Posted in Blogging, family, funny, health, humor, Life, love, Mental Health, Musings, random

Things I do when I am sick (That I would never do if I was well) (…probably)

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I have had to veer off course in the “Five Day, Five Photo Challenge”, mostly because I have been hovering on deaths door, doing my damnedest not to cross the threshold…just kidding, although I do have a nasty, terrible, no good, fucking awful cold. The second one in about a month, actually. Which probably means there is some underlying cause, most likely fatal, terminal, or otherwise incurable, right? Which leads me to the inspiration for this fine list- the crazy shit I think and do when I am sick. Please, enjoy my neuroses, and my trashy behavior. There should certainly be some benefit to the world from these.

Here goes:

1) As mentioned above, I have never just had a cold. It is always, in my head (and confirmed by WebMD) a symptom of a much bigger, probably fatal, underlying disease. I don’t get headaches, I get brain tumors. It’s never a cold, it’s always early pneumonia due to undiagnosed HIV. The cough is really lung cancer. The achy muscles are Rheumatoid Arthritis. I actually even entertained the idea, briefly, yesterday, that there was probably a tick somewhere lodged in my body, and I was completely riddled with Lyme’s disease. Actually, that could be true. I am sure there are lots of places on my body where a tick could live happily for YEARS. I am not nearly that thorough in my self examinations, that I would spend the time necessary to locate a tick. Let me remind you, I have a four year old. I couldn’t even tell you the last time I took a bath alone, let alone one where I could thoroughly search for ticks.

2) Due to my (hopefully imagined) impending demise, I become extremely weepy, loving, and tender with my children. I imagine how fucked their lives will be when I have the nerve to die young(ish), and I imagine myself looking down on them from heaven as they cry and mourn. Even as I write this, I realize how mental I must sound. I’m even a little embarrassed for me.  Anyway, because this is such a horrible mental road to go down, I then become full of resolve to beat this horrible cancer (my cold) and vow to be well, against all odds (or with chicken soup and Robitussin, whichever is easier). Which leads me to-

3) The part where I turn into a sleep Nazi, screaming at my children, the dogs, and my phone every time it rings. Don’t these idiots know I am coming back from the BRINK, here? I must rest! I must imagine my body attacking the cancer (germs. cold germs, that is all they are) so that I can survive! FOR THEM! Don’t they see what is happening here? ( I can actually see my older daughter rolling her eyes at me in disgust as I write this, saying “Why? Oh, yes, because you are DRAMA.”)

4) Other and miscellaneous things: When I am sick, and I need medicine, which I never seem to have when I need it, I will go to the store in my pajamas and slippers without a single fuck to give, and I will zombie walk to the cold/flu aisle like a kid in a candy store. If a kid were a zombie with serious sinus problems, anyway. I spent forty dollars yesterday on shit for my cold. I know that I can’t cure it, but I just wanted to feel better. You and I both know, though, that nothing apart from time really works.  If I didn’t have kids, I’d just continually use Nyquil to knock myself out until the symptoms passed, but that seems dangerous with a four year old in the house.

5) I religiously spray salt water up my nose when I am sick. I know I am not alone in this, but it seems to funny to me every time I do it- we spend every well moment of our lives vigorously avoiding getting things up our noses (well, okay…you know what I mean) and the minute we are sick, we actively begin squirting shit up there. Or, I do, anyway. I have no idea if it actually even works, but at least I feel like I am doing something.

6) I take baths with no thought of hygiene whatsoever. I sat in a bath full of kids vapor crap yesterday, just for the hope of some relief, however brief. I nearly scalded my skin off, but dear Jesus, I could actually breathe for the duration of the bath. Unfortunately, I was too sick to bother actually washing any part of my body. It never even crossed my mind. Being wet was good enough in my book.

7) I will literally blow and or wipe my nose on ANYTHING when I am sick, so the best bet is to keep something intended for that near me at all times. This is why people walk around with Kleenex boxes when they are ill- to save the curtains. I actually wiped my nose on my own pajama bottoms the other day. I am pretty sure I am still wearing them. Guess how much I care?

