It's About Time.

When I first began blogging it was for one specific reason--venting.  I needed a place where I could get things off my chest that were bothering me so I could get on with life without cumbersome emotions or baggage.  I had ONE blog at that time.  When things got tough, and they often were, I would visit my blog and unload to my heart's content, not giving a single iota to being politically correct or holding back out of some delusion that I somehow had to be 'polite' here.  The venting would ensue, fall upon the screen, and I would be left to bask in the aftermath of some seriously epic purging of thoughts, feelings, and more.  In the end I would usually go back and delete the long-winded and emotionally-charged entries, knowing I could do so now that some time had past.  That blog still exists and I still post in it as often as possible, and I named it "All Things Ephemeral" for a reason, even if that reason no longer exists.  Let me explain....

A few years ago I made the decision to stop deleting the entries.  Being honest with myself I realized that I was deleting so as not to 'hurt feelings' of those I vented about.  No matter that I left off names and details that would give much away to the wrong set of eyes reading, I decided it was somehow 'impolite' to share even my feelings and experiences.  Boy, was that ever stupid.  I'm glad I came to my senses and stopped editing the content over some perceived butthurt it may cause someone else.  But, did I really stop editing my own entries after all?  Well, today I figured it was something worth investigating.

I often come here and stare at the blank screen where bits of my life would fall and wonder... "How can I actually talk about this?"  I know as I write just how much I'm holding back, even when I don't WANT to.  Still, the struggle to set myself free remains just that--a struggle, even today.  Even when I know the healthiest thing I can do for myself is write about it, get it out of my system, it's remains incredibly difficult just the same.

What I want very much to do right now is to take the first step in 'going there,' to talk openly instead of using a string of allusions to piece together a story that, when all is said and done, remains unclear and ill-explained because of that fear below the surface of truth.

A Bold First Step

My next blog entry will be in This Free Spirit, and I tell you this because it will ultimately be the first blog entry in many years where I hold little if nothing back.  With failing health I need all the help I can get to break the bonds of emotional servitude, and the first step is to open myself completely to the idea of 'almost' full disclosure.

Wish me luck....

Why Dream?

I used to dream a lot.  I used to believe that pretty much anything was possible.  I also used to believe that people in your life who say they love you also want your dreams to come true, for you to be happy.  But the truth is--no one really cares about your dreams, desires, and often... they don't even care what you NEED.  But what if your dreams ARE what you need?

I hear the chatter, the whispers on the web and witness the effects on women everywhere when disconnection takes over their lives.  Meaning, the disconnection of whomever they're with, the disconnection that divides, hinders, then ultimately destroys dreams.  It's there, and the blind are those who seek to control and tell that person---they're not allowed to have that dream.  Or worse, to insist that the dream isn't possible.  You can DREAM it but you can't HAVE it.  That message seeks to destroy.

I have dreams every now and then when I can pry myself away from the chronic pain, the debilitating pain as it is on most days right now.  They creep in subtly and often fade just as quietly as they arrived.  More times than not these days, however, I'm fighting against that negative force that reminds me daily that I need permission to dream, to want more, to see my life outside of what it is at the moment.  When I reach for better... my hand is slapped away every time.

Why dream then?  Why waste the time and energy to think, to visualize, to want something better than what I have?  Why envision my life as it was before I became sick?  Why bother at all?  Because the times that I give up it feels a little like dying.  I can't explain it more than that, but it's what it feels like---as if life is absolutely over.

I have to think about that.

"You've chosen lessons of pain"

I received a message with this video in it yesterday.  I have no idea who the person is who sent it... but, oddly.. this is one of my favorite songs and one I listen to every night.  Headphones on, dark room, and songs to obliterate the thoughts....

Getting it ALL off my chest.

Well, it's a little cathartic to be able to vent, to scrutinize, to assess, to get it all out when something's bothering me.  If you want to know exactly what I'm talking about... it's HERE.  PART I and PART II were needed as this was, well, you'll see if you're curious enough to go there and read.  The discussion was about Beta men vs Alpha men and the necessary balance of power in a relationship.  I'm past that now, moving on, and wondering what the hell I'm going to do about my life as it is at the moment... not much of a life at all.  Aren't I always struggling with this?  Don't answer.

Exhaustion overcomes on the other side of stress.  I'm pretty much there at the moment and fighting like hell to defeat its encroachment.  What I'm left with is a familiar struggle to find my strength and focus again.  It's okay.  It is what it is.

I have to face each day like I don't remember the one before.  I can't allow myself to have any regrets, or allow the sense that I lost yet another 24 hours of my life.  There aren't any do-overs.  What I do is wake and think to myself.. "Today is the day."  It's a mantra of sorts, and one that has yet to actually work.

I'm spent.  Working on those two hefty entries has left me with virtually nothing.  So, if you're curious... click on the link above to read the most of today's crapola.

Watching the sun from my bedroom window.

NOTE: I spent a good deal of time on my other blog "All Things Ephemeral," just in case you're curious about that.  A few updates, etc.

My days are spent mostly in my room.  "My room" is basically my personal space for creativity, decompressing, etc.  It's become where I sleep now due to the fact that I toss and turn most of the night due to pain.  T snores something awful, which makes sleeping worse.  So we can BOTH sleep, we've decided to take that up in separate rooms... which does help.  I couldn't sleep at all with a freight train next to me. :/

My room has two tall windows which are covered by light colored/natural bamboo roman blinds.  I keep the blinds closed, but diffused light still comes through.  My days aren't terribly happy ones--to say the least, and depression is with me much of the time.  I mean, who wouldn't be depressed being sick and painful 24hrs a day?  But I'm in there trying to relax, trying to feel better---waiting to feel better, occasionally searching my phone to amuse myself when I can't sleep, and listening to music when I'm up to it.  I love music, but sometimes I'm so painful that I need absolute quiet.  Yes.. it sucks big time.

Last night was a very difficult night for me.  Let me first say that when I have moments when it all just overwhelms me, it's not that I feel sorry for myself.  What I do feel is immense frustration that my body has become my worst enemy.  I wait things out, am careful, try to exercise but fail miserably, and my body doesn't respond to anything.  Anything that is except prednisone, and i'm NOT taking that again.  So my days are spent ticking off the minutes, the hours... until the day is gone and lost forever.

