I am...

I am a person, a human, a woman, someone with feelings, thoughts, hopes, dreams, intelligence, passion, and a heart.  I feel, breathe, think, love, hope, hurt, give, and bleed.  I am sensitive, patient, empathetic, sympathetic, spiritual, and I feel deeply what is sent my way.  My pain is real.  My joy is real.  My love is real.

I am real.

Because I am, I feel.  Because I think, I feel.  Because I breathe, I feel.  Because I have a soul, I feel.  And what I feel is exactly everything.  When you speak, I feel your words, and when you don't, I feel that as well.

I hear you when you're not talking.  I see you when you're not there.  My mind, soul, spirit and heart remembers everything.  I feel everything you've said, done, not said and not done, and it has changed parts of me, of who I am.  But I will find a way and strive each and every day to heal, to restore all that I once was.

The parts of me you broke with your words and actions, or inactions, are still there.  Every shattered part of me holds on and waits to be healed.

I am healing, though much slower than I'd hoped.

Inside there are are pieces that aren't mine at all but harmful remnants of an experience that threatened to change me completely, insidious shrapnel of an emotional war I never wanted to be a part of.

I'm passed the part where I forgive myself for willingly allowing myself to think everything I experienced was okay.  I apologized for allowing so much harm to be done as I did nothing.  I no longer ask myself 'why' I didn't exit much sooner than I did.  I've come to the conclusion that some things I will most likely never come to terms with, maybe not even completely heal from.  I can't say goodbye or get closure from someone who basically didn't actually exist.  Realizing that everything you thought you knew about someone wasn't real is beyond difficult, because there is no one to say goodbye to when the relationship ends.

I will heal.  Eventually I will be fully me again.  But there is much to sort out even now.  The wound opens time and time again because closure wasn't possible, and I work to forgive, repeatedly repair the damage that never seems to fully heal.

Anger is part of the process of letting go.  In the stages of loss, which happens with breakups, one must absolutely feel every stage.  But who am I to be angry at, sad over, etc?  The person I fell in love with, in the end, revealed so much about themselves as their guard went down that I didn't even recognize them.  At all.  I was allowed to see what they wanted me to see early-on, and I fell in love with THAT person, a person who disappeared completely and was replaced by.... a stranger.  I did not recognize that person and never saw the one I'd fallen in love with again.  So when things finally ended, there I was, wondering who I was supposed to say goodbye to.

More on this later as it's bigger than I'm able to speak about or even deal with in-short.

Is this the beginning of getting back to me again?

To speak my mind in uncertain terms

I literally just wrote several paragraphs before deleting every one of them.  It's my state of mind at the moment, I suppose, really feeling like I need to talk about so much but finding the words impossible to convey what's needed.  Speaking my mind these days isn't always easy, and trying to speak my mind in uncertain terms usually ends up being the case.  Where did the girl go who could quite easily let it all flow out onto the page, or screen as it were?  Dammit.

Where is my voice?  Have I simply worn myself out by expressing what I feel and need?  Is there some cutoff inside that totally prohibits discussion on a matter that's been beaten to death with no resolution from the other side?  Where the hell is my voice?!

Too much going on.  Too much unresolved issues.  Too much indifference.  Too much passive-aggressive controlling from T.  Too many unspoken and unreasonable demands put upon me.  At some point a person under "Too much" gives in, gives up, or gives out; I tend to vacillate between all three.

When I speak, to whom do I speak?  That's a rhetorical question, btw.  I need to talk about what's going on with my health, my lack of any quality of life, my concerns, my needs, my life.  And yet, here I am pouring out what I need to talk about online, rather than talking about what I need.  Geez.  I'm starting to not make much sense, but I'm sure a few of you get where I'm coming from.  It's a familiar place to many, though probably not to all.  This place, this unhealthy place where I am right now, is actually making it more difficult to speak my mind.

Have I developed so much mistrust in people that I can't bring myself to actually say what I need to say?  This has been an ongoing theme in my life (and here) for quite some time now, and where I was once able to pour out my heart and soul and mind freely, it just seems as if every part of me that should be free is tightly shackled, gagged, and sedated by defeat.  That's not a good thing.

Once upon a time I would pour out my soul here.  Those of you who've been reading my blogs know exactly what I'm talking about.  Wether I was raging, hopeful, dreaming, wishful, happy, sad, surprised, or any other number of feelings... I was able to convey everything clearly right here, even if I weren't speaking to anyone else face-to-face.  So what's happened?

I know the answer already, though it's really difficult to say 'out loud.'  But as a first step to getting over this wall, or breaking it down, I can honestly say that I am a product of my recent history, and by 'recent' I mean over the last few years.

After being raged at and punished for speaking my mind the wall was built.  I really didn't know it was happening on all levels, but deep inside I knew, and I let it happen.  Frankly, it was absolutely necessary when it was happening.  The wall went up to protect myself, and now I can't seem to break it down again.

