I have a confession to make.
Last week, in the evening, I was really jonesin' for something sweet. Anything. Anything other than a small cup of sugar-free pudding. I would have taken candy from a stranger. I searched my cupboards, without much hope of finding anything because I was pretty sure I'd already purged my house of all-things-good, when I found a container of frosting. That I had opened in early December for my open house. It had been sitting in my cupboard, seal broken but lid still intact, half empty for 8 months. I spread it on Saltines. I figured I'd get my sugar fix and if it made me sick, all the better to purge what I'd just eaten. I'd say I'm half-bulimic but only when my body decides to be. It's not like I force anything out of me. I don't have the energy for that. I don't care enough to do that.
It didn't make me sick.
The next night, now that I knew it was there, I spread some more on Saltines. You wouldn't normally put frosting and Saltines together, but what else was I going to do? I had to have it!
It didn't cross my mind until night 3 to just eat it straight out of the container. And I did.
And then the next night, I opened the second container I had bought with the first because I had no idea how much frosting I'd need when I baked the cookies for the open house. I did not need the second container. On so many levels. I did not need it. But I sure as hell ate it. All.
And now that the door to the wonderland that is frosting has opened, I can't close it. I bought 3 containers at the store. I figure it's better (& cheaper) to buy frosting than a family size bag of peanut butter M&M's. Or a large container of chunky peanut butter AND ice cream.
Of course, I bought a bag of peanut butter M&M's too. TOO! Geezy lou.
Hello, my name is Amy, and not only am I an alcoholic, I'm also.....what exactly? A sugar-fiend?
I just keep telling myself, I'm not that fat. And I'll stop when I hit 130 again. (Tomorrow?) I'm hoping what my mom said is true - a person loses weight when the sleeping temp is at 62 degrees. I'll lose weight this winter. I'm still working out, though sporadically. I'm still eating salad for supper. I don't eat a whole lot during the day. But when 7 or 8 o'clock hit, you'd best get out of my way. I'm like a crazy person. Give me the frosting!!!
I may have a problem.
Saturday, August 23, 2014
Thursday, August 21, 2014
"The weather's been great lately. If you're a lizard." -Maxine
I couldn't get to sleep last night. It wasn't because I was on centipede-watch, either. Wanna know what was rattling around this old brain until 2AM?
How am I going to prevent my washer pipes from freezing this winter?
Yep. It's over 90 degrees and humid as hell (would hell be humid?) and I'm thinking about winter. This morning, I rearranged some outdoor plants and broke up a big limb that feel from my tree and my head was dripping sweat from that little amount of work. And I'm thinking about winter. Is it any wonder? I want it to get here ASAP! However, I want to be prepared for it.
With the Farmer's Almanac calling for below normal temperatures, I can practically guarantee my pipes will freeze. Also, Mom & Dad will be gone all winter, ensuring my pipes will freeze (Murphy's Law).
So, here's what I thought out last night. I need a Haz-Mat-like suit so I can crawl under the house and wrap the washer pipes. Like hell, I'm going to crawl under the house with the millions of centipedes, spiders and god-knows-what-else without some sort of full-body protection. I wonder if Walmart carries these?
I'm going to have to cover the North door leading to the outside. It has gaps that let in cold, wind and snow. That should be easy enough, right? Dad gave me plastic that is big enough to cover the entire door. But is that enough?
I need to come up with some way to insulate the stairway leading from the garage to the basement (where the pipes are). Can I fill the stairway with boxes? Would that help? Can I get a shit-load of insulation and stuff it in the stairway all winter? Apparently, I'm not going to be able to use this stairway all winter. Ok. I can live with that. What I can't live with is burst water pipes flooding my basement.
I need to find the main shut-off valve. I'm pretty sure I know where it is, but it's always good to remind myself.
*sigh*
This is what I think about as I'm trying to fall into blissful, peaceful sleep?!?
It's no wonder I'm a whack-job.
How am I going to prevent my washer pipes from freezing this winter?
Yep. It's over 90 degrees and humid as hell (would hell be humid?) and I'm thinking about winter. This morning, I rearranged some outdoor plants and broke up a big limb that feel from my tree and my head was dripping sweat from that little amount of work. And I'm thinking about winter. Is it any wonder? I want it to get here ASAP! However, I want to be prepared for it.
With the Farmer's Almanac calling for below normal temperatures, I can practically guarantee my pipes will freeze. Also, Mom & Dad will be gone all winter, ensuring my pipes will freeze (Murphy's Law).
So, here's what I thought out last night. I need a Haz-Mat-like suit so I can crawl under the house and wrap the washer pipes. Like hell, I'm going to crawl under the house with the millions of centipedes, spiders and god-knows-what-else without some sort of full-body protection. I wonder if Walmart carries these?
I'm going to have to cover the North door leading to the outside. It has gaps that let in cold, wind and snow. That should be easy enough, right? Dad gave me plastic that is big enough to cover the entire door. But is that enough?
I need to come up with some way to insulate the stairway leading from the garage to the basement (where the pipes are). Can I fill the stairway with boxes? Would that help? Can I get a shit-load of insulation and stuff it in the stairway all winter? Apparently, I'm not going to be able to use this stairway all winter. Ok. I can live with that. What I can't live with is burst water pipes flooding my basement.
I need to find the main shut-off valve. I'm pretty sure I know where it is, but it's always good to remind myself.
*sigh*
This is what I think about as I'm trying to fall into blissful, peaceful sleep?!?
It's no wonder I'm a whack-job.
Wednesday, August 20, 2014
"Ah summer...Mother Nature's hot flash." -Maxine
As much as I hate summer, this one hasn't been too awful. Yes, we're getting over a week of high temps and 100% humidity which causes me to stay indoors as much as possible for fear of dripping away in sweat, but really - a week of heat then a week of nice temps isn't something to complain about. Of course, I'll find a way.