8) I will gladly let my four year old eat nothing but Popsicle’s for breakfast. And lunch. And dinner. Only when I am sick. At least she is eating something, right? Now that I think about it, this may be WHY I am sick again so soon- she is probably diabolically licking all the rims of the clean glasses in the house, planting her pre-school germs (of which there are plenty) in hopes of Popsicle’s 24/7…I better keep an eye on her.

Well, that is it for me. I am going back to bed now. Gotta nip this cancer (cold) in the bud. Have a wonderful day!

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Posted in fun, humor, Learning, Life, Musings, People, random

No Rest for the Dumb-Ass

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LiquidLibrary

Day three of this miserable cold-flu-sinus-whatever bug. I don’t feel good, but I feel a million times better than I did yesterday. Yesterday was horrible. Yesterday was deep in the trenches of yuck. Battling a fever all day long, that weird, patchy sleep thing that happens when you are sick, getting up for water, going back to bed, getting up to pee, going back to bed. Finding yourself watching a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle marathon because you really can’t be bothered to find the remote.

Anyway, today, I am up and about. I can’t really swallow without wincing in pain, and the thermometer is telling me I probably shouldn’t be out among the general public, but I feel so much better. And this is where the problem is. I know I should rest. I know that if I don’t rest, I am going to, quite probably, feel like a giant mountain of shit later on…But…laundry. I could be doing laundry! And, you know, since I am staying home and shirking all my other responsibilities, shouldn’t I just clean the bathroom? Or maybe, you know, it  would do me some good to get some sun…and there are a lot of weeds to be pulled out front. I could kill two birds with one stone, get some vitamin D AND pull those weeds.

It’s really funny, because, if it were a day when I was just off, and I felt great, I wouldn’t want to do any of those things because I really should be doing them. But just knowing that I really shouldn’t be doing anything makes me want to do EVERYTHING. Perhaps if I could get the flu once a month, my house might be a little cleaner? Ugh, never mind- it would not be worth it. I don’t like feeling like this. Although I am amused by my sudden desire to be all Suzy homemaker. Because that is just not me. Not even.

Well, I’m off to take a long, hot, bath. And perhaps just clean up a tiny bit while I’m in there. We’ll see.

Hope you are feeling better than I am today.

Posted in fun, humor, Learning, Life, love, Musings, People, random

Careful What You Ask For…

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Warning: I am going to mention prayer in this blog, so if that makes you feel: Angry, Anxious, Uncomfortable, Defiant, Disgusted or otherwise poorly, you may want to skip this one.

It’s not big news that I believe in God. Not so much the punishing God of some religions, though. I don’t really believe in sin, or hell, or a big man in the sky with infinite eyes, one for each of us, who waits and watches for us to fuck up so that he can whack us one. Nah, that kind of God doesn’t exist for me. What I do believe is that God will listen if we are talking to Him directly, and that He does have a sense of humor.

I was talking about this with a friend of mine last week- both of us, at different times, have prayed for patience. What the result of that prayer was- the answer, I guess,- was that we each found our lives full to the limit of trying, barely tolerable, situations and people. It sure seemed like God was over zealously giving us ample opportunities to exercise some patience that we must already have…

“I prayed for patience a long time ago.” My friend said. “It was horrible. I haven’t asked for anything specific since then- just “Hey man, your will be done in my life, thanks.”

Now, I don’t pray as much as I think I should. For those of you weirded out by this (I told you what was coming, but you didn’t listen, so don’t get all freaked out now) I wish I could explain to you how comfortable I am with my spiritual practices, however meager they are. I feel a real connection to whatever is out there- if you want to call it God, or The Universe, or whatever- when I pray. It helps my meditation practice. It helps me prioritize what matters to me. Prayer is something I can do for other people when there is nothing else. I really believe that something happens when we pray- for those of you who need some kind of proof, I suggest you look up the studies they have done involving prayer over surgical instruments, prayer for sick people who didn’t even know they were being prayed for. Google that shit. It’s real.

I also believe we must be careful what we pray for. Kind of like those stories about the Genie in the bottle who gives you your wish so literally that it winds up totally sucking? Yeah, that.

Yesterday, I sent up a rather desperate prayer to God, asking for help with this out of control nicotine addiction of mine. I have gone back and forth so many times, I feel like a slightly manic yo-yo. “God,” I asked, “Please help me with this! I just need some willingness. I need you to take this craving away from me. Please, oh please, oh pleasy-please?” I whined. I should have known better than to get all whiny and desperate, I guess.