In the mornings the sun rises and brings light through my bedroom window, and I'm filled with hope. Hope that today will be better, that the pain will finally subside, that I can move without weakness, without all this pain.  Those thoughts carry me through the day until the day is gone, done, when the light changes and signals that the opportunity has passed... again.

The sun rises and sets outside of my room, signaling only one thing--that I lost that battle again.

Last night, late evening as the sun began to set, and like so many other times... I felt despair wash over me.  I couldn't stop it, and in many ways didn't want to.  I needed to feel this in order to move past it all.

So sick of all of this.

The Similarities of Day to Day Life.

Or shall we call it "A life of perpetual sameness"?  Either way, I'm going to make damn sure I change this.  I have to.

I've posted enough here for you guys to know where I am at the moment.  Dealing with communication and respect issues from T, issues that make themselves known every day and every night without fail.  You also know by now that my tolerance for this is extremely thin, verging on non-existent.  Notwithstanding innocent goof and human blunders, somewhere in the chaos one has to actually SEE the damage being done.  "I" see the damage because I'm a recipient of most of it, but T sits quietly on the river "Denial" and refuses to move.  Ok.  Whatever.

He doesn't like my bluntness and doesn't want me to say aloud the truth that threatens not only to completely destroy this relationship, but the truth that's destroying my peace of mind, health, and happiness.  He's in blissful ignorance, so I don't have any choice other than to say exactly what's on my mind.

When I'm trying to open a discussion, when I need to point out behaviors in someone that TRULY need addressing, I use non-combative phrases.  I speak of how I feel, what the harmful behavior is, but I don't point fingers, name-call, label, etc., because that approach causes damage as well.  I know how to communicate, as long as people allow me to communicate.

Repeatedly disrespecting me is a huge deal and would be for pretty much anyone.  Not allowing anyone to disrespect me was a lesson only recently learned, so I'm still a little awkward with it and finding my balance and strength when approaching the subject.  I'm getting there.  Now, in the process I've become fairly blunt when I've taken all I can, and all PC is out the window.  I speak my mind now while doing my best to preserve the other person's (in this case T) self-esteem.  I've no interest in becoming what I most despise so won't allow myself to go there.

T believes that when I point out what he does that hurts, offends, and disrespects me.. that it's a form of disrespect and that I shouldn't say anything at all.  But I assure you, that approach NEVER works and is, in fact, quite harmful to relationships and the individuals.  If I shove down my feelings, ignore the disrespect, and take the punches in silence... I will eventually resent that person, and that person right now is T.  No matter how I try to explain this--he doesn't get it and shows no indication of trying to understand or stop the disrespectful behavior.

Again, as I've said many times before, I'm not trying to make T out as a bad guy or to demonize him. He's NOT a bad guy--he's just blind to the things he does and doesn't do that greatly and adversely affect me in so many ways.  I hang in there for the obvious reasons, and I do so because I hold hope very close, hope that he'll see what he's doing so it can be stopped.

I may be a bit foolish for relying on hope this way given my past experiences and hope-filled failures.  But there's no reason NOT to hope.  In fact, hope is the great buffer of all things, isn't it?  Life tends to slip apart when hope is lost.

Damage control: There's been a lot of this with most being unsuccessful.  And I'm no stranger to damage control given past relationships that left me holding the weight of fixing everything.  One person CANNOT fix a relationship, nor can one person break it.  If a relationship is going bad, guaranteed there are TWO people at fault, even if it's the behavior of one and the acceptance of that behavior by the other.  It takes two people to break a relationship and two to repair it; an absolute truth.

Sometimes there are victims, yes, but 'most' victims are willing.  Meaning, when you have a way out of a bad situation and don't get on board with preparing things, and if you stay and suffer the damaging consequences.. then you've willingly participated in that damage.

As for me, I was a willing victim.  I played the martyr in love more times than I like to admit.  My role in a past relationship which did a LOT of damage to my self-esteem, body, etc. I take full responsibility for.  I remained in a bad situation, and though I believed that he and I could fix things I refused to see and acknowledge (for far too long) that the weight of that burden was planted fully on me.  I should've left at the first sign of serious problems.

I should have bailed when the relationship began changing the way I saw myself, how I thought of myself, when it began to depress me and fill my entire world with anxiety.  I should have been my own best friend and stood up for ME.  Instead, I did everything I possibly could to change into the distorted version he wished me to become.  It doesn't take a genius to understand that my acceptance of abuses, be they emotional or physical, would nearly destroy me as a person; I get it NOW, but I didn't get it THEN, not until it was too late and the damage was done.

I had to forgive myself more than the other person, because it was ME who let myself down.  I didn't have my own back, and I allowed everything till nearly the end.  It wasn't until I had a TIA and ended up in the hospital (very shortly after the last blow up) did I realize to what degree I'd been beaten up inside and how it had shattered me.

In the hospital the doctors asked about my level of stress, had I been dealing with major life changes such as a death in the family, financial hardship, and/or a breakup.  That was the first time the lightbulb went on and I began to introspect as I lay in that hospital bed with nothing but the hum of the heater to interfere with what came to me.  The realization was harsh, brazen, and shattering in its truth.  I had to get out of the relationship; I had to let go; and I had to do it to save my life.

This wasn't a comfortable awareness when it came blazing out of the deep recesses in which unpleasant things go to smolder.  But there was nothing I could do, really, but allow it into the light and face what it was, what I'd always known but refused to acknowledge.

So the burning question for most people at this point, after hearing/reading about my experience, the question everyone I knew at the time had is: Why the hell did I stay so long?  I stayed because I was in love with him.  Isn't that why any of us stay in bad or toxic relationships, because of our feelings and our sometimes misguided hopes that he/she will change?

I wouldn't find out until much later, until it was far too late and the damage was taking over my life and destroying happiness, that the person I fell in love with didn't really exist.  If you've read my blogs for a while you've heard me say this, and that's because the realization that I fell in love with a lie is profound and one I struggle with today for obvious reasons: You can't say goodbye to someone who doesn't exist.

The mask slipped and I discovered the truth beneath.

To this day everything about me struggles to reconcile who I thought I loved with who I was actually dealing with.

I believe that this problem of irreconcilable truths, for me, is fanning the flames of what's happening in the current relationship.  While I knew this was a possibility there wasn't any reasonable way to prepare for the experience itself.  On one hand being protective is necessary, but on the other hand.. always being poised in defense isn't a good idea either.

This emotional struggle could end with closure; something I will never have.  I can't say goodbye to someone who never existed, now can I?

