Lord, iI’m having hot flashes again, several an hour. And I’m itching. And I’m even more fatigued. I sure hope I don’t go back to anger overdrive because I stopped using Delta 8. I won’t be medicated nice anymore.
I was at a restaurant the other day and a woman said she was tired and asked if she could sit on my lap. I told her the chair is one of necessity not of convenience. She apologized then went on. I was highly irritated!! Perhaps more than I should have been. Even now it still sends me! I guess I’m just over here chillin’ sitting down resting.
Hopefully during this particular hormonal shift of hot flashes I’ll get to bypass the worst of my attitude and just stick to the physical thrashing of Menopause!
People do not get to put down life changes just because of medical difficulties.
I think I understand something about my wheelchair. I’m proud to use my manual wheelchair because I SURVIVED to use it. So in my head it’s a symbol of strength, not weakness. But to most of the world I’m just handicapped.
Maybe I’m just a girl in a wheelchair at a Vietnamese restaurant whose lap you can sit on if you’re tired?
I wish that hadn’t hurt so bad. There’s a lot of prayer to be done. I have to let this go.
I recently purchased a new dress for the first time in over 30 years. I’d been wanting a kaftan so I purchased a pink tie dye kaftan. That got the ball rolling and lead to dress number 2.
When I was a child I didn’t wear much white because I tend to wipe my hands on my clothes, but unfortunately my family attached my worth to the color white. Here’s what I mean –
In 1992 I was getting ready for a function so I was ironing my white skirt and blouse. As I ironed, my sister kept walking past me saying, “Whore. Whores don’t wear white.” My mother and she were cruel. They wanted me to feel low and loathsome.
My sister was truly a piece of work. I got married in white and I could hear her evil words on that day, too. Fast forward to 2022. Not only am I older, I’m mad now.
I’m upset that my family attempted to harm me in whatever way seemed good. I was shamed so terribly over getting white dirty. It was always such a big ordeal. Living in the house with those two, I knew I was out numbered.
Recently I’ve been trying to reclaim a few colors associated with abuses. I’d been working on yellow for a while. I can say with pride that I have successfully reclaimed the color yellow and restored it to its proper place; next is white.
I’ve been tossing this idea around for a bit. It’s finally coming to fruition. I purchased a long, solid white Kaftan…..to paint in… to purposely wipe my hands on and get it all covered lol. Then of course I thought, what about shoes? So in February I’ll get a pair of knock-off, high top Converse, white for about $20. Converse right now are $115. I’m not trying to make that expensive of a point. Lol
Where the label on the shoe should be, I’ll put a sunflower. To tie the whole statement together, I’ll toss in a white dreadlock wrap and some hoop earrings.
I’m going target a few areas where I have unresolved issues such as over the heart, the lungs and the tassels at the bottom.
Colors of significance will include deep shades of purple bc the purple survivors ribbon is for Lupus, Domestic Violence and Dementia. All of these have touched my life significantly.
I don’t know when I’ll say the dress is “finished”. I do know I’ll wear it around the house to paint in. My paints are permanent and vivid.
A bit of irony – the dress arrived very wrinkled. I absolutely have to iron it before I put it on.
The rest of life is as troubled and discombobulated as everyone else. I’m taking it day by day. I find the world increasingly difficult to manage. I’m worried about the havoc politicians will reek on their world playground during elections. I’m not looking forward to racism being encouraged. Thank goodness I don’t understand the joy people feel when “sticking it” to someone else. But they love it.
While living in excessively violent times, politicians gleefully spit rhetoric to inflame groups and turn people against each other. It’s like it’s a billionaire’s game where the one with the most casualties wins.
Other than that, the frogs are great and so is Joe. The jumping spider is doing well. My CNA situation is “interesting”.
I’m a bit lonely right now though I see people regularly.
Rumination is pretty bad still. My emotions get intense but not like months ago. Sleep is too much or too little. Appetite is zero still, and last but not least menopause is kicking my butt.
At least I’m not as reactive and emotional as I was. I can catch myself sometimes, before I start, but it can be difficult to stop once started. I feel shame because I don’t feel I have the control needed to maintain interpersonal relationships. I’m worried about it. We’re still tweaking medication though.
What an exciting few weeks. I went from mourning my old CNA to getting a new one with whom I am very well matched. Having her means I can let her do some things and leave other things to me. I can keep up with my letter writing and other forms of reaching out to people. And I can keep up with my artwork.
My goal was to re-open my Etsy shop but I’m not ready for that. I can paint and sew but right now I need to wait a little while longer. I’m ready to do the art, I’m not ready for the stress of opening up the shop and getting stuff out on time. The goal is to do so but at this time there is no tentative date.
