and so we find ourselves here

seems like life will never be the same again. while this started out looking a lot like the flu, it spreads infinitely easier and has a much higher death rate (over 5% here in the US as a whole). and the thing about clotting in the younger patients. THAT scares the crap out of me. ebola caused you to bleed out. covid-19 causes you to clot and they have NO idea why. having a stroke and NOT dying buy also not going back to baseline (think semi-sided paresis, or in normal words, one-sided weakness) is my biggest health fear. while i am actively dying, i can handle someone wiping my ass. with MANY years ahead alive, but so infirmed, no thank-you.

i really want to go and help. but i am not an ICU nurse. i am a med-surg nurse at best. and while i think i could do a lot of good as a hospice nurse in hospitals where almost no one makes it out, it is not a priority. and i get it. equipment is scarce (thanks trump white house) and risk is high (no one wants a coworker to get sick, let alone die.) those on the front line don’t want others risking their health either.

so, i sit, hoping one the agencies that i sighed up with will want me. i promise to be careful. VERY careful. i don’t want to die. even more i do not want to risk those around me. i got an email from Patrick asking me to be careful, not to rush in, “just thinking of how much you give of yourself if you are in a position to help others”. he said he didn’t want to go to DC to see my name on a memorial of those who died taking care of those with covid-19. it was terribly sweet. it was nice for someone to notice how much i want to help people. i had a friend, who wasn’t really a friend, say to me once that “for most people when they help you they want something, not you, you really just want to help them”. and yet it made me sad. for someone to know me so well but not want to be with me anymore. it leaves this hole because you are not really known by anyone. at least it makes me feel alone. it was SUPER sweet though. feels better to have received it than not be seen at all. it was SO nice of him to think of me that way and be concerned for me. i suppose that really is love.

but i hate sitting. i asked FB what i could do. people were stunned that none of the hotspots wanted me. it makes sense to me though. i even offered myself to the ME office in NYC (i have a friend in the forensic lab who has been 100% morgue for at least 2 months). i can deal with dead bodies, no really. bodies with yuckiness. do it all the time (fungating tumors are not a pretty thing). but i don’t think that made sense to them. i tried to sign up with Meals on Wheels. i drove for them in nursing school. until i was going to school everyday. but they aren’t orienting anyone new because of the stay-at-home orders. it is too much of a risk. which i get. i did do a shift at the central texas food bank this week. we packed 5000 meals that afternoon! and i plan to do it again. but they don’t have a lot of openings either. all sorts of people are volunteering. there was a mom with her two kids there. i thought that was BRILLIANT on her part. a way to get them out of the house, where they are probably losing their minds, AND help.

i have NOT been sewing masks. i sew for pleasure. i don’t want to sew for purpose. i don’t want to have people asking me to make them masks. i had several coworkers text me and ask if i could make them a mask. when i said i wasn’t making them, they were perplexed. they asked why, “i mean, you love to sew”. and i said that is why. just like my baking, i want it to be a pleasure, not a chore where i have to make other people happy. i have posted a picture on my most recent Gertie’s B6556 dress (a 50s Butterick pattern) below. it has space kitties on it. and i am making aprons for christine and i. they have sarcastic patches in the style of Simplicity patterns from the 50s. a pocket has never been so challenging. but i blame to poor instructions. it is an “easy” pattern but i swear they leave words out of the instructions.

space kitty dress!
close up on space kitty fabric!

my understanding of the meaning of life has been, “we are born, we live and then we die” for a VERY long time. and certainly part of it is being single for so long, but it seems the “we live” part should be helping other people. i get to live this middle-class life. there are so many fortunate things in my life. so, why wouldn’t i spend the rest of my time helping others? i certainly do things for myself (i am looking at you shoe collection), but isn’t what makes meaning is helping others. i am not talking mother teresa level helping. i do not want to forsake the comforts i have earned. but what else am i going to do besides sit around and read WAY more books than i should be. the equivalent of staying home and playing video games. i have the time and energy to help others, so what else would i do but help. Mr. Rogers said “When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, “Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.” i want to take away fear. that is why i am a hospice nurse. what could be more meaningfully and rewarding than taking some of the fear and unknown out of death?