Last night, as I was cleaning Elvis' litter box before going to bed, a centipede came out of nowhere, brushed my foot and scurried into a crack in the wall. I think I may have had an actual heart attack. I may have blacked out. Thank god I'm not a screamer because I'm pretty sure that would have made my neighbors come running. As if. But seriously. I may have died. When I came to my senses, I did a heebie-jeebie dance, "looked" for the centipede (but not really because did I really want to find it? NO!), couldn't find it, did another heebie-jeebie dance, decided I'd never enter my bathroom again without reinforcements, went and got slippers because no way in hell am I walking around this place barefoot, and scurried myself to bed. After about 5 minutes of hiding under the covers, I found my courage - called RAID - got TWO cans of bug spray and ventured back into the bathroom. Of course, by that time the centipede was in a witness protection program and on his way to Canada or Mexico. Probably Mexico. Regardless, I sprayed every nook and cranny I could find in the bathroom and told Elvis to keep watch. He meowed and went back to bed. What good is that cat? Really? I did have a moment of concern that I'd sprayed so much bug spray in the bathroom that Elvis would be unable to make it to his litter box without passing out & dying. He's still here this morning, annoying the shit out of me with his meowing and lack of bug-patrol, so I guess I could have sprayed more....
I did not sleep well. I even got my can of Mace and put it on my nightstand so when I woke up in a panic in the middle of the night, feeling something crawling on me, I could blindly grab it and spray. Luckily, I came to my senses enough to NOT do that. Elvis would not have had a good night! Though, at one point, when I was in that time between awake & sleep, I felt something brush my arm and, without thinking, swiped whatever it was off of me. It was Elvis' tail. Surprisingly, it feels a lot like a centipede crawling on my skin. I could have gone my entire life without knowing that. In fact, I wish I had.
I had a nightmare that I had sores or boils on my calves that were really full of bugs. When they popped open, the slimy white worm-like things from The Strain started coming out.
I don't think I slept more than 5 minutes at a time. I imagine my entire house is surrounded and pulsing with millions of centipedes.
I'm gonna need more RAID.
Last night, as I was cleaning Elvis' litter box before going to bed, a centipede came out of nowhere, brushed my foot and scurried into a crack in the wall. I think I may have had an actual heart attack. I may have blacked out. Thank god I'm not a screamer because I'm pretty sure that would have made my neighbors come running. As if. But seriously. I may have died. When I came to my senses, I did a heebie-jeebie dance, "looked" for the centipede (but not really because did I really want to find it? NO!), couldn't find it, did another heebie-jeebie dance, decided I'd never enter my bathroom again without reinforcements, went and got slippers because no way in hell am I walking around this place barefoot, and scurried myself to bed. After about 5 minutes of hiding under the covers, I found my courage - called RAID - got TWO cans of bug spray and ventured back into the bathroom. Of course, by that time the centipede was in a witness protection program and on his way to Canada or Mexico. Probably Mexico. Regardless, I sprayed every nook and cranny I could find in the bathroom and told Elvis to keep watch. He meowed and went back to bed. What good is that cat? Really? I did have a moment of concern that I'd sprayed so much bug spray in the bathroom that Elvis would be unable to make it to his litter box without passing out & dying. He's still here this morning, annoying the shit out of me with his meowing and lack of bug-patrol, so I guess I could have sprayed more....
I did not sleep well. I even got my can of Mace and put it on my nightstand so when I woke up in a panic in the middle of the night, feeling something crawling on me, I could blindly grab it and spray. Luckily, I came to my senses enough to NOT do that. Elvis would not have had a good night! Though, at one point, when I was in that time between awake & sleep, I felt something brush my arm and, without thinking, swiped whatever it was off of me. It was Elvis' tail. Surprisingly, it feels a lot like a centipede crawling on my skin. I could have gone my entire life without knowing that. In fact, I wish I had.
I had a nightmare that I had sores or boils on my calves that were really full of bugs. When they popped open, the slimy white worm-like things from The Strain started coming out.
I don't think I slept more than 5 minutes at a time. I imagine my entire house is surrounded and pulsing with millions of centipedes.
I'm gonna need more RAID.
Wednesday, August 13, 2014
"I never show up empty-handed for a party...I always bring a purse for leftovers." -Maxine
This morning, I woke up before the butt-crack of dawn. It near about killed me. I can wake up at 1:30am to Elvis throwing up all over his cat-bed, my pillow and my bed; strip the bed; run a wash cycle; watch t.v.; and read. But ask me to get up & get moving at 5:00am is asking a whole lot more.
However, I did it because this morning was a celebration.
The guys gave me my 3-year-chip this morning to celebrate my birthday on August 8th. I haven't been to an AA meeting in months. I can't even remember the last time I was in CB. But in my heart, I know this meeting will be there - the doors will be open - whenever I need them.
Sometimes, like at this morning's meeting, I feel like I don't convey well enough what a struggle it was to get here and how happy I am that I made it; that every day I have to look alcohol in the face and tell it to fuck off. I'm in awe of those who have 25, 30 years sober who say "thank you" to us "newbies" because we remind them of what the struggle was like - what their lives were like 'before'. It's so easy to forget. Our ability to forget awful things is why I think women have more than one baby. Seriously?!? You want to go through that AGAIN?!? You're crazy! But it's the same damn thing. Alcoholics forget how bad it was. We convince ourselves (or allow ourselves to be convinced) that it wasn't that bad; that one drink won't hurt; that we can quit (again) if we want to. Ha! What a joke! I'm well aware one drink will ruin me. I remind myself every damn day.
But this morning, I'm not thinking about what a struggle it was; how awful those first 100 days were; how strong my urges were; how many times I barely held on. I'm thinking about all of the people who carried me here - every single person from my parents to my shrink to my AA friends to the Walmart clerk to my neighbors to my co-workers to my best friends to my aunts & cousin and even those people I can't stand. Every single person helped me along the way whether they knew it or not (sometimes I wouldn't drink just to show them!) Whatever gets a person through, do it. One day at a time.