I would like to mention that, at the moment of this prayer, I was feeling the picture of health and vitality. Yet somehow, by noon yesterday, I swallowed and thought “Oh, no. I think I’m getting sick.” By six o’clock last night, I was pretty sure I had a fever. By eight last night, I was straight up SICK- in my bed, fever, chills, pretty sure I was a goner. Guess how much I wanted to smoke, though?

“Hahaha!” I muttered, between chills, towards the ceiling- you know, just in case HE really is UP somewhere.

“Who are you talking to, mama?” My four year old asked me, concerned for my mental well being, even at her tender age.

“No one, honey. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, mom. I’m sure going to miss you.” WTF? Yeah, she really said that. Unless it was a fever induced hallucination. Anyway, between that creepy statement and my fever, chills, sore throat and sweating…I didn’t get a great nights sleep. I also could give a fuck less about smoking. Was my prayer answered?

I guess I’ll let you decide that for yourself. I think I’m going to find some tylenol and go back to bed.

Posted in Addiction, advice, Blogging, family, friendship, Goals, inner peace, Life, People

Simple Pleasures

 

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When I started this blog, I thought that it would be about a woman (me) on a quest to better herself, to stave off the BS that is aging, and how she (I) learned to be, or to stay, beautiful…Man, I could never have guessed how right I was, in some respects, and how misguided I was, in others. I had no idea the battle that lay ahead, that I would be swept back up, on several occasions, pinned back down beneath the tsunami of my own addiction. I could not have guessed that, by the time I got here, to this day, I would be far less interested in the state of my appearance than I was in the state of my spirit. That my crows feet would not even place on the top ten list of my current concerns.

I know I talk about my struggle with drugs a lot, and if that bothers you, I highly encourage you to find another blog to read…because drugs are a huge part of my story, a major contributing factor in the making of me as you know me, a curse and also a blessing. ‘How in the world can you call it a blessing ?’ You might be asking yourself…well, let me explain, would you?

If it weren’t for the drugs, that revealed my illness, that caused all the struggle, the hardship, the bullshit…I would never have known the joy of overcoming all of it. I would never have gotten through it and looked back and thought, ‘Man, you made it out alive, through all of THAT?’ . There are things I will keep to myself, that I will never write about in this blog, or tell my mother, or share with most people, because they just don’t need to know. But rest assured, when I tell you that my life was hard, and sad, brutal and depraved, even- you can trust that I am telling you the truth. I wasted a lot of years on what amounted to very little.

But I learned from it. And because of all of that, my appreciation for what I have in my life today, the simple, little, common pleasures are profound. Last night, I made dinner and watched Matilda with both of my daughters and my older daughters boyfriend, and I realized that even a month ago, I would not have found myself there. No one wanted to be around me, and that was fine, because I didn’t want to be around them either. Now, it is the best part of my day, spending time with people I love. Actually, the whole day is the best part of my day, because at every turn, I am filled with gratitude. And that is why I can tell you that my illness is also a blessing- because the flip side of the coin is a wonderful way to be.

In the past month, i have done more than I have done in the past year, and I am not kidding you. I got my nose pierced with my daughter, I went to the boardwalk, I went to the mall. My sister came to visit me for three days, and I got to show her around town. I went to the lighthouse here for the first time ever. I went to a family barbecue in Palo Colorado Canyon. I painted with my toddler. I went to the library, twice. I read a book, I started writing a book, I wrote a couple of good blogs. I started exercising. I took a Zumba class, and pilates, and body sculpting. I lost five pounds. I hung out with old friends. I booked a vacation. I planned a day trip with some other friends. I went to a street festival. I went to some meetings. I called my mother- a lot. I talked to every person I love, at least one time. And that is just in the last MONTH. My life is so full of good, I can’t really describe it.