though i am aware some people are afraid of me. afraid what i will say next. how i will react. a skill i SO wanted NOT to learn but did. and i realize it is a double edged sword. people want me on their side because i will fight for them. but they don’t like it when i am on the other side. they like my help. they do not like when i am expecting something from them to help someone else. maybe patrick felt i was always going off and helping other people instead of helping us. i certainly felt that way about my dad and his job.

one of the things people know me for is my red lipstick. i always have my tarte fire lipstick on. well, in this day and age of face masks i had to find a way for people at work to know it was me! so i added some lips to my face mask (with mgmt approval!) i amuse people.

all masks, all day!

i bake a lot. to keep myself busy at home, i have been baking and sewing a lot. and planning projects around the house. it is pretty good at keeping me busy. and i know how lucky i am to be able to go to work. but there are sad days when i cannot even get out of bed to take my meds. and good days, where i am happy with what i have created or accomplished. but those good days aren’t getting as satisfying. and i know it is partly because Lucy and i would have been doing this together, but we are not. and part of it is just being single and alone with two cats who drive me NUTS! but i am alive, healthy and still working. so, that is pretty cool too.

wearing my horns

bad things are happening at work. we are closing half the bldg because they are putting apartments up next door and it is going to be loud and dusty. upper mgmt waited too long to deal with it and, for the time being, we have no where to go. so, our hours were cut by 1/3 and we were offered to “pick-up shifts with home team” which is NOT what we all signed up to do. i have a lot of holiday so i can not work and still make my minimum income. gonna have to get better at being good financially.

but another horrible thing happened recently. they fired our best unit clerk. they fired him because of stupid shit. and they still employee the unit clerk who sucks. who doesn’t do anything right. at this point, all she has to do is answer the phone and she doesn’t even do that. we are crushed. they have nailed the final coffin into morale at the office. we take care of the dying! why would you take one of the most joyful people away from us? the only clerk that does their job right?

my therapist is going to go nuts. she wants me to quit SO bad. we talked about other things i could do. i just want to take care of people at EOL (end-of-life). it is so meaningful. i meet amazing people, and families and hear incredible stories. no other nursing has been as satisfying. but HACH is the only inpatient in austin. sadness. had a weird case recently too. a man on bilateral VADs (ventricular assistive device). normally, you only have them on the left, but he had them on both sides. and he decided to turn them off. i didn’t turn them off. the VAD nurse did. but i was there. i pushed meds that made him comfortable as it was done. it was weird. i have never been part of such an active decision death. does that make sense? my boss said, “closest we have to death with dignity in texas”. i agreed. it was still, odd. but his wife was there and that is what he wanted. so we supported it. and the VAD nurse said she wants all her pts to die at HACH, because we take such great care and it is such a beautiful place. but not to the staff.

i am doing more this year. not staying home and reading as much. i am going to Dallas at the end of March for the Oddities Expo there (lovely booth girl for Morbid Curiosity), doing a ghost tour with booze (though not for me), cheese and fruit plates at Victoria’s Black Swan Inn in San Antonio, Cruel World Festival in LA in May, ghost hunting in Galveston at the end of May, Bauhaus in July, more oddities festivals in August, PopCats and maybe even World CatCon in August. susan and i may go to vegas in late September. then, to end the perfect goth season, Einstürzende Neubauten on Halloween in Philadelphia (where i will also, FINALLY, go to the Mutter Museum!) so, yeah, trying to get out more. though, i am doing a lot of it alone.

i am enjoying myself, but tired of being alone doing it. i did look SUPER cute tonight!

going to Retro Rage at elysium tonight. this is a Vixen by Micheline Pitt dress i got on super sale from pinupgirl clothing. it is really thick through the middle. LOTS of material. so i pinned it back. 
horns are my regular ones. don’t let them out much though. felt cute. 
(glad to have curlable hair back!)


so, the float was interesting. we will see how i feel tomorrow. the time went by faster than i expected. i thought i would get fidgety like when i have tried meditation. i didn’t. my body aches, but the said that often happens the first couple of times. my mind wasn’t racing, which i was very worried about. the fact that you float without having to do anything is weird. maybe i got salt water in my ears? i hate the ocean but this water was nice. of course it was clean and body temperature. it was a little cold when i opened the pod and got out. and i generally only wash my hair once every week and a half or so, so i have to deal with my hair now. i am hopeful that a few more tries will result in something truly helpful and not just lovely.