Yeah... and therein lies the biggest problem of all.  This fight, this struggle permeates day to day life.  T's disrespect, whether purposeful or accidental permeates day to day life.  Health problems worsen and take over day to day life.  There seems to be no end to this....

One Pass and I'm Done.

I've had to accept the fact that, for now, I'm not running the show called "My Life."  Where I was once the cast, director, producer and writer, I've been pushed aside, fired if you will, by Prednisone.  Today, for example, I made one entry in All Things Ephemeral and I'm absolutely drained, both physically and emotionally.  No amount of coffee is fixing this.

Where do I go from here?  The same place I always go--to my room.  My soft place to fall now is my own space, a place that is completely all mine and mine alone, a place that looks, feels, and even smells like my world, my life, and exists as the most familiar and soothing retreat I know.  It shouldn't be this way.  People should have people in their lives, someone who will listen like a friend, like someone who cares.

I will survive, even if it's mostly on my own.  I've made the decision to NOT burden my sons with my health issues, so I'm on my own.  The 'friends' I've made in my life weren't really friends at all, or at the most just fair-weather friends who only want to be in my life when it's completely convenient and doesn't interfere with their pink cloud existence.  It's okay.  I've come a long way from being hurt by this and know that I honestly can do very well on my own with this.  Would it be nice to have someone to talk to?  Sure.  But it's not something I have to have or need that much.

In a perfect world life wouldn't be this isolated, but I don't live in a perfect world by any stretch of the imagination.  I give in to my emotions to strip them of their power.  If I feel like crying, I do.  If I feel angry or anxious or confused, etc... I allow myself to feel those things, and every time it strips them of their power over me.  This is my life now.  And I accept this.

At the moment I'm self-protective, but that can change in the next moment depending on what's going on or how sick or painful I feel.  For now I'll absorb the shock, the knocks, the punches that life dishes out.  I'll be okay despite everything... and this is something I tell myself every day.

Too sick to keep writing here, so I'll sign off.  Not sure if I'll make entries in my other blogs, so two may have to be my limit for today.  So I guess TWO passes and I'm done.  It happens.

A Deliberate Derailing

It happens when we least want it to.  That sucks, huh?  But I discovered something today about the ole train of thought, and that's knowing when to purposely derail that bitch!  Across my blogs I've tried to focus on what needs to be done with my current health situation, relationship situation, etc., and what I found is that my mind just kept staying on what is currently happening that I can do nothing about.  I mean, it will drive you nuts if you don't have answers for something extremely pressing, like health or relationship issues, and I am not immune to that at all.  Given the level of frustration, I need to do something to completely and totally derail my train of thought, and I could really care less where the wreckage lands at this point.  There will be chaos when that thing jumps the track, but maybe a little chaos is what's needed to force a little organization to the situation.  Right?

Let's go!

Right.  Now did you really think it would happen that easily for me?  It's okay, though.  My main goal is to feel better, feel GOOD, be happy, healthy, and have a mostly-peaceful life in which I can thrive and survive.  I can't even begin to consider wasting precious time on those trivial things that many take for granted.  I won't even go into all of that here.

There's a bigger picture.

Every time I make a mistake, meaning straying from the current daily goals I've set for myself, I feel a little frustrated.  Not a lot, but enough to get my attention.  I've been posting like crazy in all of my blogs in order to sort things out and redirect my thought processes in a different direction; not really away from the problems but more towards what I can do to help my situation.

It's a lot like slight-of-hand when you're both the magician and audience; there's just some things you can't really hide from yourself no matter how hard you try; the illusion always gives itself away.

Outside of actual magic or parlor tricks my mind continues to actively search for answers.  Currently, even if I'm given good information, accurate information I'm left with more questions than solutions to my problem.  So do I just let go and ride the rails on a runaway train of bad health and confusion?  Or do I keep focusing this somewhat nervous energy towards learning, understanding, and exercising patience where it has little chance to survive?  Do I force my mind to focus on trivial matters or escapist literature or... staring at the television lost in a daze of fiction?  Will those things keep me from overthinking this whole health mess?

See?.... always ending with yet another question.  Well, that just sucks.

Write/Delete, Write/Delete...

It's been that kind of a day.  And it's also been a while since I've done that, you know, write something only to delete it a few minutes later.  Yep.  It's totally that kind of day already.

It could very well be I'm still not quite recovered from the epic crash I experienced yesterday, something I'm assuming is Azathioprine side effects kicking in.  My Dr. increased the dosage big time, so I guess it's bound to happen, and from what I've read it's going to take a few days or so for the side effects to ease.  Until then, I just have to go with the flow and be nice to my body.

It didn't help that I woke up to a mess to clean up in the kitchen.  This wouldn't be an issue except for two things: 1) The mess was necessary and created out of carelessness.  2) T didn't bother to clean any of it up.  Something spilled on the cabinets, the floor, the counter.  It's really difficult right now for me to bend over to do anything because of the wicked lower back pain.  But I do what I have to do when I can, and this particular mess couldn't be ignored.  I'll pay the price for having cleaned it up, but again... I do what I have to do.

If I could just wake up one day, just ONE day, and not have messes to clean up.  If I could just have that little bit of 'nice' first thing in the morning, that would be awesome.  I'm sitting here, yes, remembering that particular brand of peace that comes from living alone.  I know a lot of people understand this, because I've spoken to a few lately about this very thing.

So how do I get this 'peace' here and now?  Not sure, exactly, because there's so much going on, so much that needs addressing.  My health.  Issues with T's indifference and carelessness in many matters.  I don't even know where to begin until my body reminds me that it all starts with good health.

My dream, my goal.. is to just get healthy.  And boy, that's another talk show after what I experienced yesterday....

....Another talk show entirely.

Family--Beating My Head Against a Wall

To say I come from a dysfunctional family is putting it mildly.  Further back than my own memory reaches my siblings have hated me.  No, really, I'm not making this up or being dramatic.  I don't talk about this much because it brings a lot of sadness and discomfort, anger and resentment rushing to the surface.  It's a long story, really, and one with gaps and holes and far-reaching voids where many memories have vanished.  It would be oh so much easier had I been adopted, because I know virtually nothing about my family tree, for all the asking I've done over the years, and my parents are both deceased with my having absolutely NO idea where I came from, who my ancestors are, or what my connection is to any of them, if at all.

