A brief update....

Just because...

Part II: Generally speaking..

Or not so generally speaking.  Or whatever.  Or....

Part I: Generally speaking....

NOTE:  So there were some issues with the audio quality, music in the background too loud... anyway, I will replace the original with one that is easier to hear.

Well, this...

So want to drop the F bomb a few hundred times today.

Today actually began as a good day, overall, all things considered.  But like far too many other times, the second T gets wind that I'm having a good day, am happy, am smiling, joking, hopeful... like lighting his ego strikes out and ends it all.  If he wasn't hovering about today like one of those cartoon storm clouds I'd be doing an audio, because.. DAMMIT my shoulder hurts.  So be it.  I don't mind 'that' kind of pain.

I needed a couple of warm shirts to wear over the Winter.  Most of my other clothes are still too uncomfortable to wear or just not warm.  Many are just worn out and in need of replacing.  Free shipping to store with 40% off and it's an easy fix.  Ha.  So I thought.  I'm beginning to believe T is hell-bent on not allowing anything at all to be "easy" in any way, shape or form.  With coats on, a few feet from the back door, and I look outside and remembered to remind him (he never remembers ANYTHING on his own) that the newly built deck is in need of sealing.  Deck guy said seal around the 30 day mark, which is now.  It was a reminder, something I thought about as I looked out the breakfast nook window on our way out.  And that is as far as we made it.

His replay was short and as snotty as a hormonal 13 year old girl.  He lashed out, was ugly as hell about it, and transformed into the proverbial nagging 'wife.'  His words stung, struck deep, and... brought tears to my eyes.  The latter is something that doesn't happen often anymore, not since my last relationship which all but buried the good parts of me and drove them crashing inward.  But the tears came silent, without words or any other sound.  Honestly, I just looked back out the window and wondered how such a simple, benign comment would turn him into a complete and utter asshole.

Such is the case with many guys of our generation.  Damn, I should've called this entry "The pussification of mankind," because this seems to happen far too much across the board.  But enough of this fucked up generation.

He immediately followed his hateful outburst to demanding we hurry up and go because he had stuff to do.  Um.  Okay.  The conversation that ensued after is likely just a plethora of minutia that probably won't serve this 'tale' well, so.. I'll leave those details for another, less-emotional entry.  Still,  T just threw himself into tantrum mode and went with it, un-checked.  He was so lost in his own bullshit he didn't even realized I'd pretty much emotionally checked-OUT myself.  The tears had stopped, and I was left absolutely numb on all accounts and sleepy as hell.  Yeah, I recognize the signs of depression well having been here before.

Once again he demanded we leave.  I told him, as I sat there in that lovely numbness, that I was trying to find the willpower to give a shit about going.  And I wasn't lying.  This has been my reaction to most of his crap lately---going numb and just ceasing to care about anything.  I recognize that as well.  So I stood, took off my coat and went to hang it back up in the entryway closet.. with him blabbering away about something I honestly couldn't 'hear' anymore.  'Damn,' I thought... "Did I just tune him out?"  I'm pretty sure I did and wasn't aware of it at first.

I went around the house turning a few lights on, turning the computer on, and raising the thermostat so the heat would also come on.  By that point I was so cold I was shaking, and it took everything I had not to walk into 'my room,' crawl in bed and go to sleep.  I fought it like crazy but ended up falling asleep at the computer trying to watch something on Netflix.  Basically, I shut down.

He's tooling about outside, burning leaves and limbs, etc., which is really what he wanted to do all along.  But instead of being a grownup, a MAN, he chose to be a spoiled child and threw a tantrum instead of saying.. "I have some stuff I need to do, so let's go afterwards or tomorrow."  Is that so fucking hard to say?

I'm numb still, depressed still, and homesick as hell.  This is pretty much how it happens whenever he gets pissy like he did.  I begin missing the only place that felt like 'home' since I was a kid living with my mom.  Not one single place in my life has felt like 'home' until I lived in the apartment in Mobile. God I miss that place so much, MY place.  It was my sanctuary.  It was my home... for almost 13 yrs.

I can't turn back the clock.  I can't get my apartment back.  And I know 100% that this damn house will never ever feel like 'home' to me.  This place has been poisoned by a person who has to control everything including the living, breathing things around him.  I thought my peace, my joy... would be set free if we moved here, away from the city, away from the noise, and into a neighborhood that would feel and sound like what I was used to.  Well, I should've known better.  I should've known that the only way I would ever be at peace is to be with a person who is peaceful.  And I also know how vastly different "INDIFFERENCE" and "PEACEFUL" are.