So, how does one get past this?  *shrugs*  Beats me.  But it needs to be done.  HAS to be done.

*sigh*

I hate freckled bananas

I mean, they look like they've lost their will to live.  And the really brown ones, that's just overt depression.  The key to helping them is to give them a new reason to live; you know, like.. banana bread.

Now what?

Post-IV iron infusion and feeling worse than ever.  I'm told, and I've read, that this is actually normal. Great.  But then there was the appointment with my new cardiologist yesterday, and that is yet another topic of confusion, in a sense.  I mean, all this stuff is really wearing me out, and every time I walk in to a doctor's office thinking that a, b, or c will finally be understood and resolved, something else comes along behind it.  All I can think now is.. "Now what?"

....I will get to the more personal stuff in a bit.

First is my BP creeping up (no idea why).  Right before my iron infusion it was 155/82, and at the cardiologist's office it was at 179/81.  Wow.  So, naturally, my cardiologist (whom I will refer to now as Dr. W.) brought that up straight away.  Back on a beta blocker I go... yay... NOT!  Those things make me feel terrible.  I'm not sure my BP is consistently high enough to warrant that, but we'll see.  left her a message bringing up the fact that the nurse who took my BP yesterday pumped the cuff up SO tightly that my entire body tensed..and I squeezed my eyes shut.  Look, I've had 3 children WITHOUT any pain medication, so when I say something hurt.. I'm not exaggerating.

The other issue is with regards to the Grade II Diastolic Dysfunction.  I've been scheduled for a nuclear stress test on the 29th.  This is going to be a 6 hour ordeal, but I've been through this before (2013).  The last one landed me in the OR to get a heart cath. This time there shouldn't be any arrhythmias because of the ablations I had in 2014 for Afib, SVT, and Atrial Flutter.  But, I'm assuming she wants to check for functionality with regards to the DD (diastolic dysfunction).  I was told not to exercise until after the stress test.

Echo done on my left arm yesterday to investigate the swelling that's been occurring since 2013; ruling out venous issues such as a clot.

On a more personal level...

Mr. Indifference is still mostly disconnected from everything outside of 6 inches past his own skin.  I've brought this to his attention many times, and all it does is elicit a lot of "I'm sorry" comments, infused with mild desperation.  Yes, I've pointed that out as well, reminding him that his being desperate for things to be better doesn't make things better.  In fact, it just makes things worse because he appears selfish when this happens.  I would really like to believe he's not selfish.  But, facts are facts.

Maybe I'm just too exhausted from that 2nd infusion.  I mean, the night of I crashed severely, and yesterday I was laid out on the sofa, pretty much useless and sleepy.  Yeah, who am I kidding, right?

I really don't know how I feel about this these days.  From time to time throughout the day I think I know, but then I breathe a few more breaths and I'm once again... unsure.

Our own personal static

Being present.  It's not always the easiest thing in the world, is it?  I mean, every single human being on this planet has to deal with pulling themselves back from their own personal static.  It's not about being falsely-focused during a conversation, but rather being genuinely interested, connected, even polite.  The static is always there, always real, and it makes us who we are.  In fact, that static of our own thoughts is a simple by-product of a complex intellect.  And we are all participants in self-indulgence, mired in the buzz and whir of, well, thinking.  There's just too much going on in our heads, right?

Wrong.

I can say with confidence that being ignored isn't one of my favorite things, and yet it is a daily energy-suck that refuses to let go of me.  I live with someone who is chronically in the throes of his own personal static.  Honestly, these days I feel like a ghost, invisible, and as if I have absolutely no voice whatsoever.  It's getting to me.

This entry sat in "Drafts" for some time now, and oddly.. it's relevant to what's going on STILL.  I'm personally tired of the static I'm surrounded by in my everyday life here with T.

More on this another time...

PART 1: Deciphering indifference: Don't waste my time

It's a chronic problem with T.  It's a chronic problem with a lot of people in this world and is more evident now than ever.  People have allowed a destructive numbness to creep into the very fabric of who and what they are.  The consequences of embracing indifference is that it becomes a part of you, defining you, and ultimately destroying everything with its insidious whisperings inside your mind and heart.  It's a comfortably destructive habit that will take everything about you and make it its own.  It walks softly into one's life as a comforting buffer against anything and everything that makes you... FEEL.  And in the throes of its seductive and blinding embrace... you can be ultimately lost forever.

Indifference is like the sting of a mosquito; with just the smallest amount of anesthetic you won't feel the effects until it's too late.