my car lease expires 12/21

i want to say i feel better financially but that is just asking for trouble. they are building apartments on the property next to HACH. our bosses didn’t start dealing with it early enough, but i will also say the solutions they have tried to put into place have fallen apart, through no fault of their own. BUT, because demolition and construction is so loud, we may have to reduce the number of rooms we make available. which means less staff. which means not working full-time. but nothing is final. not even the dates. which is SUPER stressful. i had a minor panic attack at work last week. we take care of the dying, how can management treat us like this? yes, their revenue would be down with fewer rooms, but HACH is a special place and to just toss the staff into such employment and financial chaos is just cruel and unusual punishment. so, meh.

i continue to enjoy life things. today i shipped some fluevogs to another cult…i mean fluevog fan, went to the grocery store, bought a zester for the lemon cookies i plan to make tomorrow, increased my 401K election, blogged, made appointments. so many life things. and it makes me feel normal. i realize that sounds odd, but keeping a household, not running around dealing with abnormal life events feels good. i don’t even find it boring.

i already received my tax return.

i get a notice from Bumble (a girl messages first dating site) when someone swipes right on me. since the new year, a LOT of men have swiped right on me. and i would like to date, but it takes SO much energy. i feel like this is something i need to talk to my grief therapist about. from aspects of my childhood, to my marriage ending to losing Lucy, i feel such sadness about connecting to others. i don’t think it is a lack of trust (though, i definitely have trust issues) it is an accumulation of disappointment and sense of failure. it isn’t a sense of “why bother” but “it is so hard, am i any good at it?” i have some friends that have these beautiful parties. they are a happy looking couple, with a beautiful home and a lot of my other happy looking, beautiful couples attend (i say “happy looking” because patrick and i were happy looking but not, so you cannot assume all is fine). and i just cannot get myself to go. it makes me feel SO lonely and sad. talk about odd-man-out. i’d like to be in the beautiful couple club, but, but, i am not sure, but it seems really hard whatever it is.

i am going try a sensory deprivation tank tonight. i have never been really good with quiet. though i am more now that i am a nurse. this is silence (though you can listen to music too) and warmth and floating. i am wondering if this will be as relaxing as a massage or therapeutic as talk therapy. it isn’t cheap (got a discounted introductory price) so it isn’t something i could do every week or anything. but perhaps it will be reassuring. i could use reassuring.

tomorrow i shall be a domestic goddess. baking and sewing projects planned (lemon cookies and a new cat dress). been good about going to the gym in the last week. bought a new pair of fluevogs and invited people to meet them by going out to dinner. it was a lovely evening with friends. i have a big organization project next week (because this week is my 5-in-a-row). plan on helping a few other people too. life is full. i probably still sit at home and read too much

blueberry cookies with cream cheese, (a smidge of) powdered sugar and blueberry preserves filling. they were yummy.

goal for next year’s birthday breakfast tacos in the cemetery. bouncy house.

*insert title here*

the end of the year has been pretty good. i still cry if i start to talk about Obi Wan but i have managed not to think of her so often.

i worked thanksgiving and christmas as i have the last number of years. there has been a pay debacle so i am not doing that again. i always offered because i don’t have kids. but not if it isn’t appreciated. i did make 4 pies for thanksgiving and 5 for xmas. we have a chef who has SUPER food allergies. she is on an AutoImmune Protocol. but she makes yummy stuff for us all the time. she just cannot eat it too. so she and i found some recipes and i made her an AIP cherry pie with AIP crust. she said it was delicious. i basically ate a pumpkin pie all on my own like i normally do.

working hospice at the holidays tends to be a nice experience. while the therapy miniature ponies did not arrive this year, patients and families tend to be warm and inviting. everyone enjoys sharing the food and the time. we nurses disconnect from patients and families a lot of the time to bond together. of course, the minute a pt or family needs anything, we are completely connected to them again. but the cliche little family is quite nice.