I was a "Mistake," according to my mother.  Now, my relationship and experience with my mom is a story in and of itself, and honestly... I could write a novel here about that.  But I'm not going to.  Let's just say my mom was disconnected by the time I was born, old enough to be my grandmother, and about as unplugged as a parent could get.  It was easier to micromanage and control everything to a damaging degree, rather than create experiences that may have given me a chance and coming out on the other side with less 'issues.'  Yes, of course I have issues, and in a way it was my mom's only legacy.

How is it that I could know little of nothing, if anything, about anyone in my family tree?  Well, that's easy--when you don't answer questions, share nothing, and ensure that not a single photo, letter, information, etc. gets passed down to you... well, you can't ask a dead person questions.  Point blank, not pretty, but absolute truth just the same.

Everything from health/medical information was shared primarily with ONE of the 6 children, and I wasn't the one who got the information.  My eldest sister was my mother's confidant, her go-to gal, and there was an almost too-close relationship between my mom and my oldest sister (old enough to be my mom).  I spent my entire life on the outside, looking in, and it was that way until my mom passed away (over 20 years ago now).

One sister and I shared a dad, and my other siblings share a father form my mom's 1st and only marriage.  Yep, my other sister and I were illegitimate.  I could really care less about that, to tell you the truth.  My dad was out of the picture when I was 18 months old, and my mother really never spoke of him or his family except for some really scary things, very dark and scary things.  Now, it shouldn't surprise anyone that if you scare a kid like that, they're most likely not ever going to ask too many questions.  This was the case with me.

The siblings who had a different dad hate me.  Just the truth.  I was even told that one reason they despised me was that, because we were very poor, they often didn't get as much milk (the example used by one brother and sister) because when it came down to the wire... "The baby" (me) needed it more than they did.  I can't speak for what happened when I was a baby.  I can't apologize for something that I didn't do on purpose.  Yet that resentment carried right into adulthood for my 3 brothers and one sister.  BTW, I don't really think of them as brothers and sisters because they've not treated me as such throughout my life.  What memories I have of life with them.. isn't good.

I was born very late, with my mom being in her early 40's when she had me.  All my siblings (but for one) was grown and gone and with kids of their own, so I pretty much grew up like an only child from about age 10.. when one of my sisters married and moved out (she was 16).  We lived in a 3 bedroom house that was eventually condemned, and my mother (a hoarder) used all 3 bedrooms as her hoarding rooms.  My sister, the one I share a dad with, had her own room, lots of 'stuff,' decorated walls, record player, records, clothes, and a bike.  I didn't have enough toys to even have a toy box, so even in this respect I would find myself living an entirely different life than my sister... and everyone else, actually.

My mom was absent, indifferent, cold most of the time...and even cruel.  Skipping over more details than will fit here, I will say that my childhood was very, very odd, and the damage done has proven to be long-lasting.  Still, I spent my life longing for a family, a REAL family.  Now, coming from a family with 3 brothers and 2 sisters you would think that a strange thing for me to say.  Aunts, uncles, cousins... really had nothing to do with me, but for one cousin who, I guess, simply took pity on me.  I felt the hostility from them all growing up and didn't understand any of it at all.  I felt it, saw it, heard it, and experienced that hostility until we moved away from California.  We moved to Colorado because my oldest brother wanted my mom to move there so she could babysit while he and my SIL could work.  I was in 8th grade when we moved, and my life didn't get better at all.

Longing for a real family... even to this day....

I would eventually move away from the state of Colorado.  My kids and I, to make a long story short as possible, ended up here in the south along the Gulf Coast, where we settled into that strange place (strange to us because we weren't from there) and would end up calling the south "Home."  It's the only place that ever felt like home to me.  I'm still in the south, but a little further north by a few short hours.  But back to "Family"....

When my mom passed, naturally my eldest sister got everything.  Very important items my mom was holding for me until I could send for them were divided amongst my brothers and sisters and nephews... or just tossed out as garbage.  They did this QUICKLY after my mother died, the day they found out, using the excuse that they were sure that since she was on disability, got a veteran's widow pension, and on Medicare, etc... that the 'government' was going to come in and take her stuff.  Yes, LUDICROUS, but that's the excuse they used.  And when I arrived for her funeral I wasn't even allowed to so much as have a photo of hers.  My eldest sister 'allowed' me to take ONE photo to have it photocopied.  My mom had boxes and boxes of photos, btw.

Few actually had anything to say to me at the funeral, or after.  It was the same shit, different day.. only worse.  A few years later I'd tried once again to make some kind of connection with them, but it ended in a total disaster.  I finally came to my senses and realized that I was the only one putting in any effort and that it just simply wasn't worth it.  I basically told my oldest brother and his bitchy wife to piss off.  And yes, it felt great and was LONG overdue.

In the present....

I know pretty much nothing of my family history, my family tree.  My last living grandparent died when I was 2 weeks old, and everyone else was so much older than me that no one really had anything to do with me.  My mom wasn't really forthcoming with names, histories, etc., though she did incorporate some names and such in a few fun stories she would tell from time to time.  But as a little child I really had no idea if she were making the stuff up/telling fairytales, or if the information was actually true.  And after my mom's death... the information about grandparents and such were simply not given to me, even if I asked.  Photos, etc.... all given to my sister, who claimed some neighbor stole them, were lost.  My brothers, etc. chose badly when they decided to give my sister everything.  One person said they thought my sister pawned or sold the framed antique photos of grandparents etc for money.  Sadly, it sounds exactly like something she would do.

The cruelty extends into adulthood....

When one of my brothers passed away a few years ago I was told about this AFTER the funeral had taken place, and... I was told on Facebook by a distant cousin.  She apparently looked for me on Facebook with ONE purpose in mind, and that was to send me a message that read.. "B**** passed away last week.  Thought you'd like to know."  I asked "How/why?" which lead to her replaying in the same short, blunt fashion. She then disappeared and didn't say a word ever again.  I'd written back a couple of times.. with no response.  I'd written my nephew as well, and have been ignored.  And this nephew I grew up with and was very close to most of our lives.  He's only 2 1/2 years younger than I am.

Cruelty was their favorite weapon, and continues to be so.


The family tree...

As someone who feels completely disconnected from 'family' or blood ties, history... it only stands to reason that I would, eventually, WANT to know something about my own family history.  SOMETHING.  ANYTHING.  So when I decided to look into www.ancestry.com I felt like I was taking a step in the right direction.  Maybe this site could help me put the broken pieces together in such a way that I would at least see my connection within the bloodline.