However, I did it because this morning was a celebration.
The guys gave me my 3-year-chip this morning to celebrate my birthday on August 8th. I haven't been to an AA meeting in months. I can't even remember the last time I was in CB. But in my heart, I know this meeting will be there - the doors will be open - whenever I need them.
Sometimes, like at this morning's meeting, I feel like I don't convey well enough what a struggle it was to get here and how happy I am that I made it; that every day I have to look alcohol in the face and tell it to fuck off. I'm in awe of those who have 25, 30 years sober who say "thank you" to us "newbies" because we remind them of what the struggle was like - what their lives were like 'before'. It's so easy to forget. Our ability to forget awful things is why I think women have more than one baby. Seriously?!? You want to go through that AGAIN?!? You're crazy! But it's the same damn thing. Alcoholics forget how bad it was. We convince ourselves (or allow ourselves to be convinced) that it wasn't that bad; that one drink won't hurt; that we can quit (again) if we want to. Ha! What a joke! I'm well aware one drink will ruin me. I remind myself every damn day.
But this morning, I'm not thinking about what a struggle it was; how awful those first 100 days were; how strong my urges were; how many times I barely held on. I'm thinking about all of the people who carried me here - every single person from my parents to my shrink to my AA friends to the Walmart clerk to my neighbors to my co-workers to my best friends to my aunts & cousin and even those people I can't stand. Every single person helped me along the way whether they knew it or not (sometimes I wouldn't drink just to show them!) Whatever gets a person through, do it. One day at a time.
Monday, August 11, 2014
"When you're feeling so low you have to reach up to touch bottom...whose bottom it is makes a big difference." -Maxine
It was shocking enough to read that Robin Williams died at the age of 63, but then to also read that he died of an apparent suicide threw me to the floor.
I should say a few words about Mr. Williams - he was a fine actor, creatively humorous, loud & obnoxious. I'm sure he will be missed by many. I feel sympathy for the family's suffering.
But this isn't about Robin Williams. This is about me. Of course!
It doesn't bode well for me that by the age of 63 a person isn't "better". I remember when I was in my 20's hearing about another family member (in their 30's) still struggling with mental illness and suicidal tendencies and thinking, "If I'm still depressed at that age, just shoot me." Well, here I am - 39 - and still struggle with depression & suicidal thoughts....and nobody's put me out of my misery.....yet.
Sixty-three?!? Come on, people! Fuckin' disease.
My next thought was - where the hell was everybody???? How could *they* let that happen? Suicide is completely preventable....but the person committing suicide isn't capable of stopping themselves. They're not in their right mind. No normal person thinks killing themselves is o.k. I know. I KNOW. But when a person is that depressed and that illogical, there's no telling what they'll do. It takes a village, people. And that village has to be in that person's life to know what the hell is going on....if they care.
Angry.
However, we all have ways of hiding what's really going on, don't we? I feel like an amateur expert in that department.
*head shake*
Hell, I can't hide shit. Everything I think & feel is written on my face. Maybe too clearly. And maybe that keeps people away. They don't know what to do. They don't want to say something that will only make it worse. They don't want to touch me - I might explode. And maybe - just maybe - they want it to end, too. All the late night calls. All the tearful exchanges. All the anger. All the dark. All the isolation. All the inability-to-do-anything. All the flat-out-craziness. I seriously can't imagine what it's like to be my mom, my dad, my brothers, my aunts, my cousins, my friends. I'm always astonished anybody wants anything to do with me. Astonished. I've really never figured it out.
Maybe there was nothing anybody could do to help him. I don't truly believe that, but maybe...just maybe. I'll give people the benefit of the doubt. If a depressed person wants to commit suicide, they'll find a way. Only, I don't really believe that. Something - anything - could have been done. Though, the action rests solely on the person. A very, very sick person.
I have songs - my top hits - that I listen to religiously, in the moment. For example, when I was dating, it was "Adore You" by Miley Cyrus (yes, I said Miley Cyrus); "Human" by Christina Perri; "Say Something" by A Great Big World & Christina Aguilera. When I was at the church, my theme song was "Gives You Hell" by All American Rejects. These days my go-to song is "I Wanna Get Better" by Bleachers.
Hey, I hear the voice of a preacher from the back room
Calling my name and I follow just to find you
I trace the faith to a broken down television and put on the weather
And I've trained myself to give up on the past 'cause
I frozen time between hearses and caskets
Lost control when I panicked at the acid test
I wanna get better
While my friends were getting high and chasing girls down parkway lines
I was losing my mind 'cause the love, the love, the love, the love, the love
That I gave wasted on a nice face
In a blaze of fear I put a helmet on a helmet
Counting seconds through the night and got carried away
So now I'm standing on the overpass screaming at the cars,
"Hey, I wanna get better!"
I didn’t know I was lonely 'til I saw your face
I wanna get better, better, better, better,
I wanna get better
I didn't know I was broken 'til I wanted to change
I wanna get better, better, better, better,
I wanna get better
I go up to my room and there's girls on the ceiling
Cut out their pictures and I chase that feeling
Of an eighteen year old who didn't know what loss was
Now I'm a stranger
And I miss the days of a life still permanent
Mourn the years before I got carried away
So now I'm staring at the interstate screaming at myself,
"Hey, I wanna get better!"
I didn't know I was lonely 'til I saw your face
I wanna get better, better, better, better,
I wanna get better
I didn't know I was broken 'til I wanted to change
I wanna get better, better, better, better,
I wanna get better
'Cause I'm sleeping in the back of a taxi
I'm screaming from my bedroom window
Even if its gonna kill me
Woke up this morning early before my family
From this dream where she was trying to show me
How a life can move from the darkness
She said to get better
So I put a bullet where I shoulda put a helmet
And I crash my car cause I wanna get carried away
That's why I'm standing on the overpass screaming at myself,
"Hey, I wanna get better!"