i read entirely too many books last year. i say that because it means i stayed at home reading too much. i am going to at least try and read other places this year. perhaps even a library? i am sad to be single but i suppose that is just as much my failure as anything. i get to start seeing my grief therapist again next week. it feels weird to say, but i am excited! it felt good going to see her. not just Lucy, but loss throughout my whole life. loss of parts of my life. while, again, i made the decision to read all these books at home alone, i hope in feeling better with speaking to her, i will be more open to more connections.

one funny thing that has changed about me lately. perhaps this is lucy. perhaps it is coming out of depression (at least i think i am. i feel better.) i get easily overwhelmed by loud and/or boisterous people. mansplaining has gotten much harder to tolerate. and not in the “i am not listening to this bullshit anymore” way. in the, i feel beat down way. i have always been one of those people who had no problem speaking up equally. to telling a man he is mansplaining. but i don’t have the energy for it right now. i would say that is a good thing, why fight an unnecessary fight. but the feeling i get in these moments is of being overwhelmed. why must they be so loud and oblivious? as i think about it, every person i have every met probably thought the same thing about me. i appreciate you all not being so overwhelmed by me as to still be my friend. but it is really all more than that. it is SUCH a strong feeling. i want to shrink so no one sees me in these moments. i wince when they hit a high pitch. i have started to avoid these people. is this because i am finally acting on something that i innately know is good for me but have failed to do in the past? or is this another sign of being 50, feeling older, fearing the future, my job, the recent (and not so recent) losses in my life? i like it and i don’t.

my hair stated going grey in the front in july. wtf? was it in anticipation of turning 50? i had an abnormal mammogram in november. i kept thinking how happy i was to have made it to 50 intact. then this fear started to grow in me. i have always had a “too good to be true” streak. but it ended up just being dense tissue (which is a good thing). i have this other weird feeling. well, probably not weird but certainly unhealthy. i feel a lack of time. i have all these clothes i want to make. sewing skills i want to acquire. things i want to bake. raclette i want to host. trips with my new luggage i want to take. but i feel like i am too old. not too old to do these things, but too old to get to do enough of them. i will never be able to retire. i cannot afford it. and at some point i won’t be able to work as much so i won’t be able to afford as much. so i feel this pressure to do it all now. if only that rich uncle that patrick and i made up were real! we had this elaborate story of an unknown very wealthy, very mean and horrible but having lived a life he enjoyed, uncle, dying, at a ripe old age, and leaving us a large inheritance. so we didn’t have to worry about money. it would be in the form of a trust that only allowed for home and food costs. so we didn’t have to worry about that. it was a strangely elaborate story that just got bigger and bigger.

gandalf and snape are fine. snape only chewed on the gothmas tree to annoy me (and then ended uo throwing up the plastic bristles). i have two more lights to fix up under my kitchen cabinets. it makes a world of difference while baking at night. this year i hope to work only 1 extra day per pay period. i am still not in a position to cover all of lucy’s rent. and work is weird because we are having to move and management has no idea what is going to happen. looks like a PRN job for me soon. had my first raclette soiree last night. it went well considering i was coming off 13 hours at work. but i still look cute!

but, things are things and they don’t feel as emotional as they used to. is that age or medication?

well, that is enough of that.

i am ready for a holiday

oh gothmas tree, oh gothmas tree! how ever dark your branches!
my first american raclette. i am proud of myself.

is it menopause? regret? fear? yet another story?

Obi Wan (my new kitten) died on Tuesday. she had some sort of CNS disease or defect. we had hoped that it was just toxoplasmosis. but the antibiotics didn’t seem to be helping anymore and the titer was negative.

and i cannot remember the last time i sobbed so hard. or so many times. or still.