I’m pleased that rumination has decreased, which makes thinking much easier. The depression is better under control, and my physical health is holding steady. Concentration is crap. It’s awful but at least I’m completing things even as I bounce from project to project. I have zero concentration any more.
Anxiety is wicked. I’ve changed up how I do my Delta-8 so that it will help with anxiety more and kick in sooner. Sadly there isn’t any guidance on this. It’s trial and error, but at least it’s still federally legal and the cost is still within my means.
THC brownie bites
I baked refrigerator dough cookies and brownies. I cut them into dose sizes then dripped liquid THC over the top of the goodies. Works like a charm. It can be done with THC butter, too.
THC cookie bites
My metabolism is deathly slow which is why it takes 2 hrs for a bite size edible to kick in. It lasts up to 5 hours though.
Pain is not my friend. Anxiety isn’t either, but the depression and physical pain is significantly less, which has raised my quality of life. I’m still a bit reactive but not even close to how I was. Eating is a chore but that is getting better, too.
Wow. Food prices! No matter how much food costs increase, my budget for food has not. It’s been stuck at $200 a month for a while now with no sign of change any time soon. I’m blown away by food prices. I’ve been trying to see where I can clip pennies but I’m not sure where anymore. Perhaps it’s not totally a bad thing that I have zero appetite. Amazon Fresh is so high right now that it’s straight up robbery!
Menopause – well, I haven’t gone to jail yet. A terrible hot flash at least once an hour. Decreased ability to handle stress. I click on people! An Amazon employee had me so frustrated that I asked to speak with someone else. She said, who? “I said, I don’t care, anyone but you.” I really wish I didn’t say that to her.
So, things are progressing in a manner I couldn’t see 6 months ago. I want to remember that even in the worst circumstances, everything changes. And since I am involved and invested in life, chances for positive change is strong.
I’m happy I lived long enough to truly believe and trust that things change. Youth doesn’t provide enough life experience to fully grasp that things change for the better and you can move past what feels impossible. I wish my brother could have understood that.
I bought a second sketchbook that’s small and easy to take with me if / when I leave the house. It’s also easier to hold in bed. And for the first time in a good long time, I had to buy art supplies. I was able to get ahold of the paint needed so I’m happy with that.
Right now I’m making the art supplies area more disability friendly.
Symptoms of the clinical depression (my nervous breakdown) significantly decreased but have crept up again. After my aide left, a person with whom I felt safe) abandonment issues began to derail me. At least this time I know better than to wait to see if the depression, anxiety, etc will get better. I immediately began using the skills I’ve learned in the last year so as to never revisit that horrible-for-everyone, deep, hollow place.
I remember thinking that everyone has an invisible line that represents a division between coping and totally losing it. It feel like as long as I don’t cross that line I’ve still got hope of getting better. Well I blew past that line and had no way on my own to get back. I couldn’t reach inside and pull up strength because I was hollow. There was nothing to pull from. I couldn’t even stop or control the emotions anymore. I felt stranded in the middle of the open sea.
I’m not where I was last time but some of the symptoms are troubling. The decline began shortly after being triggered by the loss of a CNA I felt safe with. Right now I am regrouping and using new skills so I don’t again completely fall to pieces.
I’m grateful for art. I can’t believe I did that mental health crisis with very little art. I had no way to redirect anxiety so it felt like it just sat inside eating away at me.
My included art piece shows individuals with solid black skin. I noticed the color of the shirts as being significant. The person who reflects my current state is wearing an orange shirt. I don’t think I’ve drawn my sister, me and my mother together in at least 5 years. This time it’s definitely all three of us, with me in the orange shirt with one foot and extra long arms.
When I looked at the chart created to record color significance, I could see a bit more into what I’m actually feeling. Come to find out, it’s very much representative of what’s going on in my life right now and what I’ve been thinking about.
The Art Therapy gallery explains color and symbol significance.
Orange: Fleeting courage or self doubt, ambiguity,
Purple: Self worth, pride
Black: Emptiness, vacant, does not exist, emotional death
Red: Strength, courage, empowered
My mother has been on my mind quite a bit because of my menopause symptoms. I remember seeing some of this as a kind.
I remember one winter my mother only wore a long, thin, black trench coat (it was the 80s ok) despite the fact that it was freezing cold. Several years later she had it so cold in the house that I wore a jogging suit to bed. Fast forward to 2022. The heat is still off. I had no idea menopause would be so life disruptive. My friend said her severe covid was easier than menopause. Wow.
Lastly, I did finish stealing the art piece but I’ve not put new art up for sale. I’m not certain I’m ready for that step just yet. I’m just going to keep at the art while working on emotional issues.
