Author: F.Magdalene

Faith Magdalene's Sundrip, formerly SUNDRIP Art for Life, is a site that expresses in every media possible an intimate look into the life of a person living with major trauma. The issues addressed in art and writing include Dissociative Identity Disorder, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Lupus and CRSD. Despite these issues, I intend to move forward, through and out with honor, grace and creativity.

Lupus: Destruction. New Home

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Evevn though I’m not over here actively dying of kidney disease I’m kinda flipping out about it. With Lupus the most precious organs you have are the kidneys, lungs and heart. Lupus is going to attack them!

The only thing wrong with my heart is the right branch bundle block and the left bundle block. No artery disease. No failure.

I have three times tested for difficulties with my liver which means I’ll soon see the specialist.

Things are yucky right now. Day after day of yuck. Lupus rolls through damaging whatever is in its path.

Thursday is the move! The place I’m moving to has an entire care system. They have :

  • Independent Apartment Living (me)
  • Assisted Living
  • Nursing Home

There’s a transition program in between Assisted Living and Nursing Home but I don’t remember what it is.

I llike the idea of being set up with a very nice health system on the side of town where a big part of my support system lives.

I hope things go well here. I’m looking forward to a new home.

Faith Magdalene

The Damage. The Appreciation.

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My kidneys are weak but not dead. That’s great news. I’m drinking 64oz of water a day, doctor’s orders. As long as I add a bit of fruit to the water I really don’t mind at all.

I’m in a decent amount of pain because of the inflammation and the rash associated with kidney disease. Who knew the skin could be affected so negatively when the kidneys go down hilll? My back has a nice rash and my legs get so dry that I flake like Tony the Tiger. It’s not great!

There’s been zero art. I look forward to painting in the new place. The new place will also bring two new caregivers because the one I liked so much wasn’t able to continue. In the new place I’ll have a female in the morning and a male aide in the evening. After him I’ll have a person for five hours until midnight. I have overnight care. They’ll lock the door and return in 9 hours.

All that so I can live independently. I appreciate it.

Now for tea.

Crochet Trial 2

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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.

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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

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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

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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

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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

Mental Health Patient Targeted

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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

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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.