An indifferent person doesn't give a shit.  A peaceful person cares deeply and strives to maintain peace through doing what's right.  How is it that so many people don't get this?  On many levels I've understood this, though I didn't make the actual comparison until the last 5 years.

Demanding peace, rejecting change, forcing change, and ignoring responsibilities (all of them, including emotional and moral ones) does NOT bring peace but chaos.  Being a control freak not only hurts the person (whether they see it or not), but it also hurts the people closest to them.

The proof is in the pudding, as they say, and this is no exception.

I'm sick to death of fighting my way past T's crap, the debris of his indifference and intolerance.  I've been here before and it stinks to the high heavens like misery.  I reject completely the idea that I have to live in a joyless life, empty and void of all happiness and possibility.

Dammit, but NO ONE deserves to live this way.

I'm trying very hard to not hate men for the first time in my life, and the ONLY saving grace I have in that is I see how my sons turned out, all good, decent, selfless men.  At least their generation has some hope.  Not so much mine.

Chaos, whatever. I mean, seriously?

I made this audio entry yesterday, but I'll be making another today.  DAMN but life has GOT to change...

Part II: Christmas, and the ghosts of relationships past.

...as promised.

PART I: Christmas, and the ghosts of relationships past.

Self-explanatory, yes?

PART III: Malignant Narcissists, Revisited.

By request.... PART III.  And Julia, I will post the video of the song in question at the end.

PART II: Malignant Narcissists, Revisited.

By request.... PART II.  Part III is next.

PART I: Malignant Narcissists, Revisited.

This is part one of two.  Part two will be done and uploaded tomorrow....

Thoughts, Scattered.

....As is the case these days.  AKA... pardon my ramblings.

Audio Blog continues...

Healing being what it is, and a slow process at that... audio blog continues.  Rants, etc....

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....

The Art of ASSuming & The Most Powerful Thing To Be....

I spent the last 1/2 hour or so talking on the phone to a friend of mine, who also has a blog as well, and we talked about life, health, girl stuff, and so on.  During the course of the conversation, and as the conversation settled into more meaningful, deeper topics... we both came to the realization that scrutiny is good, and ASSumption is bad.  Okay.  Sounds silly when you put it like that, but why confuse the issue with pretty words?

Somewhere between acquiring information and implementing reason something can go very, very awry, and the consequences aren't anything to write home about.  So why do people fall prey to the rather weak lure of assumption when the truth is often, though not always, fairly interesting?  G and I concluded that we definitely are in the middle of a dung-pile of thrill-seekers who can't handle being removed from the most caustic drama available.  And when it's not available... they set about constructing the facade that will most assist them in their endeavor to be shocked, appalled, thrilled, and mortified.  How crazy is that?  Well, maybe it's not crazy at all.

Humans thrive on drama.  Whether you have drama in your life or not, and it doesn't matter who's fault the drama is, people just can't seem to help themselves when said drama isn't up to par for their taste.  It takes talent, G and I agree on this, and we believe that in all seriousness people hone and perfect this skill that is not at all unlike mental heroin.  Once people try it.. they can't do without it, and when their 'stash' of drama runs low, or it's just not doing it anymore for them, they have to enhance it somehow.

Right before G and I hung up so we could, you know, blog about it (grin)... we both thought there was, in so many ways, a certain kind of power with being honest with blogging AND life.  When you realize your advantage, when it finally hits you that you're actually in a position power... the anger against having ASSumption being projected on you... that's the moment you win.

The most powerful thing to be, hands-down, is underestimated.

Now, this isn't anything new.  I've known this, as most do, my whole life.  Or at least fairly early on at some point... usually in childhood.  Even if we don't recognize it right off deep in our gut we know.  The first time someone doesn't believe us when we're telling the truth--realization sets in.  And either then, or later on in life, at some point in time... you understand fully that the moment people don't give you credit for having intelligence is the moment they relinquish their own power.. to you.

People who don't respect you try, even subconsciously, to discredit you.  This is a very strong form of underestimation of you as a person.  This means they underestimate you, therefore, can't predict what you will say, do, or think at any moment in any situation.  The mistrust they infuse doesn't move beyond themselves and, therefore... they weaken their own ability to 'keep up.'  My question in all of this is.. "Why on earth would they deliberately assume the position of weakness?"  Well, that's something only those people can answer.