What I've done...

I created an account at www.ancestry.com over a year ago, but since I wasn't really willing to invest any money into getting a full account, I've only spent the smallest bit of time there.  But that changed for me about a week ago when I saw a commercial online for Ancestry and a DNA test they offered that shows where your bloodline is from, at least in percentages.  A lot of folks have jumped on board for this.  Now, one cool thing about the DNA test and having a real account (which I don't yet) is that you can set your family tree to allow links between matches for DNA, region, etc.  It's a lot more complicated than that, and they have a video that explains it all, but it's a really neat tool and a good place to start.  But what about for someone like me?....

DNA results may be the only thing I really get out of this, and that's okay.  It's something, isn't it?  It would be nice to know for sure what ethnicities are involved in my family tree, even if I don't have any family history to see how the pieces fit.  I sent my kit off today and, from what I understand, it will take about a week for the results to get uploaded online.  Knowing it's not going to give me complete picture of my family tree... I'm still okay, and I'm fairly patient where that's concerned.

So what's my freaking point here?

My point is this: If you have information about family history (names, places, etc) please share them with your kids.  Don't leave them in the dark to spend the rest of their lives wondering who they really are (history wise), where they're from, what their history is, etc.  It's really not a good or easy thing to live with when you have no idea about those things.  Don't do that to your kids, seriously.

My desire to know more about my family history/ancestry runs deeper than the hurt from the disconnection from my actual 'family members.'  I rarely use the word 'family' when speaking about them.  They're blood relatives to me, but nothing more.

I have to wonder if I'm beating my head against the wall trying to piece together a family tree I know nothing about.  Names, birth dates, etc. are required to even do searches or make connections.  What little information I have really just stops at my mom, and my dad I have only a name and birth date.  It's really like hitting a brick wall.  But is it worth it, all of this effort?  I don't know.

I really just don't know.  The one thing I DO know is that I'm left with the question: Will I ever fully understand myself in connection to history and ancestry?

*shrugs*

Trump Supporter Kambree destroys National Review

I'm posting this across my blogs, because this woman speaks for SO many of us.  The original video she made is a lot longer than this, but this gets to the key points directly.  She speaks for SO many of us....

Non-PC and Loving it

So much talk about politics and world affairs, and opinions and 'feelings' are running rampant in this country right now.  Most of us are sick of BHO and his BS, and it's really not surprising that many Americans have applauded Putin for his role in trying to take care of ISIS.  Not surprising at all.

I'm not 'un-American' for saying that, btw.  It's simply the truth.  When something needed to be done about ISIS, Obama sat on his ass and did absolutely nothing.  NOTHING.  It doesn't take a genius to see how Obama has disgraced us, nor to see how he will continue to do so as long as he's in office.  Hell-bent on destroying everything we are.  American values, our constitution.. means nothing to him.

While our prez sits on his ass or goes golfing, some of our soldiers were humiliated by Iranian assholes, assholes who are getting more than a billion dollars from Hussein Obama.  WTH is wrong with that guy anyway?  Who the hell does he think he is?... besides "king" and "ruler of all"?  Who the hell cares who he is at this point, because we can't stand the jackass and want him GONE before he completely destroys this country.

Now, this entry would've fit far better in my blog "The Crap I Spew," but I decided to post it here where my dreams and wishes and such often fall upon the pages.  I dream of a United States of America WITHOUT Obama.  I dream of a USA that isn't pandering to one religion or race or ideology.  I dream of a USA that refuses to grab its knees and bend over for anyone at all, but one that STANDS UP STRAIGHT and remembers who we are, what we are, and why we are.

This whole Muslim situation is a freaking train wreck.  No matter how much evidence comes to light with that "religion of peace" (NOT what I call it, btw), left-wingers continue to look at the flood of men and boys entering other countries, even here, under the guise of "refugees," and FAILING miserably to understand or recognize that the REAL refugees are the women, girls, and Christians who are targeted not only by ISIS but by 'ordinary Muslims.'  Do you understand this?  "Ordinary Muslims" kill their own for the most ridiculous reasons, guided by the Quran, acted out within the bounds of Sharia Law, a law and ideology that CONFLICTS with American way of life.  Who with ANY brain cells working doesn't get this?

Donald Trump asked the burning question we all have in our minds, the question of.. where are the women and girls, the elderly?  Why are nearly ALL of the so-called refugees MEN AND BOYS?  The question is a rhetorical one, really, because most of us know the answer...

WHY aren't those men and boys (teens) remaining behind to take care of their wives, mothers, sisters, daughters, grandparents?  Think about it.  Lakewood, CO is poised to receive 1,000-1,200 TEENAGE BOYS by this spring.  TEENAGE BOYS.  Not girls.  Not women.  Not the elderly.  Not families.  TEENAGE BOYS.  The women, the girls, the elderly, the Christians being persecuted, tortured and killed by ISIS AND the 'average' Muslim are being left behind.  LEFT BEHIND.

I'm sorry, but BHO is a liar and a fraud.  He uses ONE token Muslim family, a doctor and his family as a 'representation' of the refugees coming here.  Um, no.  They're NOT representative....

It's not complicated, folks.  READ the Quran and see for yourself what they believe, what they follow, what they're COMMANDED to follow.  It's not like they have something new to follow, a new testament if you will.  They follow the Quran.

I'm reading the Quran, one that comes with three scholarly translations for accuracy.  The passages are VERY clear.  Most of the left, if not all of the left, who claim they know so much about Muslims and Islam... have NEVER read the Quran.  Arm yourself with knowledge and make an informed decision.  Stop listening to what the left-slanted media tells you and look for yourself.  Listen to the former Muslims when they speak out AGAINST Islam.  Listen to the persecuted, watch the difficult stuff... like videos of ISIS burning or beheading anyone non-Muslim and/or anyone who breaks their rules.  More importantly, watch the videos and read the news reports showing "Average and ordinary Muslims" torturing and killing women, girls, etc... for some ridiculous infraction, most of the time based solely on an accusation without evidence.

If you want the truth, seek the truth, and seek it from the closest to the actual source.  When able, go directly to the source, in this case.. the Quran.  READ IT if you dare.  If you want to know what their ideology is, if you want to see that the so-called 'religion of peace' isn't peaceful at all, that it's a political ideology FIRST and something they call 'religion' second, read the Quran.  If you don't want to purchase the book itself, there are many university web sites who have it all posted online with several scholarly translations (for accuracy).