I didn't know I was lonely 'til I saw your face
I wanna get better, better, better, better,
I wanna get better
I didn't know I was broken 'til I wanted to change
I wanna get better, better, better, better,
I wanna get better
The video is hilarious. The song rocks. And it fits appropriately into my life right now.
I'm not depressed. Really. I'm not. This isn't a 'cry for help'. I'm not going to jump off my roof or crash my car anytime soon, neither of which would probably do me in. But Robin Williams' death rattled me. Not because I was a fan, but because he was SIXTY-THREE and STILL suffering.
*sigh*
Doesn't it get better at some point?
I should say a few words about Mr. Williams - he was a fine actor, creatively humorous, loud & obnoxious. I'm sure he will be missed by many. I feel sympathy for the family's suffering.
But this isn't about Robin Williams. This is about me. Of course!
It doesn't bode well for me that by the age of 63 a person isn't "better". I remember when I was in my 20's hearing about another family member (in their 30's) still struggling with mental illness and suicidal tendencies and thinking, "If I'm still depressed at that age, just shoot me." Well, here I am - 39 - and still struggle with depression & suicidal thoughts....and nobody's put me out of my misery.....yet.
Sixty-three?!? Come on, people! Fuckin' disease.
My next thought was - where the hell was everybody???? How could *they* let that happen? Suicide is completely preventable....but the person committing suicide isn't capable of stopping themselves. They're not in their right mind. No normal person thinks killing themselves is o.k. I know. I KNOW. But when a person is that depressed and that illogical, there's no telling what they'll do. It takes a village, people. And that village has to be in that person's life to know what the hell is going on....if they care.
Angry.
However, we all have ways of hiding what's really going on, don't we? I feel like an amateur expert in that department.
*head shake*
Hell, I can't hide shit. Everything I think & feel is written on my face. Maybe too clearly. And maybe that keeps people away. They don't know what to do. They don't want to say something that will only make it worse. They don't want to touch me - I might explode. And maybe - just maybe - they want it to end, too. All the late night calls. All the tearful exchanges. All the anger. All the dark. All the isolation. All the inability-to-do-anything. All the flat-out-craziness. I seriously can't imagine what it's like to be my mom, my dad, my brothers, my aunts, my cousins, my friends. I'm always astonished anybody wants anything to do with me. Astonished. I've really never figured it out.
Maybe there was nothing anybody could do to help him. I don't truly believe that, but maybe...just maybe. I'll give people the benefit of the doubt. If a depressed person wants to commit suicide, they'll find a way. Only, I don't really believe that. Something - anything - could have been done. Though, the action rests solely on the person. A very, very sick person.
I have songs - my top hits - that I listen to religiously, in the moment. For example, when I was dating, it was "Adore You" by Miley Cyrus (yes, I said Miley Cyrus); "Human" by Christina Perri; "Say Something" by A Great Big World & Christina Aguilera. When I was at the church, my theme song was "Gives You Hell" by All American Rejects. These days my go-to song is "I Wanna Get Better" by Bleachers.
Hey, I hear the voice of a preacher from the back room
Calling my name and I follow just to find you
I trace the faith to a broken down television and put on the weather
And I've trained myself to give up on the past 'cause
I frozen time between hearses and caskets
Lost control when I panicked at the acid test
I wanna get better
While my friends were getting high and chasing girls down parkway lines
I was losing my mind 'cause the love, the love, the love, the love, the love
That I gave wasted on a nice face
In a blaze of fear I put a helmet on a helmet
Counting seconds through the night and got carried away
So now I'm standing on the overpass screaming at the cars,
"Hey, I wanna get better!"
I didn’t know I was lonely 'til I saw your face
I wanna get better, better, better, better,
I wanna get better
I didn't know I was broken 'til I wanted to change
I wanna get better, better, better, better,
I wanna get better
I go up to my room and there's girls on the ceiling
Cut out their pictures and I chase that feeling
Of an eighteen year old who didn't know what loss was
Now I'm a stranger
And I miss the days of a life still permanent
Mourn the years before I got carried away
So now I'm staring at the interstate screaming at myself,
"Hey, I wanna get better!"
I didn't know I was lonely 'til I saw your face
I wanna get better, better, better, better,
I wanna get better
I didn't know I was broken 'til I wanted to change
I wanna get better, better, better, better,
I wanna get better
'Cause I'm sleeping in the back of a taxi
I'm screaming from my bedroom window
Even if its gonna kill me
Woke up this morning early before my family
From this dream where she was trying to show me
How a life can move from the darkness
She said to get better
So I put a bullet where I shoulda put a helmet
And I crash my car cause I wanna get carried away
That's why I'm standing on the overpass screaming at myself,
"Hey, I wanna get better!"
I didn't know I was lonely 'til I saw your face
I wanna get better, better, better, better,
I wanna get better
I didn't know I was broken 'til I wanted to change
I wanna get better, better, better, better,
I wanna get better
The video is hilarious. The song rocks. And it fits appropriately into my life right now.
I'm not depressed. Really. I'm not. This isn't a 'cry for help'. I'm not going to jump off my roof or crash my car anytime soon, neither of which would probably do me in. But Robin Williams' death rattled me. Not because I was a fan, but because he was SIXTY-THREE and STILL suffering.
*sigh*
Doesn't it get better at some point?
Friday, August 8, 2014
"Age has its advantages. Too bad I don't remember what they are." -Maxine
I made it 3 years!!
The true test is to go further. I've been sober 3 years once before and it all went downhill after that. Not that "3 years" was the impetus that got me started drinking again. No, it was my own stupidity. "One won't hurt!" Yeah, ONE won't hurt. It's the following 11, 12, & 13 that smart a little. So I'm thinking I'll make it another year because now I'm so smart.