I can be amused by all of this easily.  However, as G and I agreed, there's a certain element of pity that comes into play when you realize that when people choose to inject ASSumption into truth that their lives must become terribly distorted as a result.  How can anyone find anything good if the distortion becomes a barrier to actual communication?

At this moment I can visualize G blogging away frantically---excited to know she's not as powerless as she once thought.  It was a good conversation.

Off to re-post on my other blogs, then to read G's blog...

What a weird freaking day.

The Real Donald Trump

Dan Scavino said today that it's a shame the media will never talk about or show the kind heart that Donald Trump has. Those of us who grew up seeing the interviews from as far back as the 80's know he wasn't hated but rather watched in awe. How could a super wealthy guy could be so... down to earth? Well, he just is, and he always has been. While the media and establishment try their best to bring him down ...it just doesn't work, and it won't because most of us who support him already know of him. We've paid attention because, well, how can you not? So when you hear the slander and lies, and they are lies, remember this: A lie will travel the world and back while the truth is still putting on its shoes.

The Best Part of My Day

Mornings.  Especially mornings when I am alone and able to just sit in the stillness, drink coffee, and let my mind wander.  Even though I don't feel well (an understatement) I love mornings like this and am a little sad to see the sun go down at the end of the day, knowing that the evenings are FAR from my favorite.

Laying awake at night means research, learning as much as I can with what I KNOW I'm dealing with, as well as what I "may" be dealing with, health-wise.  The more I learn the better prepared I am to face whatever is to come.  The worst part about he uncertain aspects of my health is not really knowing if I'm wasting my time or not.  Given evidence, things I've learned, the larger part of me (no ass jokes, please) still believes that it's imperative that I know, learn, and be ready.

But then the morning comes.

My eyes are puffy when I wake, and they seem to continue to remain in that state.  This could be a prednisone issue that will resolve once I get down to the minimum dosage of 5mg/day, or it could take my coming off the prednisone completely before this, and other side effects, resolve.  But in the mornings the puffiness and pressure reminds me that things aren't as they should be and that I have to take every minute, every movement, every chore or task one by one and decide what it is that day I can or cannot do.  Still, mornings are the best part of my day.

I make no demands on myself anymore but for the task of simply getting out of bed.  Sounds depressing, doesn't it?  It needn't be, though, and I find my way through the day simply because I CAN still get out of bed.  It's an accomplishment at the moment, I promise.

Paroxysmal weakness remains, despite the prednisone, despite the Azathioprine.  It's just a fact, that's all, and one that could in time change considerably.  Fact doesn't equal fate.  When I think of the real possibility that my doctor is correct, that I'm dealing with Myositis (which brand of that has yet to be determined) it can sink my spirits low.  The idea of progressive weakness and muscle wasting isn't something to celebrate, but I can take what steps I can to minimize the damage by making sure I keep moving, exercise, eat enough protein, and keep my mind clear.  The alternative is to simply give up and let it all overcome me.  And no, I'm not into that.

I have my work cut out for me.

But hey, I have coffee and mornings and that little boost of euphoria, however fleeting, to tell me to keep going no matter what.  NO MATTER WHAT, Myositis and AIH be-damned.

Today...beyond morning... I'm going to make sure T finishes putting the exercise bike together....

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?

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...!

PART 2: Priorities revealed

Assuming you've read PART 1, I won't rehash the entire experience.  And I've spoken of my disappointment (for lack of a better word) in that T has the worst hierarchy of priorities that I've seen in a few years.  And in light of his absence during yesterday's procedure shows me more than ever where he is, who he is, and what he is.

When I was informed yesterday that the procedure I was having was more serious and carries far more risk than 'just' the biopsy I thought I was having, my radiologist asked me if I had anyone there with me.  The fact that I was alone in the section where I waited to be taken to my procedure didn't deter him from asking, because.. after all... I was the only patient there who didn't have anyone with them.

I told him T had dropped me off and went to work;  and he just looked at me for a moment, sat down, and began telling me (using straight-forward language) how "Tricky" the procedure I was going to have, how serious it was, and about the risks involved.  He said if I wanted to call T and give him an opportunity to come back to the hospital so he could be there as it's being done that they would hold off on performing the procedure until he arrived.  The radiologist left the room, and I called T...