Read the Quran, I dare you.  Read it and figure out for yourself what Islam is, who and what their so-called prophet is.  I dare you.

I will say again that our current POTUS is a fraud and a liar.  I will also say that I was stupid enough to vote for him THE FIRST TIME.  I learned, and I began listening.  I didn't listen to ineffective people who tried to use shame and humiliation to try and sway me, because that doesn't work on me and never will.  Logic, fact, etc... THOSE are the things that work, not ridicule.  People who use ridicule to try and change someone's mind are simple fools who lack anything substantial to say, and they resort to ridicule and mockery because they have NOTHING at all to offer.  Thankfully, I did have someone who talked with me at length about the Obama admin, of which I'd already grown tired of and mistrustful, and he did it in such a way that it made perfect sense, in a way that appealed to my intelligence, rather than emotion.  T is a genius, literally, and knows more about history in great detail than most who teach it.

So here I am sick and tired of BHO and his BS, sick of the career politicians and their fake-ass smiles, empty promises, and dull-minded platitudes.  They're empty suits, every one of them.  Ted Cruz, Jeb Bush, Marco Rubio.... empty suits.  And on the democratic side.. we have one seriously crazy-ass lunatic (Bernie Sanders) and a lying hag (Hillary Clinton), which most of us now are crossing our fingers that she'll be spending her time in PRISON for her crimes.

I'll hop off the soapbox now.  It had to be said.  After last night's GOP debate with Ted Cruz insulting New Yorkers, with his rehearsed, stiff comments and disingenuous rhetoric, with his stereotypical politician chopping hand movements, his smug arrogance... I had just had to say something, because he is the epitome, as Bernie and Hillary are, of what we DO NOT NEED IN THE WHITE HOUSE!

As for Putin---I'm with Trump when I say that we should just let him go after ISIS, because someone with BALLS should!  Our prez... BHO... is nothing but a weenie, a coward, and a snake.  Putin has put BHO to shame and continues to do so.

I love this country.  I love that I'm an American.  I love what this country stands for and feel there is simply no other like it in the world.  I'm sad for this country, for the division Obama has ignited and fueled, for the way people are now trying to erase history blur the lines of right and wrong while claiming they know what is or isn't 'right.'

BHO is a disaster for this country, and those of us who applauded Putin on his stance against ISIS are applauding someone who took the initiative to do the right thing without waiting.  BHO... only continues to do what's right for HIM personally, and relentless signing of executive orders is just one way he's doing this.

Dare we hope Obama grows a set of balls and does the right thing? Yeah. Right.  When pigs fly.

...Ok.  'Nuff said about this for now.

The Autoimmune Merry-Go-Round

Not as fun as it sounds, I'm afraid.  But seriously, finding the right treatment dosage appears to be more difficult than I first thought.  And truthfully, I would rather avoid going through the returning symptoms as I taper from prednisone.  No idea what the solution is, but my appointment was moved from the 25th to tomorrow due to the difficulty.  Imuran may be added.  Not sure.  Doc mentioned it on the phone. And.. I'm a little nervous about that since people tend to have trouble when taking it.

We will see.

Jury's out on what will happen going forward.

My wish right now is to feel well, healthy, and be myself again.  Is that so much to ask?  Forget answering, because that question is the biggest mystery of all right now.  My life, left to the whim and whimsy of an invisible force.

Not okay with that, but I understand it nonetheless.

Where do they dream?

I guess in a too-short life dreams become more of a necessity than an option.  Guarantees of tomorrow, or even an hour from now, simply don't exist.  NO ONE has been given a guarantee that they won't wink out in the next instant.  Kind of a 'duh' statement, isn't it?  I mean, we know this, but yet... we don't know this.  With every decision we make we prove to the world at large how we still feel immortal, and yet it's a whole lot like walking the edge of the cliff.. at night.. with sunglasses on. Which little misstep or prophecy of nature will send us over the edge when we least expect it?

Yes.  It's lunacy to focus on mortality.  But it's genius to be aware and not take things for granted.  What's YOUR life IQ?

If I had a dollar for every time I heard someone say 'Don't take life for granted,' I'd be a very wealthy woman right now.  Saying it is easy.  Putting it into practice is an entirely different thing.  So how do I put it in practice?  Crazy as it sounds, I don't hoard life.  THAT'S how I put it into practice.

Hoarding life.  How does one actually do this?  Well, while it's wise to save for the future, plan for the future and all it could hold, we have to remember that the key here is the word "Could."  Again, no guarantee means we also have to live NOW, not to take experiences or people for granted.  Live NOW....

Take that long-put-off vacation.
ACT on the things you wanted to get done and haven't.
STOP procrastinating on the important stuff.
RECOGNIZE the importance of being in the moment every single day without fail.
Buy that album.
Go to that concert.
Have that special meal.
Eat a dessert once in a while.
Savor the moments you love.
LOVE.
RESPECT.
APPRECIATE.
And for God's sake LET GO of the people and things in your life that cause chronic anxiety, unhappiness, and feelings of depression.

That is so not the full list.  But it's the basic idea behind everything, really.

In a world based on uncertainty I hear people talk about what they're going to do when they retire.  And I have to wonder.. did YOU get a memo saying you'll actually reach retirement age?  Nooooo.. I'm not saying blow your life savings, because that would be utterly stupid.  But what I'm saying is.. do those things, as many as you can NOW, because even if you reach retirement age you may not be healthy enough to do those things.

This is what I want.  I want to live now, not later.  One thing finding out I have a chronic, life-long, incurable illness is this: If I don't follow my dreams and indulge my heart now.. I may not get a chance later.

Well then... I've had a lot of coffee this morning, haven't I?

Changing the Dialogue to "Yes. It's okay to take care of ME."

I don't feel like writing another entry.  My body hurts, and putting AIH into remission is going to be a bitch.  But I have to allow myself that time, you know, to heal, to mend, to just be okay about how this needs to evolve.  It isn't comfortable saying I'm going to take care of myself.  I've spent my life as a mom, so caretaker is really the only title I ever knew.  As a child, my emotionally absent mom who preferred psychological torture and punishment, made it so even then I knew deep down that all I had was me.  Somehow, I made it.  Somehow that child survived.  And somehow.. I will continue to do so.

