I haven't updated much of anything in a while. I've been sicker. I'd been having "seizures" ever six months for a while. Then every three. Now it's been nearly every day. They fit the "partial focal seizure" but no doctor seems to be able to look that up (they fit it perfectly).
So now, instead of listening to me at the beginning, I have to go the hospital this week, be hooked up to monitors and stay their until I have a few good seizures. Sounds like a blast. I don't do well away from home. I never have.
And I fear I'll get the same answers I get with everything: Yup, you're sick. There is nothing we can do for you. It's like...that's the only option.
Just a poem..or is it?
There are tiny holes
All in my soul
White, black, it doesn't matter
And every day, someone
Takes a little piece.
But then there are those
Who take those pieces
and my peaces
And nothing ever happens
They keep living their
As though they haven't taken
Peaces of mine (yes, spelled that way)
I want them back
The ones taken deliberatly
The ones taken in anger
Or ..no, it's all anger
Of one kind or another
I want those back
They are Mine
Had no right
to take them.
I don't know why it all has to hurt so much.
She was hurt, so she turned it back on me. It is the second time that I told her the blunt truth (without putting anyone down), and she's decided that I was being rude about someone, or that I was bringing her down. It never matters what I really said, nor what I really meant.
And I know she hurts. I want to fix it, but I can't.
And now, I hurt too.
I finally lost a bet
The best was: who is more stubborn. The critera was easier. Neither would perform a specified self-destructive act until the other did.
My parter in this, broke it twice. Each time, I offer him a rematch. I wonder if he'll offer me the same.
It happens every time, just when you think things can not possibly get worse, and that "Hey, look, they're looking up", things get worse.
Trust is a big issue with me. My children know that they can do anything, and if they lie about it, whatever the discapline might have been, will now be doubled. I don't like it from my partner's or friends either. And someone I trust very much has lied to me. And didn't think I'd know.
He's such a strong part of this family, I gave him a last chance. There is only so much I can take. I love him, but I won't let anyone betray my trust like that. Not again.
And, I'm not the most stubborn. This time.
I don't mean the kind that come at night. I rarely have those. And when I do, they are nightmares.
I mean the dreams of youth. The ones we believed when we were younger. Somethings were aboslute! I was going to be an actress, and an author. I didn't know if I'd ever marry, or have children; but I was sure if I did, I would stay married forever. The dreams of a child. I had hopes, even while poor, misunderstood and often sick.
None of those hopes came true. Instead, I married young, went to nursing school, had my first daughter, when to College, got a BA, had my second daughter, and got divorced. Now, I'm disabled, and live with my husband and my two daughters from my first marriage.
But, although it is hard (and it is) the dreams don't have to be gone. I can write. I do it all the time in journals. So why can't I do it elsewhere. I finished a novel by hand. But the typing process (and editing while typing) is getting so hard.
I plan to keep trying. I'll tryi and until I'm dead. And goddess only knows what I'll do then.
Music: If Tomorrow Never Comes-Garth Brooks
I hurt. But this isn't new. I tried too hard this week. I tried yoga on Monday, only to pull the muscle on L side of my neck and shoulder. Tuesday, was a birthday outing for my boyfriend. My whole family and I went, though I did use my wheelchair. Yesterday, I was supposed to have an MRI.
We got lost. And the longer it took the harder it got. I got tired, and agitated. Finally, I had to say "Go home" but not before arguing with my husband. Big, bad arguement. I'm slowly learning, that I can't fight or think quite the same that I used to. When the pain and fatigue aren't bad, I think fine.
But when the pain and fatigue are huge, I can't think at all. Things that once made sense, no longer do. I can't fight right, or logically. I feel like I'm mentally retarded at those times. And when I'm yelled at, I find it makes no sense.
I hate it. Sometimes, I hate me.
But for my kids, and my loved ones, I keep going on.
Music: Strains of STRIPES in the background
To live after my time is up..I think not
You'd think my body would get tired of it. That it'd just stop hurting.
But it never does. And I'm assuming it never will. I was thinking about advance directives, heroic life saving measures, life support, cancer, organ transplants...
I decided that I do not want to be on life support (unless it is going to be VERY short term). If I get cancer, if it requires chemo or radiation therapy I won't do it. If I need a transplant (especially a liver), I won't go through it. My body is already dying. Putting it, my family and my psyche through any of that would be too much.
I don't want to die. But I won't prolong my suffering. No one should. And my medications are likely killing my liver. Why get a second one, to do the same thing.
So then, why am I here?
To be with my loved ones, to be loved, and to be the best mother I can be. After that, anything good is gravy.
Music: My Garden-Heather Alexander
Why in pain...
I live my life in chronic pain. It is more than just one type. I have FMS, osteoarthritis, possible rheumatoid arthritis, blow disc's in my back, migraines, and endometriosis. Plus GERD, IBS and the other IBS.
Needless to say, the majority of my life isn't all that fun. I'm completely disabled, unable to work or sit for long periods. I don't want very far anymore, and I use a wheelchair when necessary.
I'm married, with two kids. I am also polyamorous, so I also have a two boyfriends and a girlfriend. Lucky me, in this case, my time is nearly always free.
I don't play much with my children, but I do tell them I love them, and encourage them as often as possible. I don't leave my bedroom (which has my TV, DVD, VCR and two computers) often, nor do I leave the house. The longer I stay sedintary, the harder it is to not gain weight.
And all through this, I'm 30 years old. And I'm here, because I find journaling a step in my (hopeful) writing career. It may be all I have left.
This was merely an introduction. The rest of my life will be....different.
Music: Fast Car-Tracy Chapman