T's reaction?  "Well, they have my contact information so that if anything happens they can call and I will come there."

I sat there for a split-second taking in his response, then was filled with the overwhelming need to hang up the phone, to NOT hear his voice at all.  And while this isn't the first time I've felt this reaction, it was by far the strongest I've felt.  I instantly went into self-preservation mode and wanted him nowhere near me.

The nurses, doctors, and other supportive medical staff were the only ones who made me feel like I wasn't completely alone.  I accepted that for what it was and allowed myself to just focus on what was about to happen and put T far, far out of my mind.  In fact, to be honest, he didn't enter my mind at all until at the end of recovery when I was told I was being released.

What does this mean?  That's not a question I'm asking myself, because I already know the answer.  I've been there, done that in the past with someone not giving a crap about my health, my well-being, and diminishing what I was going through or dealing with.  Has society really become a nation of zombies who have nothing but bricks for hearts?  I'm certainly beginning to think so.

I was supposed to go home and rest, not strain myself, no lifting, not even driving.  But T had other plans, ones that made HIS life ultimately easier.  Because that's what it all boils down to.  The aching in my neck and liver had begun, so I prayed that the medication I was given at the hospital would kick in soon and I at least wouldn't be in pain.

A heart cath is scheduled for the 19th of this month (November), and I was given a lab order to get blood work done prior to that day, as soon as possible.  T decided that since I was "Already out and about" that I should go to the lab to get the blood drawn.  I was painful, loopy, tired, and I wasn't at all up to walking through a parking garage and hospital in order to get blood drawn.  I just wanted to go home and rest.  That's all.  Just go home and rest.  But that wasn't about to happen.  T would have his way, and I would simply have to suck it up and deal with the unpleasantness.

This isn't the first time I've been with someone who lacks compassion, but at least I now know how to deal with it while protecting myself at the same time... thanks to a couple of past relationships.  At least I was smart enough to learn from the experiences, and while those lessons were necessary and taught me much, it doesn't mean I'm not feeling the effects of what's happening.

Deja vu.

I'm still processing everything, having just gone through this yesterday.  I've no real thoughts on the matter other than the obvious that one would expect to have after such.

I'll come to terms with things---perhaps when I feel stronger.

New blog, and the anticipation of the unknown.

My new blog, "This Free Spirit," is helping.  As long as I put what's needed in the entries it seems to lift the weight a little in doing so.  I'm really liking that there's success in this whole journaling thing. Unlike "This Free Spirit," my entries in the other 3 blogs, including this one, may be only somewhat focused at the moment.  However, I'm slowly but surely finding the lines a little less blurred as I go.  Soon... I will have the blogs focused on their intended purpose.  I'm getting there.

Tomorrow is my liver biopsy.  I'm not saying I'm scared, exactly; I just don't like the procedure itself. To top things off, T had one response to my having this procedure---"Do I have to be there?"  *sigh*  Way to make a girl feel loved, dude.  This is really become commonplace with him, where no matter WHAT it is you're dealing with, what needs to be done, etc... it's all about what's convenient for him.

My heart cath had to be scheduled 2 weeks later than they wanted (the dr wanted it done THIS week) to accommodate T's schedule.  Again, he has an overabundance in accrued leave that he's rarely ever willing to take.  When he reaches the point where X amount of hours will be lost if he doesn't use them, that's when it makes the most sense for him to do so.  And I can't drive myself to/from the cath procedure, so... what do I do?  Call a taxi?  The procedure itself requires certain care instructions that include not being home alone afterwards (in case of rupture of entry point/incision--femoral artery), NOT DRIVING (risk of rupturing the artery incision), not being able to lift, bend, stretch, etc.  If I don't have family or friends locally, then what?  T is NOT the guy (and not the only one I've been with) who is NOT the best person to have around when you're recovering from ANYTHING.

But here I am anyway, knowing I've been there, done that already.  I had a thyroid biopsy last year in which I went alone.  He didn't even ask how it went, etc.  Okay.  Sounds like no big deal, but when you have a procedure where they're trying to rule out cancer... it's nice to have someone there with you.  I was the only one in the recovery area who was alone.  lol  That was my first clue as to what I was dealing with.

In some ways I've venting a bit here to avoid thinking about tomorrow.