I'm fighting like hell not to lay down, to give in to the discomfort and pain, fatigue and sluggishness that began returning with the first taper-down of prednisone.  I'm fighting that, because if I don't... it will win.  And I can't have that.  So what I'm doing now is continuing to reassess where I am and planning a strategy that I know will help me.  Some of this I can do on my own, and some of this I will need help to keep that forward momentum.  T would be instrumental in that IF he were plugged in, here in the present, and not mired in doing the bare minimum required in life overall just to get by.  How can someone that unmotivated be so successful financially?  Don't know.  What I do know is that I'm mostly on my own, and that means all focus for healing must be spent aimed in the right direction.

Remission is the goal.  Feeling GOOD, even GREAT is the goal.  Being happy, healthy, inspired and excited about my life... THAT is a goal.  MY goals.  No matter if I have the actual stamina at the moment to make it all happen at once, but I can't give up.  What energy I have will now be directed solely at taking care of me.  I have to.  My survival depends on it.

I know what I need.  I've always known what I need.  There have been a couple of people in my life who decided THEY were experts on what I need.  And they were and ARE completely WRONG.  I knew this then, and I know this now.  My approach now is to listen to myself, because no one is an expert on me.. except me.

T has no idea what I need.  He's not horrible, mean, nor hateful (well, except on a couple of occasions when he chose to be an asshole and regretted it).  He is, in some ways, worse than 'mean.'  To me, indifference towards another person, not SEEING them, HEARING them, and unplugging because you're lazy is far worse in many ways.  But I'm not going to focus overly on that, because my point here is that he is of no help.  I have ME.

I've had to say it out loud, my truth.  I've had to say the words that make it real so I can take every measure to improve my chances and LIVE.

I have an autoimmune disease.  The one I have attacks my liver, specifically, but wreaks havoc throughout my entire body, leaving much damage in its wake.  I have Autoimmune Hepatitis, and I will have this disease for the rest of my life.  I don't have all  of the answers.  I don't know my specific odds just yet.  It's too soon with treatment for me to know anything but what I feel and experience daily as I strive for remission.

How long will remission last? Unknown.

The odds are great that most with AIH will relapse within 12-24 months, and with a second (or multiple) relapses prognosis becomes more grim.  I know with a second relapse I will be placed on an immunosuppressant, and most likely for life.

The drug that helps me hurts me.  But it's a necessary evil, because the alternative is early mortality if this isn't treated quickly and appropriately.  This is an aggressive disease that requires aggressive treatment in most cases.

There is a chance, a good chance, that I will never ever feel 100% like myself again.  There will be good days and bad days, and I won't be able to predict which days will be which.

This disease can and often does cause secondary problems, such as pulmonary.  I have to accept the fact that this has already occurred.

I have portal hypertension, and though it's mild at this time, it points to the presence of liver damage. I will believe, until told otherwise, that this damage is mild.

I wasn't told I have fibrosis or cirrhosis.  I will accept that as confirmation that I don't have those problems.  Yes, I know that this 'don't ask' policy I've taken on is a little silly.  But I'm sure my doctor would've told me it were the case if I had either.

This inner dialogue is what I live with now.  My constant mantra as I taper down the prednisone has returned to: "I can do this!  I can do this!" as I go about my usual daily routines and chores.  I talk myself through everything.

I miss that first week on Prednisone, when I felt the pain subside, my energy return, and my thinking clear.  I don't know if that feeling of returning good health is something that will return.  I don't know much of anything at the moment.

I understand that what little information that is out there for this disease simply isn't enough to help me understand what's happening to me.  I'm confused and need answers.  But there simply isn't enough out there for me to glean any real understanding of this situation that has radically changed my life.

I'm told I have the "Type 2" variety, that mostly effects young women... but can happen to older women too.  Type 1 is rare enough, but Type 2 is even more rare, and often with a poorer prognosis as those patients, patients like me, often don't respond well to treatment protocols, have partial success, or quick and multiple relapses causing further liver damage.

I know diet doesn't help, it doesn't heal, it has no effect except in the case of salt intake and cirrhosis. I don't have cirrhosis, so I'm not sure how much salt will effect me if at all.  I can't turn to diet to fix this.  Nothing will fix this.  Treatment is management of the disease, as there is no cure.

I understand that NOT treating this disease brings early mortality, so I'm planning on sticking with the protocol, even if it does bring on board unpleasant side effects.  Weight gain, etc with Pred is a given.  Been there, done that, and one struggles terribly after coming off to take this corticosteroid weight gain off.  But.. I suppose choosing life and some weight gain at first is better than death.

So be it.

The dialogue in my life has changed.  My inner dialogue has changed with the circumstances, and I have to learn how to deal with T's insensitivity where I'm concerned.

...which is another entry for another time.

Because the Discussion Changes

It's not in one place.  If you're new here, this is what you need to know about my blogs.  The problem with putting all thoughts into one place is that looking for relevant information becomes a treasure hunt of sorts where you only find the dragon in the end, rather than the gold. Okay, so I'm not saying what I have to say from one day or one moment to the next is 'gold,' but my sense of humor is working overtime today... just bear with me on that, okay? ;)

This Free Spirit is one such place, the newest in the corridors here.  It's kind of my safe place, in a way, though visiting the ghosts of the past is often the case.  "Abuse Bonds Broken" is, for me, a way to help myself, and to help others, who've dealt with malignant narcissists.  It's really not always about the worst of the situation, nor is it always just about purging the demons.  My goal there is to help, but to also bring healing for myself in the process.  And process, I do.. more times than not, this is exactly what I'm doing there.

The stories and such aren't often pretty.  But life with a narcissist and emotional abuser rarely is, right?  In essence--you're not going to find unicorns there.

Where Fireflies Dream is a place where the sun is SUPPOSED to shine a little brighter, where life is a little lighter, fuller....  But let's face it; as life smacks me up-side the head on occasion, the lines between the great and not-so-great begin to blur.  In essence--you won't often find unicorns here either.  But I'm trying...

All Things Ephemeral .... because the discussion changes.  This was the original blog, the one where most of the laughter, contemplation, silliness, passion, and tears were cast upon the pages.  It was overwhelming at first, really, because there were NO lines drawn between anything; it began as a place to purge anything and everything.  This also used to result in many posts being deleted.  Yes, I still do that on occasion, delete posts, but very rarely now.