So what am I doing on this joyous day? Going to appointments. I had my med-check appointment and there was no change there. Mood is still a 7. Irritability, anxiety, etc are manageable. No side effects from meds. Good to go. Then I went to my yearly doctor exam. If I could forego this exam, I sure as shit would. I don't care if I've got cancer in my va-jay-jay. I'm certainly not contracting any STD's. So what's the point? Torment. And they won't give me my birth control (which I obviously don't use for birth control - that's just a happy bonus) if I don't have a yearly exam. So I suffer through.
I bitched & moaned about how much weight I've gained; how hard I workout; how little (I feel) I eat; how just looking at food makes me gain 5lbs....and she basically told me I'm old. "That's what happens the older we get...Our metabolism decreases." Decreases?!? Shit! Mine left the building. It's across town, probably guzzling beer! *sigh* She drew blood to check my thyroid but I'm not holding out hope it's out of whack. I'm just old. This is what happens. It's all downhill from here. I told her I just need to stop eating altogether. She looked at me like I was on crack.
So after getting 2 shots & blood drawn (all on my left side so I'll be able to sleep on my right tonight), I ventured home to eat lunch, read & nap. The sun is shining. The temperature is near 80. There's a decent breeze blowing through my open windows. The coffee is delicious. The turkey burger I'm broiling smells even better. Elvis is fat & happy. I'm fat & relatively happy. What more could I ask for?
Happy Birthday to me!
The true test is to go further. I've been sober 3 years once before and it all went downhill after that. Not that "3 years" was the impetus that got me started drinking again. No, it was my own stupidity. "One won't hurt!" Yeah, ONE won't hurt. It's the following 11, 12, & 13 that smart a little. So I'm thinking I'll make it another year because now I'm so smart.
So what am I doing on this joyous day? Going to appointments. I had my med-check appointment and there was no change there. Mood is still a 7. Irritability, anxiety, etc are manageable. No side effects from meds. Good to go. Then I went to my yearly doctor exam. If I could forego this exam, I sure as shit would. I don't care if I've got cancer in my va-jay-jay. I'm certainly not contracting any STD's. So what's the point? Torment. And they won't give me my birth control (which I obviously don't use for birth control - that's just a happy bonus) if I don't have a yearly exam. So I suffer through.
I bitched & moaned about how much weight I've gained; how hard I workout; how little (I feel) I eat; how just looking at food makes me gain 5lbs....and she basically told me I'm old. "That's what happens the older we get...Our metabolism decreases." Decreases?!? Shit! Mine left the building. It's across town, probably guzzling beer! *sigh* She drew blood to check my thyroid but I'm not holding out hope it's out of whack. I'm just old. This is what happens. It's all downhill from here. I told her I just need to stop eating altogether. She looked at me like I was on crack.
So after getting 2 shots & blood drawn (all on my left side so I'll be able to sleep on my right tonight), I ventured home to eat lunch, read & nap. The sun is shining. The temperature is near 80. There's a decent breeze blowing through my open windows. The coffee is delicious. The turkey burger I'm broiling smells even better. Elvis is fat & happy. I'm fat & relatively happy. What more could I ask for?
Happy Birthday to me!
Wednesday, August 6, 2014
"If you need one of those cars that parks itself, maybe you shouldn't be allowed to drive at all." -Maxine
Well, I think my body has finally recovered from helping my brother move all of his stuff from my house to his new one. Only took 3 days and my back still hurts a bit & my forearms are still a bit sore, but for the most part, I'm recovered.
I took a load of his stuff to his house Thursday afternoon when I picked up a key. I took another load over on Friday when I sat with the appliance delivery guys. And then he & I spent all day Saturday (9am-2pm) moving more stuff. We first loaded up his recliner and a bunch of boxes and took that over. Trying to get the overstuffed recliner through the basement door & down the stairs was not an easy task. I had sweat in my eyes. But that was the most difficult thing we had to do, so I was happy. We hauled two loads of junk from his old house to the dump. We drove back to my little hamlet to get another load of stuff and then back again to get the final piece. Thankfully Mom & Dad were done with their work for the day so Dad could help with the final piece (because I thought there was no way I'd be able to load a large computer cabinet into the truck.) They made it look easy.
After all of that, with my garage looking like I could park another car in it because I had so much space now(!), Mom, Dad & I loaded up their old deep freeze from their house & moved it to my garage. Finally! A freezer I can store food & ice in! My refrigerator freezer sucks ass. It's a side-by-side and the freezer has minimal space and the top shelf is broken so I put very little on it, which leaves about two shelves for all my food and no space for ice. I have no ice. Ever. Sorry. You want a cold drink, bring it yourself.
We plugged in the deep freeze to run over night and when I went out the next morning to clean it, it was still warm. The temperature hadn't changed at all. Broken.
*sigh*
At least they didn't haul it to my brother's house and down those basement stairs. I've lived without ice and with a small freezer for a year. It's not going to change anything for me. And I figure I have plenty of room to store the thing and give my parents more space in their garage, so it's all good.
I relaxed Sunday. Literally did nothing but eat, read and sleep. I needed it. I needed a day of nothing. Then I woke up Monday morning and could barely move. It takes a full day to feel the full effects of hard labor. I mowed Monday, sweating my ass off.....again. I gotta say, while I enjoy sweating - it really makes me feel like I'm accomplishing something and working myself hard - I'm awfully tired of it. Yesterday, I ran to Walmart to stock up on food. This morning, I finally worked out. Really worked out. And sweat my ass off all over again. You'd think, with all this sweating and moving and lifting and hauling, I'd have lost 5 pounds. Nope. Not an ounce.
*sigh*
I'm proud of myself. It may seem ridiculous to a normal person, but for me, to be able to make all those trips to ATL, to be able to carry those boxes from the basement to my car and down to my brother's basement (can you say STAIRS?!?), to be in a good mood and not irritable during all those trips, to physically be able to do all that AND mentally able without wanting to kill someone, whew! You bet your ass I'm proud. I can't express how happy I am that I was able to help my younger brother.
And now it's time to recuperate.