So…if you are out there, right in the middle of your own self imposed prison sentence, can you try to put yourself in my place? I am telling you, right now, you can start to turn it all around, you are just like me. Everyone who loves you still loves you. You can have back everything you had in your life…or nearly everything, and what you can’t have will be replaced by something just as good…maybe even better. Just think about it. And that is all I have to say today. :)addic

 

 

Posted in Addiction, Goals, Life, People, random, Uncategorized, writing

Memory Lane in a BAD Neighborhood

Well, hello, strangers. I haven’t had a lot of time (or the inclination) to write much lately- life has been busy, and filled with a lot of stuff I don’t feel qualified to handle. Unfortunately, there IS no one else, so I don’t have a lot of choice. Work has been insanely busy and I’ve been trying to put in as much overtime as I can (as it turns out, that’s not a whole lot in my case), the little daughter has made it her mission in life to see how many times per day she can come perilously close to killing herself via a multitude of dangerous activities. The big daughter is also trying to get herself killed, only she, it is obvious, wants the old “suicide-by-mom” thing. She is the winner, this week, of the crazy making award. And also, my car is in the shop for a repair that is exorbitantly expensive for a thing that isn’t even freaking broken (timing belt). So I have been reliant on others to taxi me about since Tuesday. In other words, I’ve left my house ONCE.  So, because I’ve been sticking close to home and trying not to kill my children, I’ve had time to dive into the piles of crap I have squirreled away in boxes and bags in every nook and cranny of my home. I went through a small crate and large drawer that were crammed full of notebooks-everything I had written from 1993 forward.  I put my notebooks in chronological order, reading through each one, something I had never done before. What emerged, when taken altogether like that, was a really sad, really clear life story of a troubled, unhappy, desperate girl who has TERRIBLE taste in men. But there was some really great, hopeful stuff in there, too. That’s where I found what I’m posting today, and I hope you enjoy it as much as I did when I stumbled across it the other day. It’s the story of how I felt when I finally got clean and got my life back. (written three years later around the time I relapsed…again…I must have been trying to remind myself of the truth). I am transcribing it word for word, so bear with the structure and the jumping of tenses-I never dreamed it would ever be seen by anyone but me.

10/2008

Today, it dawned on me that this mental beating I give myself every time I make this choice, it is exactly how I felt almost constantly for the 11 solid years I sacrificed to my addiction. Now, I say “almost constantly” because I do clearly recall having SOME fun, albeit bizarre, times in there. But I knew, I knew, I KNEW, as surely as I knew my own face, that I was doing myself a terrible disservice. The way that I kept on and kept on and kept on living that way, until finally it had been YEARS- I knew I was cheating myself, my mom, and my daughter. Just about every one who loved me, or who got sucked into the abyss that was my life, got the short end of the stick.

At some point, you realize you are using now JUST to stay two steps ahead of your own terrible reality sinking in. When you are already so weakened, so compromised, so ghostly, it is terrifying to entertain the thought of actually turning around & seeing the path of destruction you left in your wake. It’s just too, too much.

What I didn’t know then that I do know now, is that continuing to claw your way blindly and frantically ahead is not the answer. It is familiar, and how you do it, and strangely comfortable despite how it looks from the outside. When you are in the middle of  addiction, and it is YOUR horrible, bleak life, you are totally in your element. You know many other creatures just like you, in varying degrees, you have a language, a culture, a kind of code all your own, and you have lived in the shadows for so long that venturing outside of your tiny world causes you extreme discomfort. You no longer know how to interact properly with normal folks, you are too loud or too silent, too nervous, too shifty, too angry, too flippant, too self-involved to even notice how out of sync you are half the time. You get irrationally angry and immediately defensive when the slightest threat is even perceived. This is how you keep folks at bay, being short fused. People don’t press when they are afraid of what might set you off. You are moody and unhappy and you hate every single thing that there is, especially yourself. Except for your daughter. When you look at her, you hate yourself more than you even thought possible, but you love her in the deepest, most tender way. That love is like a weight on your back, only you can’t tell if it is making everything even harder, or if it is the sole thing keeping you planted on earth, or both. Maybe it’s both. But you look at that girl and your throat closes, and your eyes burn, and you can no longer escape the cloak of your despair.

Oh, I am so sorry, but I have to start work right now! There is more, and I will just make it a separate post later today. Meanwhile, I hope you enjoyed this so far…it truly is that way when you are strung out for so long. It’s a nightmare, and you can’t even figure out what is wrong with you while it is happening to you. In case you ever wondered why “those people” are the way they are and do what they do. It’ s very sad. But it CAN get better, and if you check me out later, you can read the rest.