Boo's Juicy Bits  Well, now THIS one has gone absolutely rogue, I have to admit.  It began when I started juicing, then evolved as I embarked on a healthier diet, then went completely rogue because of the health issues that have come on board.  This blog... let's just say ANYTHING could end up here.

Why?  Because the discussion changes!  And because we live in a world that has become increasingly indifferent, where people can't 'concern' themselves with the emotions, experiences, etc. of another human being.  This is not accusatory, by the way.  It's simply a sad fact.

While not everyone is safely wading in that comfortable pool of ones own life, some are simply unable to step out... be vulnerable.  No matter.  These blogs... are just me stepping out of that comfortable place.

"You've got issues, darlin..."

Spilling Over

I guess I should remind some of you who may not know, that if something is bothering me particularly.. I will most likely post it in all of my blogs.  The spillover from one to the next is just something that's going to happen.  Most of the time I aim to separate what I'm talking about between each one so that the meaning isn't really lost in context.  Make sense?

My blogs overlap, though they're meant to be focused in one aspect of my life or another...

Boo's Juicy Bits:  The main aim here is health, diet, eating, all the things that support and give us a foundation for a good (or bad) life.  There's so much to this part of health, so there will be at times an overlap as to what's going on the pages.  If life is getting in the way, or helping me on my way, the details will most likely end up there as well.  And don't be surprised if you find sexually-focused chatter on there as well.   The information is all connected in one form or fashion anyway.

Where Fireflies Dream:  Created as a place for whimsical thought and ideas to play, an expression of who I am, how I dream, what I want, and the things that can or do hold me back from my greatest expression of self within my life as it is at any given point.  Again, be aware that at times topics of a sexual nature will most likely appear in posts.  Don't say I didn't warn you. ;)

This Free Spirit:  The newest blog and one I feel is necessary, even critical for me.  It's a place to talk about abuse.  Been there, done that, and still haven't gotten 100% past the damage, to say the least.  My goal with this is sharing in hopes it will help others, but also to have a place to talk/deal with the lasting effects of my experiences.  This one will often have chatter of a sexual nature as well.

All Things Ephemeral:  Originally, this one was created to let it all hang out, a no holds barred kind of place to talk about EVERYTHING in great, bloody detail.  The nature of doing this means that, in the past, I would often delete posts after a day or two, a week, a month, whatever... because it was a bit much to leave just sitting there for the whole world to see.  However, this is changing.

I will be taking that no holds barred approach with posting there soon, as it's one of the greatest barriers I need to cross in order to heal.  Like Pavlov's Dogs I learned through experience that expressing myself openly meant I would pay a price, a high one at that.  But since this is no longer the case I plan on resuming, for personal growth and healing, my once bold approach to using this blog exactly as I intended---a place for me to be free to express myself in any way I see fit!

Onward...!

What's left

I have to admit that beginning another blog that focuses on emotional abuse, etc., has been good for getting things out that have needed letting out for some time now.  And even if I can't help myself through this, then maybe I can help others.  There will be entries of what I've been through, how I felt about it, their effects on me then and now, and much about moving on, recognizing where I've been and how it's changed who I am--for better or worse, and how my world is post-nightmare.  Either way, it's all good considering.  Considering...

I have so far to go even still.  In the aftermath there remains no closure.  I will find peace with it all eventually.

Today I'm in a place that's leaving me tired, worn, and still as confused as ever.  The situation with T is still an ongoing thing in which it appears he has no desire to change the behaviors that hurt, belittle, and depress me.  Depression is rage turned inward; I'm sure you guys have heard that.  And it's true.  The trick in getting past that is to know WHO or WHAT you're actually enraged at!  Fun stuff.

In my world, as it is now, I have to make my own way through the muddle without a support network.  All the health issues, the isolation, the loneness that comes with being in a new place and too sick to get out and meet people, it all has taken a great toll on everything I am.  There IS a strong element of depression, situational as it may be, it doesn't seem to want to lose its hold.  Taking an antidepressant is completely unappealing to me, and it's not an option anyway due to being on a blood thinner.  So the question remains---so now what?  Tired of having that question hanging overhead while seemingly no answer exists for this dilemma.  Crap.  Crap.  and CRAP.

*shaking my head*

Another day perhaps...

PART 2: Selfishness as a matter of convenience (Where's the respect??)

I'm unimpressed.  I'm completely unimpressed by T, and by the way most guys treat women.  In my particular case, the disrespect is dehumanizing, demoralizing, belittling, and disappointing beyond anything I've known.  It's not just this relationship, but in the past as well.  My choices have NOT been the greatest, and my guess it's because I'm trusting and take people at face-value.  This is NOT a good thing.  At all.

As of yesterday a new low has been established, and I'm in no position to do anything about it.  Thus is the case when dealing with control freaks who refuse to see that they're actions are completely selfish and self-serving.  DON'T VOLUNTEER to do something for someone if you're only going to use it to gain control over that person!  DAMN!  How hard is that to understand?

All my doctor's appointments are now between my doctors and T.  Why?  Because ALL appointments aren't about what's necessary, or needed, or critical, or about doing tests etc in a 'timely fashion.'  Nope.  NOW my appointments are about what's convenient for T.  It's about what he does or does not feel like doing, what works with his schedule (he's been told he needs to use a lot of his leave or lose it), and none of it has a thing to do with... me, you know, the actual patient.

Yesterday was a disaster, stressful beyond reason, frustrating in that I'm basically told I no longer have any control on when or what time I get an appointment.  *sigh*  One major symptom of late makes it dangerous for me to drive much beyond a few miles of my house.  Dizziness/vertigo doesn't exactly translate into "safe driving."  So I'm stuck for the time being, screwed beyond reason, because I have to wait for T to decide when I can see my ENT or Neurologist regarding the severe tinnitus, vertigo and dizziness that's come on over the past couple of weeks.  I sit.  And I wait.  For HIM to decide when it's a good time to see the doctor about this.

Why the F***K am I here????!!!!  Being here is unhealthy, both physically and emotionally.  It's detrimental to my health and well-being, and the inner workings of living in this house with T has destroyed my quality of life.

Now, some of you know my recent history with relationships and know what I've gone through.  I also know what you're most likely going to say to me and expect that email eventually.  It's okay.  Send it on.  Maybe I need to hear that.. 'again.' ;)  Either way, you're most likely seeing something familiar in all of what I'm writing, in which case I will say... I do too.

More later.  I promise... the flood gates are open now...

Finally.