I took a load of his stuff to his house Thursday afternoon when I picked up a key. I took another load over on Friday when I sat with the appliance delivery guys. And then he & I spent all day Saturday (9am-2pm) moving more stuff. We first loaded up his recliner and a bunch of boxes and took that over. Trying to get the overstuffed recliner through the basement door & down the stairs was not an easy task. I had sweat in my eyes. But that was the most difficult thing we had to do, so I was happy. We hauled two loads of junk from his old house to the dump. We drove back to my little hamlet to get another load of stuff and then back again to get the final piece. Thankfully Mom & Dad were done with their work for the day so Dad could help with the final piece (because I thought there was no way I'd be able to load a large computer cabinet into the truck.) They made it look easy.
After all of that, with my garage looking like I could park another car in it because I had so much space now(!), Mom, Dad & I loaded up their old deep freeze from their house & moved it to my garage. Finally! A freezer I can store food & ice in! My refrigerator freezer sucks ass. It's a side-by-side and the freezer has minimal space and the top shelf is broken so I put very little on it, which leaves about two shelves for all my food and no space for ice. I have no ice. Ever. Sorry. You want a cold drink, bring it yourself.
We plugged in the deep freeze to run over night and when I went out the next morning to clean it, it was still warm. The temperature hadn't changed at all. Broken.
*sigh*
At least they didn't haul it to my brother's house and down those basement stairs. I've lived without ice and with a small freezer for a year. It's not going to change anything for me. And I figure I have plenty of room to store the thing and give my parents more space in their garage, so it's all good.
I relaxed Sunday. Literally did nothing but eat, read and sleep. I needed it. I needed a day of nothing. Then I woke up Monday morning and could barely move. It takes a full day to feel the full effects of hard labor. I mowed Monday, sweating my ass off.....again. I gotta say, while I enjoy sweating - it really makes me feel like I'm accomplishing something and working myself hard - I'm awfully tired of it. Yesterday, I ran to Walmart to stock up on food. This morning, I finally worked out. Really worked out. And sweat my ass off all over again. You'd think, with all this sweating and moving and lifting and hauling, I'd have lost 5 pounds. Nope. Not an ounce.
*sigh*
I'm proud of myself. It may seem ridiculous to a normal person, but for me, to be able to make all those trips to ATL, to be able to carry those boxes from the basement to my car and down to my brother's basement (can you say STAIRS?!?), to be in a good mood and not irritable during all those trips, to physically be able to do all that AND mentally able without wanting to kill someone, whew! You bet your ass I'm proud. I can't express how happy I am that I was able to help my younger brother.
And now it's time to recuperate.
Friday, August 1, 2014
"Nobody knows the trouble I've seen -- and nobody knows I caused most of it, either." -Maxine
Almost immediately after posting this morning's rant about how I don't know what the hell is going on, or when the hell anything is happening or where the hell I'm supposed to be and what the hell I'm supposed to be doing when I get there (whew!), I got a call from my 77-year-old-tattoo-friend from CB. She wanted to come visit me and was I busy? *sigh* If only I'd had a simple answer. I told her, "Well, I don't exactly know!" That pretty much sums everything - EVERYTHING - up. I don't exactly know.
We decided to meet at my house at 12:30, regardless of whether or not I had to go to ATL (surely I'd be done well before Noon, if I had to go, right?). We'd have a late lunch. It'd be great.
As soon as I hung up the phone, I looked around my house - the house I was just thinking, "Next week you have got to clean!" and realized it looked like a cat lived here & no one else. So I raced around dusting, Swiffering, bleaching the kitchen sink, cleaning the entire damn bathroom and then my phone jingle-jangled and I had to run to ATL to sit with the appliance delivery guys. I was sweating. I made it in time for the girlfriend to get to work on time and then I sat and finished my book. For TWO HOURS. Around 11:45 I was trying to reign in my panic that they weren't going to finish in time and then my friend would be sitting outside my house and I wouldn't be there and I'd feel bad she'd have to wait and I'd be racing all over and did I leave any underwear laying around the house?
*sigh*
I smoked a cigarette.
They were done, exactly at 12, and I ran around locking up the house and turning all the lights off and leaving notes for my brother and then I bolted out the door and flew - FLEW - home. As I turned the corner, I could see no car waiting for me and was so relieved - that I'd beat my friend to my house AND I didn't get a speeding ticket on the way home (because I'm pretty sure they would have just taken my license right then & there). I got inside, cleaned some more and then my phone rang - it was my friend. She was just leaving CB.
LOL
All I felt was relief. I could relax! I could slow down! I could breathe! I could wipe the sweat off my brow and cool off! Whew!
She arrived much sooner than I expected (was everybody speeding today?) and we headed out to lunch. We had a fabulous time catching up.
Sometimes I feel overwhelmed with happiness. I have such fantastic parents. I just don't know what I'd do without them. Be homeless? For sure. Never have a working toilet? Definitely. I'd have little joy in my life without them. And then there's my younger brother & his family. So proud of him and all he's doing and happy my parents can help him, too. Even though he's my younger brother, I look up to him for all he's done and accomplished and persevered through and is able to laugh constantly, regardless. And multiple friends who send me the same job posting because they thought I was a good fit. And those who travel miles & miles to come visit me and take me out to lunch. And me - that I'm able to listen, laugh, converse, support, help, carry heavy objects laden with spider webs, drive back & forth and back & forth, and sweat my ass off for all the people I love.
Of course, sometimes I feel sad & depressed, angry & furious, anxious & irritated, annoyed & frustrated and just plain want to bury my head under the covers.....but those feelings are for another day.
Now is for happy.....and if not happy, then at least content.
I'll take it.
We decided to meet at my house at 12:30, regardless of whether or not I had to go to ATL (surely I'd be done well before Noon, if I had to go, right?). We'd have a late lunch. It'd be great.
