea would be storage.
Even if this apartment slips away, my application has been approved by two other complexes. There’s light at the end of this tunnel.
My CNA will help me pack. We’re going to use moving bags, totes and only a few cardboard boxes.
Faith Magdalene
Pink Crocs vs Amputee
I’ve been wearing my shoe without that so called prosthetic I hate so much. It seemed to be going just fine. No issues, or so I thought. Lol
As it turns out a well established spider web was in the toe of my pink cross. There was a small piece of cereal in the web, Lucky Charms. I’m not making this up.
I wasn’t sure what to feel. I was horrified, intrigued, humored and humiliated; simultaneously. I’ve decided to go ahead and do what the surgeon said is an alternative to wearing the prosthetic. I’m stuffing my left shoe. All left shoes get stuffed. I am not walking around with a spider housing addition at my stump. It’s wrong.
The little picture in the photo is a very, very old white sketch on top of encaustic art. I melted Crayola wax, slowly and moved it into position. I enjoy encaustic and print making very much.
Faith Magdalene
A Better understanding
I was given the name of the particular type of stalking I continue to experience.
It’s a rough road bc some people don’t understand what they can’t readily see. There are many with power in my life who do believe it: Dr D, CICOA, my care company, my CNA. There are also elders at the Hall that believe me.
I’m working on moving OUT! with Van Gogh to at two bedroom apartment. Why a two bedroom? Well, I have to tell you something. I’m stage 3 kidney disease now. If kidney Dialysis is necessary my hope is to learn how to do it at the hospital, come home and do it with my aide with the dedication second bedroom.
Here’s funny face at the dentist. He’s so adorable. Hard to believe he was only 5 months ago, a street dog.
Faith
Mental Health Patient Targeted
It’s difficult to believe the word of a person with paranoia but it shouldn’t always be the case. Please keep in mind that the world is a weird place and a violent one. It doesn’t leave people exempt from problems.
Doctots get sick. Lawyers go to prison. Prostitutes get raped. Paranoid people get prayed upon. We are not exempt because of our diagnosis.
What’s happening to me is real and unbearable. I need help.
Finally Together
Mason Jacob Austin III aka Jake is the new fur baby.
He’s about 8 yrs old. He’s a terrier mix. Quiet, reserved, so far I mean. I’m happy he’s here. I’m happy he gets on my lap well as we return from the restroom.
The 333 rule is being applied to him and me. I have to get used to the change. Mostly friends are supportive. Doctors are supportive, especially Dr D.
Getting him to walk beside the wheelchair was simple. He’s smart as a whip. Getting through doors is a nightmare especially the turn. However, I remember when a different wheelchair user first got a dog. He went through the same trouble, publicly, trying to find a way to train the dog and not look like a person in a chair who’s in over their head and won’t work their way out. Like my neighbor and his dog , Jake and I will be ok.
I’m so prideful. Afraid of failing but sure I wont. I’m a newish wheelchair user with her first dog. My how the world keeps changing. I’m here for it!
Tails. Art. Tea. Happy.
African American Female Clown
More than a clown is about a once voiceless woman, alone in the dark with her makeup. She was just a clown. She painted on faces until finally someone believed believed she’s more than a clown.
Then hope set in. Flowers began to grow, birds sing their morning songs and bumblebees bring in more life. Yes, change, all around her. There’s hope now that she herself believes she’s more than a clown.
Please see my Etsy shop for purchase details. www.Sundrip.etsy.com
Faith Magdalene Austin at Sundrip