I'm still trying to come to terms with the health scare.
I micromanaged every move for fear it would be my last. I thought about a journal I've lost touch with, a girl who wrote about the "indignity of death." How is she? Where is she? I cleaned my room because no one should have to clean it up. I started to take out the trash but I was tired. Then I thought, if I won't be here tomorrow I should turn off the heat, ya know? I thought about doing my hair then realized it wouldn't matter. I never thought, I need to throw away this or that so no one finds it.
It's 5:05am. I'm back in from walking outside. I took the trash out too. This is bad. I was going into full body spasms again. Big time paranoid, head 100 mph. I took the patch off and took pain meds. I went outside and walked as fast as I could. I am steady when I'm not so medicated. I walked for only 15 min or so. There's a cop that stays at the park.
I can't do this at home unsupervised.
As I walked I could feel my body start to cramp, not seize, but cramp. Then a tiny rain drop hit my nose. Ah, there's a big PART of the problem, the barometric pressure changed. Part of me wishes it would never rain again. But then we'd miss the smell of water on earth. We'd miss how soft it can land on our noses. :-).
I didn't fail. I didn't. I just need more help than I have with ridding my body of the substance that won't even let me walk down the stairs safely.
I was betrayed.
I did exactly as I was told. I was told that if I take opiates exactly as I was told, I would be fine. I'm not fine!
I did not abuse my medication. I did not take more than I was supposed to take. As a matter of fact I was afraid of the medication, because I did not want to be an addict or one with a body dependent on the medication. But here I am 4 years later and I have been hospitalized because of the seizures and the sheer force of my body's refusal to accept that I will not continue to put opiates in it.
They just aren't, some issues are so frightening that even in the line of the sun they are still pitch black, still frightening.
When I painted this child, I did so with full knowledge that she may not sell. I have a problem though, I can't paint gentle art if that's not what's inside. So I did what I do. I painted what I know.
Little Ariel knew it would rain. How does a person with Fibromyalgia and /or Lupus know it'll rain even without turning on the weather report? Our bones tell us. The pain level shoots up high. Our eye sight is affected. Our fingers, lips and toes get cold. The pain level shoots up so high and so fast that it'll double the body over. What's interesting to me is that I'm caught off guard every time.
I hold my side. I'm bending down, seconds from loosing lunch, but it hasn't clicked. I don't understand what's happening to my body. When I try to get to the car I see its sprinkling, raining or even light snow. Now it makes sense. Finally I realize the weather system has changed and that has affected my pain, my complexion, fingers, lips, eyes and my ability to think rationally. It's as if I've been sucked in and can't see my way out.... but not so fast. I can see my way out. ...continue reading "Some Things Aren’t Easy to Look At"
UPDATE - A positive update hasn't been written yet. Please remember that my emotions are all over the place as I come off of Percocet 10-325mg for a legitimate health issue. I'm spent.
This is true - he said that fms is a chemical response. That is a true statement. FMS is a chemical embalance. I have known that for a good long time but how dare I say it with just a city college education? Doctors don't listen to each other let alone me.
Fear causes a chemical response. Depression, joy, arousal, pain. The body has to process these chemicals correctly or you are screwed. That's a very simplistic way to explain it. When he said it to me I about fell over because I've believed it for a long time. PTSD can jack up your adrenal system something fierce because of the flood of adrenaline all the time. The body was never meant to be abused, especially by its own chemical make up and system of nerves. ...continue reading "My emotions are raw – POSITIVE UPDATE"
Look, things have been going down hill for awhile. I've felt like my last breath is only half a breath away. Sadly, each day is worse than the last, yet I'm still here. I don't want to be.
I went to see a new doctor today, a guy who ranks in the top 500 in the state. He says he can help me. I didn't say anything. He told me I need to do physical therapy. He said you need to lose 130 pounds. I laughed out loud, apologized then said, please, go on. He said I want you to work with our nutritionist and to join a gym. He said, it'll only cost you $10 a month.
I look at the drawing called "The Hide" and question how much I should reveal concerning it's symbolism. I'm sure if viewed long enough it will interpret itself without me or anyone else having uttered a word. However, if one word were to wrap up how I felt as the ink crossed on paper, that word would be vulnerable. Vulnerable is the dominant emotion felt when I display art that expresses Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and Dissociative Identity Disorder.
My heart sinks with each intricate line that builds a fortress from the inside out. Figure after figure emerges with each level of lines. Though the staircase would appear to lead down to the central black figure, in my mind it leads up. The figure is in a fortress of her own making, and that fortress is..... I'm not sure how to end the sentence.
I remember she was resigned to living but not dedicated to it. This Faith had a better attitude about her situation than I have. She was willing to look past the imperfections of others and willing to be wrong if it meant the other person had time to cool down. Though her body was failing quickly she was the strongest she'd ever been.
A year ago I flashed this photo. It's only been a year.
In that year her heart was stolen. How amazing is that?
That Faith planned on doing what her friends do, hold free personal Bible studies online through applications like Skype.
She was very well aware of what her body was doing but she wasn't aware of the emotional destruction caused by physical deterioration. That reality hit when the next big change forced itself center stage - a blood clot in the shoulder, close to the neck after an injury.
She's been a long time coming. I don't know why it took so long to finish her but, here she is. I present to you, 'Sweet Anna Bell - Ugly Girl.'
Scribbled on the back of the paper she's painted on dated June 10, 2013, I wrote:
She's tall, skinny and lanky. She's wearing second hand clothes and second hand shoes. She knows she's ugly. She doesn't need to be reminded, yet they do, as if somehow it'll change things. Sweet Anna Bell - Ugly Girl.
Verbal abuse is what that is and what this sweet child holds the bruises of. But notice this, her eyes look up, not down in shame. If you look at them closer you'll notice hope shining. She holds her head up. She hopes. The edges of her mouth turn up in a slight smile. She hopes. ...continue reading "Sweet Anna Bell – Ugly Girl"
A fire white butterfly with wings wide open spans 4 inches on rich earth tone colors. Wine, turquoise, gold, burnt umber and a touch of burnt orange makes the butterfly really pop off the 5 x 7 canvas board. The wings have been tipped with powder blue and edged with gold.
Texture. Texture is key to this piece. I handmade the stamps that created the texture. By layering stamps with acrylic paint I was able to get a blend of colors that's not too much and not too little.