As soon as I hung up the phone, I looked around my house - the house I was just thinking, "Next week you have got to clean!" and realized it looked like a cat lived here & no one else. So I raced around dusting, Swiffering, bleaching the kitchen sink, cleaning the entire damn bathroom and then my phone jingle-jangled and I had to run to ATL to sit with the appliance delivery guys. I was sweating. I made it in time for the girlfriend to get to work on time and then I sat and finished my book. For TWO HOURS. Around 11:45 I was trying to reign in my panic that they weren't going to finish in time and then my friend would be sitting outside my house and I wouldn't be there and I'd feel bad she'd have to wait and I'd be racing all over and did I leave any underwear laying around the house?
*sigh*
I smoked a cigarette.
They were done, exactly at 12, and I ran around locking up the house and turning all the lights off and leaving notes for my brother and then I bolted out the door and flew - FLEW - home. As I turned the corner, I could see no car waiting for me and was so relieved - that I'd beat my friend to my house AND I didn't get a speeding ticket on the way home (because I'm pretty sure they would have just taken my license right then & there). I got inside, cleaned some more and then my phone rang - it was my friend. She was just leaving CB.
LOL
All I felt was relief. I could relax! I could slow down! I could breathe! I could wipe the sweat off my brow and cool off! Whew!
She arrived much sooner than I expected (was everybody speeding today?) and we headed out to lunch. We had a fabulous time catching up.
Sometimes I feel overwhelmed with happiness. I have such fantastic parents. I just don't know what I'd do without them. Be homeless? For sure. Never have a working toilet? Definitely. I'd have little joy in my life without them. And then there's my younger brother & his family. So proud of him and all he's doing and happy my parents can help him, too. Even though he's my younger brother, I look up to him for all he's done and accomplished and persevered through and is able to laugh constantly, regardless. And multiple friends who send me the same job posting because they thought I was a good fit. And those who travel miles & miles to come visit me and take me out to lunch. And me - that I'm able to listen, laugh, converse, support, help, carry heavy objects laden with spider webs, drive back & forth and back & forth, and sweat my ass off for all the people I love.
Of course, sometimes I feel sad & depressed, angry & furious, anxious & irritated, annoyed & frustrated and just plain want to bury my head under the covers.....but those feelings are for another day.
Now is for happy.....and if not happy, then at least content.
I'll take it.
"I'm the peacemaker in my family. That should give you an idea of what the rest of my relatives are like." -Maxine
I'm feeling totally discombobulated and that makes me very anxious.
I've decided it takes me about a year to acclimate myself to new surroundings. And even then, I'm only comfortable in my routine. For example, these days (because I'm still unemployed) I wake up later than I normally would, workout (or mow), bathe, clean the kitchen, take care of Elvis, check FB & email, drink copious amounts of coffee, eat lunch, read, nap, sit in the sun if it's nice out, read some more, watch t.v., eat my salad, watch more t.v., go to bed, read and fall asleep. Randomly, I'll have an appointment (therapist, med-check, doctor, haircut) but I have plenty of warning ahead of time to plan for that. I've driven to ATL & AVC enough times to feel comfortable, but I cringe when I think about winter. Pshaw, that's months away!
But this week, I'm all out of sorts. It's been really dry here the last month (July) so my grass hasn't grown enough to warrant mowing so every morning I just wake up, look at the grass.....and become completely indecisive. I mowed last Wednesday. So 9 days ago. I feel like surely the grass needs mowed, but then I look at it, I walk around in it and decide it'd be stupid to mow. I like to be able to tell that I've mowed. So, now it's Friday and it rained last night so the grass is too wet to mow early (if I even wanted to) and I may have to go to ATL to sit at my brother's new house for an appliance delivery anyway so there'd be no time to mow.
Which is another thing that's got me totally discombobulated. My younger brother closed on a new house Wednesday. His girlfriend & her kids moved a lot of stuff yesterday (they may be done - I don't know) but I needed to get a key last night so I could let the delivery guys in today. I've been storing a lot of my brother's stuff in my basement (& around the house, re: office chair) so had loaded my car with boxes & stuff yesterday morning to haul over. I had no idea what time I'd be going over; if he'd be bringing me a key so then I'd be unloading the stuff today by myself or if I'd go over there, pick up a key, and unload my car then.
I don't do well when there isn't a plan. I don't do well when I don't know what's going on. I don't do well when things are up in the air.
Yesterday wasn't so bad. I drove over to ATL late afternoon, met the girlfriend at the new house, unloaded my car, picked up a key and was on my way. BTW, I love, love, love the house. It's old. Tons of character. Plenty of room for everyone (including the two dogs & cat). It'll be a great home for them.
But this morning I woke up feeling completely disoriented. What am I doing today? I can't mow because it rained last night and it's too wet and besides I don't know when I have to go to ATL if I even have to and what am I wearing today? Do I have time for coffee? I hope they have TP over there because I'll be peeing like a racehorse. Maybe I should bring a roll just in case. *sigh* I probably won't even have to go over. Loading up my car last night with more stuff was stupid. Where am I going? What time is it? WHAT AM I DOING? ELVIS! STOP THROWING UP!
I tell myself it's really not that bad. Either the girlfriend texts me that she needs me to come over because the delivery guys aren't through yet and she has to go to work in which case I can unload my car and everything will be back to normal, though I haven't made a trip to Walmart since last week because I'm out of money and am waiting for my food stamps to 'refill' and that makes me feel out of sorts (like I'm suddenly going to run out of food? Come on!) OR, she texts me that they're all done and she doesn't need me to come over in which case, I sit here all day doing nothing. Not relaxing because god forbid I calm down enough to relax. And the loaded car is no big deal. He's going to need this stuff anyway and needs to come over tomorrow (Saturday) for him & Dad to load up the big stuff and haul over so I'll just make the trip then.....in the afternoon...which is my "downtime".....which won't happen tomorrow so that day's going to be out of sorts, too. Am I going to mow tomorrow? I hate mowing on the weekend. My neighbors cars are always in the driveway and I'm always afraid I'm going to throw something from the mower and ding their cars. OK, I'm definitely not mowing this weekend. The grass has waited long enough...it can wait two more days!