Obi Wan wanted nothing from me but to purr in my ear and she sleep on my shoulder (or across my throat, which was awkward from a breathing standpoint). she didn’t rush me and paw at me the minute i walked into the house. she didn’t break things or knock things over or attack her sisters. she was just happy to see me and there to snuggle. she just loved me and wanted to be near me. she didn’t ask anything of me. she didn’t insist i pet her every moment i was sitting down. she didn’t fight me when i clipped her nails (though i only got two chances). she was with me for a little over a month and she made me SO HAPPY.

it is like i finally found someone who would love me without asking anything of me. it just felt like the easiest love. she loved me for me and not someone she needed me to be. sure, she was just a kitten, and she needed my home and food and water and litter box. she greatly enjoyed the tuna fish i hand fed her the days after she got back from her second trip to the emergency vet. the last night we slept in my bed she laid on my shoulder and purred into my ear while we both fell asleep.

everyone forgets me. not permanently. but they forget me. the worst way to hurt me is to forget me. you told me you would do something with me. be there for something. and then you are not. and it really matters to me. it is the most important thing to me. i think the last time i sobbed this hard was when someone i trusted so much, forgot me on christmas. we had plans. and they forgot and made other plans they wanted more and left. and though Obi Wan is gone, she didn’t forget me. i know it sounds insane but she made me feel loved. she made me so happy. i haven’t been that happy in a long time. i haven’t felt like i mattered so much, just for me, just to sit a purr in my ear in as long as i can remember. there was just this little cat who didn’t need me to be someone for them, to save them from something, to carry them, forsake myself for them, to wait in line for them. she was this little cat that made me #1. i don’t know why, but after losing Obi Wan i feel like the only person left, like i am the only person left, alone, anywhere. and i miss her so much. she was so young. she didn’t deserve to die. i couldn’t tell her what was happening to her. and then she stopped breathing. and she is gone. why does it hurt so much?

little by little

i am down to just under 150lb. that means i have lost 13lbs since Lucy died and i ate everything in sight for 6 months. i cannot remember if i mentioned (and am too lazy to go back and look at previous blogs) that my psychiatrist put me on Adderall for depression. it has helped a ton and has the side benefit of helping me lose weight. 13lbs since April. i am sure if i exercised more i would lose it faster. more than anything i want my flat stomach back. i bet sit-ups would help ;>

i find myself really missing physical contact lately. not just hugs, but true holding. sex would be nice too. i have started a new book series where the main character is fiercely loyal. he loves someone he has previously been with but cannot anymore, and yet remains loyal. some may find it foolish, but i appreciate someone knowing themselves. knowing that they cannot give themselves to someone else completely, so not being wiling to offer less than everything. i don’t want someone to be miserable because they love me but something keeps us apart, i just want someone loyal to me. my birthday proved there are people who love me fiercely, who care about me, who want to celebrate my birth. who are willing to take the time out of their lives to spend my birthday with me. but no one wants me. no one has stayed loyal to their love for me. i think everyone should have that.

as soon as the new year starts, as soon as i have a pre-tax health care account balance again, i am going to start seeing my grief therapist again. i just cannot afford it right now. if someone wanted to anonymously pay off my unsecured debt, then i could afford it. that not being a realistic possibility (i got myself into this, i will get myself out) i gotta wait until January.

i have started to talk to Lucy, it started the day after San Le Muerte. had she been there, had she still been alive, she would have been totally happy and totally hung over. i got up late that day and started talk about how we would have talk endlessly about how brilliant it was and how the music with amazing. how she would have left that afternoon to meet with Alecs for a hair of the dog session. how happy were both were because of our awesome lives. though i wasn’t number 1 in her life, though i never would have been, Lucy was loyal to me. we were a team. i like talking to her.

Snape still hasn’t accepted her new sister Obi Wan. we tried sharing the whole place but it didn’t work. now Obi Wan has something wrong with her hips or back legs. they give out or start going the opposite direction as the rest of her body. a trip to the emergency vet and $609 later (visit, labs and X-ray), there is no clear cause. i don’t really want to take my cat to a feline neurologist and the $4000-$5000 MRI is out of the question. i hope it is just a temporary malady. her energy level is back and that is good. an extra shift will cover that vet visit. thank goodness i keep an emergency credit card around. here is me and Obi Wan snuggling last night. (she likes to like noses, she was just turning her head to like my nose)

i am 50

and it is ok.

had a great birthday. started with breakfast tacos in the cemetery. followed by a nap. then coffee with friends. then a dinner with an amazing surprise of a bunch of people i really care about and who really care about me. really. it was just amazing. followed by a haunted tour of downtown austin. the only bummer about the tour was our tour guide didn’t know enough about the servant girl annihilator (austin had the first serial killer in the US, even before H.H. Holmes in Chicago – highly recommend reading “The Devil in the White City” about Holmes and the Chicago World’s Fair). she should bone up. it would set her tour apart!