*sigh*
See? See what my mind can conjure up when there isn't a plan?!? I NEED A PLAN! This is also why I hate "pop-ins" - people who just pop over whenever they feel like it without calling ahead or letting me know. Drives me bat-shit crazy. I know, I know. It isn't like I'm doing anything but I find it rude & disrespectful and those are my big triggers to start on the path to crazy town.
I need a brain overhaul.
I'm just going to continue sipping my coffee, calmly (anxiously) awaiting a text, and try to not give a shit about "schedules" & "plans". I wish I was someone who loved spontaneity. I'm not. Clearly.
I should have worked out this morning. Maybe that would have calmed my anxiety. But yesterday I made the mistake of working out and then deciding to haul heavy boxes & bags from my basement to my car and I thought I was going to fall down the stairs because my body was so tired. So this morning I decided (!) not to work out because I'm going to be unloading my car later this morning and that's a workout in & of itself. However, I might not be unloading my car until tomorrow in which case, I really should have worked out this morning.
AAAAARRRRRRGGGGGHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!
I need a pill.
I've decided it takes me about a year to acclimate myself to new surroundings. And even then, I'm only comfortable in my routine. For example, these days (because I'm still unemployed) I wake up later than I normally would, workout (or mow), bathe, clean the kitchen, take care of Elvis, check FB & email, drink copious amounts of coffee, eat lunch, read, nap, sit in the sun if it's nice out, read some more, watch t.v., eat my salad, watch more t.v., go to bed, read and fall asleep. Randomly, I'll have an appointment (therapist, med-check, doctor, haircut) but I have plenty of warning ahead of time to plan for that. I've driven to ATL & AVC enough times to feel comfortable, but I cringe when I think about winter. Pshaw, that's months away!
But this week, I'm all out of sorts. It's been really dry here the last month (July) so my grass hasn't grown enough to warrant mowing so every morning I just wake up, look at the grass.....and become completely indecisive. I mowed last Wednesday. So 9 days ago. I feel like surely the grass needs mowed, but then I look at it, I walk around in it and decide it'd be stupid to mow. I like to be able to tell that I've mowed. So, now it's Friday and it rained last night so the grass is too wet to mow early (if I even wanted to) and I may have to go to ATL to sit at my brother's new house for an appliance delivery anyway so there'd be no time to mow.
Which is another thing that's got me totally discombobulated. My younger brother closed on a new house Wednesday. His girlfriend & her kids moved a lot of stuff yesterday (they may be done - I don't know) but I needed to get a key last night so I could let the delivery guys in today. I've been storing a lot of my brother's stuff in my basement (& around the house, re: office chair) so had loaded my car with boxes & stuff yesterday morning to haul over. I had no idea what time I'd be going over; if he'd be bringing me a key so then I'd be unloading the stuff today by myself or if I'd go over there, pick up a key, and unload my car then.
I don't do well when there isn't a plan. I don't do well when I don't know what's going on. I don't do well when things are up in the air.
Yesterday wasn't so bad. I drove over to ATL late afternoon, met the girlfriend at the new house, unloaded my car, picked up a key and was on my way. BTW, I love, love, love the house. It's old. Tons of character. Plenty of room for everyone (including the two dogs & cat). It'll be a great home for them.
But this morning I woke up feeling completely disoriented. What am I doing today? I can't mow because it rained last night and it's too wet and besides I don't know when I have to go to ATL if I even have to and what am I wearing today? Do I have time for coffee? I hope they have TP over there because I'll be peeing like a racehorse. Maybe I should bring a roll just in case. *sigh* I probably won't even have to go over. Loading up my car last night with more stuff was stupid. Where am I going? What time is it? WHAT AM I DOING? ELVIS! STOP THROWING UP!
I tell myself it's really not that bad. Either the girlfriend texts me that she needs me to come over because the delivery guys aren't through yet and she has to go to work in which case I can unload my car and everything will be back to normal, though I haven't made a trip to Walmart since last week because I'm out of money and am waiting for my food stamps to 'refill' and that makes me feel out of sorts (like I'm suddenly going to run out of food? Come on!) OR, she texts me that they're all done and she doesn't need me to come over in which case, I sit here all day doing nothing. Not relaxing because god forbid I calm down enough to relax. And the loaded car is no big deal. He's going to need this stuff anyway and needs to come over tomorrow (Saturday) for him & Dad to load up the big stuff and haul over so I'll just make the trip then.....in the afternoon...which is my "downtime".....which won't happen tomorrow so that day's going to be out of sorts, too. Am I going to mow tomorrow? I hate mowing on the weekend. My neighbors cars are always in the driveway and I'm always afraid I'm going to throw something from the mower and ding their cars. OK, I'm definitely not mowing this weekend. The grass has waited long enough...it can wait two more days!
*sigh*
See? See what my mind can conjure up when there isn't a plan?!? I NEED A PLAN! This is also why I hate "pop-ins" - people who just pop over whenever they feel like it without calling ahead or letting me know. Drives me bat-shit crazy. I know, I know. It isn't like I'm doing anything but I find it rude & disrespectful and those are my big triggers to start on the path to crazy town.
I need a brain overhaul.
I'm just going to continue sipping my coffee, calmly (anxiously) awaiting a text, and try to not give a shit about "schedules" & "plans". I wish I was someone who loved spontaneity. I'm not. Clearly.
I should have worked out this morning. Maybe that would have calmed my anxiety. But yesterday I made the mistake of working out and then deciding to haul heavy boxes & bags from my basement to my car and I thought I was going to fall down the stairs because my body was so tired. So this morning I decided (!) not to work out because I'm going to be unloading my car later this morning and that's a workout in & of itself. However, I might not be unloading my car until tomorrow in which case, I really should have worked out this morning.
AAAAARRRRRRGGGGGHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!
I need a pill.
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