the group meeting me for dinner really meant the world to me. i have been feeling so isolated and alone since Lucy died. i am just not close to anyone. Lucy was my conduit. she was also my partner in home life. and that is a big hole. one i do not want to fill with a roommate. but a partner, partner. anyhow, apparently a lot of people bitch about me at work (cause i won’t help you for the 3rd time if you aren’t going to bother to learn how to do it yourself. and i might be night about it one, but by the third time, forget it). and yet we all complain about the same thing and nothing changes. blah blah blah. having people take their time to be with me on my birthday. without me having to organize it, was amazing. just amazing. it is funny how much it means to me to have someone offer to do something for me, with me, instead of me having to ask, arrange and plan. is this what happens as you get older alone?

get my first coloscopy on wednesday. woohoo 50!

have gotten myself in a little bit of a financial hole. i want to get out of that. and i want to work less. and i want to see my grief therapist. gotta pick which 2 out of 3 i want the most.

i do love my home very much. it is my space. it is all me and my style. it is so very comfortable as a result. a safe place.

breakfast tacos in Oakwood Cemetery

what makes me happy

when i came home from work last night, i was sad. all i could think that would make me happy was reading a book. i read murder mystery almost exclusively. lately it has been set in regency england. and, i am embarrassed to say, i seem to read those with a male and female lead that end up romantically connected. (don’t worry, i am not reading bodice rippers. i have no interest in reading sex scenes.) i like hearing about relationships that work. (somehow, couples i know that have relationships that work just make me sad).

it seemed wrong that the only thing i could imagine that would make me happy was escaping reality to a book. set in a different century. with people i don’t know. that don’t actually exist.

tonight when i came home, i thought to myself, “nothing has changed since i left this morning”. and that is because i live alone. and i am single. and i have 2 cats. (ok, it is a LITTLE different when i get home because i DO have cats. they didn’t fold my laundry though.) (which is actually good, because i really enjoy folding laundry. weird, i know.) that felt weird. i won’t go as far as to say it felt wrong, but it didn’t feel right.

i am seeing a new therapist who specializes in grief. my old therapist suggested i see a grief therapist because of Lucy.

my new therapist and i talked about the difference between demoralization and depression. have i mentioned this before? she thinks that perhaps i am more demoralized than depressed. (below is a blurb from a study, albeit old an old one, 2007, that helps to define the difference). we talked about my life in general (i am very practiced at this story) and she said, “you have a lot of grief in your life. not just Lucy.” she was referring to the things that i have lost and/or have never had (and i am not saying, neither was she, that this is all someone else’s fault, a lot of it i did to myself, or with someone else, but not all of it.) but, the two big things, lately, are my job and Lucy. we talked about how demoralizing my job is (how much it has caused me to become demoralized? how does one work that?) and when Lucy died, it pushed me over the edge into depression.

In 1975, Schildkraut and Klein3 defined demoralization as a state separate from depression. Whereas patients with depression experienced anhedonia, patients with demoralization lost their sense of efficacy. In the 1980s and 1990s, Frank and De Figueiredo further refined the meaning of demoralization.4The term demoralization remained distinct from depression and was characterized by 2 states: distress and a sense of incompetence that results from an uncertainty about which direction to take. Individuals with depression and those with anhedonia cannot act (even if they know the proper direction to take).

i think i have struggled a lot longer than i realized. a LOT longer. and that struggle is even some of the reason why i have lost things. is this too vague? i have been so many things most of my life that i don’t think i realized. like adjectives. sad, angry, depressed, frustrated, scared, embarrassed (actually, i think i always know when i am embarrassed, it is a state i have had to master), hopeless, happy. i am not even sure i realized when i was happy. like inside happy, not laughing with friends happy. that sounds crazy though. therapists ask you “what are you feeling right now” when you share something traumatic or get tearful (sometimes when i get angry, but not as much as when i am sad) i often say “i don’t know”. and i don’t. maybe that is new? i always felt like i over shared how i felt. then after my divorce, i stopped sharing, and maybe i stopped feeling? and maybe i am just turning 50 in august, am single and have 2 cats. (i don’t want to be a stereotypical single 50-year-old woman. i don’t want to become a “get off my lawn” Xer. but maybe that is exactly what this is? i hope not. if i am, i almost feel more hopeless. i don’t want to be that woman, in that episode of “6 feet under”, who died and no one really realized it)

i feel the weight now though. i thought to myself this morning, before work, i don’t want to go and get beaten-up. i had a therapist, when i was in college, that said to me, “if you know, if you go there you are going to get beaten up, don’t go”. that has always stuck with me. i think it has taken me a long time to realize (sometimes) i was feeling beaten up. (my dad sent me to this therapist after my step-mother tried to kill me. sounds extreme, i know, but my youth was weird). it seems now like i am feeling it and it is overwhelming. like put my hands over my eyes and push back the hurt so i can go back to work, overwhelming.

we have changed my meds twice since april. it isn’t working yet. but maybe it won’t, really. maybe the help is to change what started this all in the first place. not an easy change. NOT AT ALL.

a volunteer at work, today, told me that i reminded her of Exene Cervenka. i was SO flattered! OMG! to be compared to Exene?! dream come true.

songs change mood

i drove around in my car for like an hour tonight listening to music. my car has a fantastic speaker system. it had stopped raining by the time i started to drive. did slide on water a few times on 183. some songs can make you feel really good. the right song makes me feel powerful. i always skip all the portishead and massive attack songs because that is what “the boy that broke my heart” and i would have sex to. some songs make me sad too. songs that remind me of unpleasant events. obviously songs remind me of people. i need to send an email to my micro teacher as i heard a few songs by nouvelle vague and i had shared their album with him. i wish i got the same feeling on strength listening to music in my house as i do in my car. Lucy would DJ when we were getting ready to go out. i want to roll my hair tonight. listening to music would be great. but it is a little late for that. also, cannot wear headphones while putting in curlers.

bought my own axe for axe league. love this axe. throw GREAT with this axe. i will NOT finish in last place next season.

i now weight 162 pounds. i am kinda of freaking out about it. though obviously not enough to do anything constructive about it. i still eat all the things. my new psychiatrist started me on a new anti-convulsant (good for bi-polar 2) and kyle says it seems to have taken off the edge to my depression, but i am still not myself. the new med (Trileptal) helps me sleep. i am sleeping great! so i stopped taking the Ativan and i wonder if that is why i am feeling increasingly off. the hope of me being able to fit into the 2 things i wanted to for vegas is basically dead. i think not getting to dress up is going to make the trip not as fun for me. but it is still great to get out of town. anyhow, while i feel a little better than in april, i agree with kyle, i am not myself yet.

i like my new therapist, but damn is it expensive. with jayme moving out, i will lose the rent i was getting. so, i guess i will have to work those overtime hours. but i am getting to talk about all the frustrating things causing stress in my life right now. my home situation will becomes less stressful next month. i don’t feel work will ever becomes less stressful unless we have a big change in management. but i also have no idea what other type of nursing i would enjoy. being single is stressful, in the lonely sense, but being my body hates me, it is probably better that i am single still. work stress, boy stress, soon to be increasing money stress, Lucy grief. i got a lot going on.

it is frustrating not knowing how to help myself. especially from a medication standpoint. i don’t know what will help. i feel like me and the medical community are sort of randomly trying things. i want some sort of full body test (physical and/or labs is fine) that will sort all of the things. i wonder if my tummy problems are a bug (literally). it all came on so fast, it seems hard to believe that it is my body simply changing with age. yes, my body is changing with age, but this happened so fast! it is like “sudden onset” dementia in older adults. it doesn’t happen. if they suddenly don’t know who you are from one day to the next, it is a UTI.

i get to redecorate my spare bedroom (into a spare bedroom). that will be fun. and i can feel comfortable about bugging people to visit me! kimberly needs some house stuff so we are going to hunt together. we shop well together. you know, except for the money spending part.

i feel like there was something more exciting i was going to share while i was thinking about this post while driving around in my car. i am at a loss.