When blind indifference takes hold of a person it's usually a selective process that often singles out just one, at first unwitting, individual.  Damage is done to both sides, but the effects of the one staring into the face of indifference are far greater in intensity and much longer-lasting.  Honestly, as much as we humans try to distance ourselves from the hurtful effects we too often fail at removing ourselves effectively.  That doesn't mean we don't on some level understand what's happening, and usually several attempts are made to make the other aware of what they're doing.  But true to indifference's nature our words, actions, they all fall on completely deaf ears.

I've been through two relationships of indifference, and both times I ended up not caring a flip about that person in the end.

Over the last few years I've come to see indifference from new angles, and I no longer believe that I'm the one who has the responsibility to fix what's happening.  On the contrary.  I wasn't put on planet earth to fix anyone, except myself.  If indifference is really all that person has to offer, they have absolutely nothing to offer.  At least not to me.

While I've focused yet again on 'the thing' that I want to talk about, I haven't actually shared where I am in this whole thing.

Where I am in all of this and why talking about it matters...

In context, indifference matters a great deal when it comes to me and my life, my emotional and physical health.  It directly affects how I go about the course of my life, the details of who I am and what I want and need are blurred beneath the sharp blades that attempt to obliterate all in its path.

Case in point: Following the first IV iron infusion for anemia there were symptoms that I couldn't pin-point, ones that usually put someone on alert.  With my heart and lung issues, having severe breathlessness and chest pressure is one of those things you simply shouldn't ignore, no matter who you are.  A smart person would at least mention it to whoever they're living with, or call someone to let them know what's going on... to be on the safe side.  Though, I have to add that it's a good idea to call someone who actually cares, because the alternative could be deadly.

Roughly about a day and a half after my IV infusion I had an 'event' that evening that startled me.  I had just gotten into bed and found the usual breathlessness that I experience every night (heart issues), but instead of easing a little.. it actually intensified... a LOT.  I found myself feeling as if an elephant was sitting on my chest, and I was gasping for air.  Literally gasping for air.  This went on for about 10 minutes or so until I became so fatigued by it all that I actually fell asleep.  But before I fell asleep I alerted T to what was going on.  He was actually standing near my side of the bed and wide awake, and when I told him what I was feeling, while gasping for air between words, he..said.. absolutely nothing.  Nothing at all.  He went around the other side of the bed and laid down in silence while I continued to gasp for air.

I propped myself up on my side on one elbow, still unable to breathe correctly, still gasping for air and trying to slow down my breathing.. thinking it may help.  I'm not prone to panic attacks and felt no panic at all while this was going on, hence my not insisting I go to the ER.  Was it concerning?  Of course it was!  But I believed it would pass.  And it did.. after I fell asleep.  I was exhausted by the experience.  Utterly exhausted.

The next day T went to work as usual and didn't mentioned what happened the night before.  What this left me with, like several other 'acts of indifference,' was a deep-seated mistrust, and it went so deep to the bone that I cannot shake it no matter what.  But in reality, I don't WANT to shake this mistrust because it's necessary.  This isn't the first time or first issue that's come along to instill a strong self-protectiveness.

T, I have found, doesn't really care much for anything any further than about 6 inches outside his own skin.  He's aware of it, I've tried to talk to him about it, strongly suggested he "Pick something and practice giving a shit," and all for nothing but wasted breath and wasted time.  I don't have any inclination to continue wasting energy and time on someone who's not willing to give a damn.

Whenever something of vital importance arises, T is "absent."  He's not plugged in.  He's not at all invested.  And this is why I grow increasingly weary of involving him in anything important that's going on with me, my health, and so on.  He's basically now on the outside, and he's even indifferent to that.. until he feels it's going to affect him personally in some way.  *sigh*

There will be a PART II to this, because it's a huge huge issue for me, and one that is helping to destroy my health.  It's about time I talk about it ALL, and it's just too much for a single entry.

I'm exhausted.  Deciphering indifference is a huge energy-suck, and I just don't have any energy to spare.  If you don't FEEL anything---don't waste my time!

I have no idea, and a Halloween selfie.

Where do my thoughts go when I sit down to post here?  Why do I draw a complete blank when the night before, the morning of, etc... I had plenty to think about, plenty to say?  Where do the most important ideas, contemplations, feelings, and so forth actually disappear to when I'm more than ready to get them out into the open?  I have absolutely NO idea.

All that which keeps me awake at night, pondering, seem to slip into the shadows when I'm up and ready to sort it all out.  I mean, yes, there are enough topics I could easily discuss, but my goal here isn't just to talk about the easy.  It's the difficult I need to stand toe-to-toe with.  So damn frustrating.

I suppose if I were to be honest about it, at least one of the major issues is right there in the forefront, and I'm finding myself stepping back from letting it all out in the open.  Just a protective measure on my part, but it doesn't make it okay.  I really do need to talk about a few things.

A blog is a blog.  Maybe that I've come to a deep understanding about how all this, at times, feels utterly pointless.  You know, like speaking into a dark, cavernous void only to hear nothing by my own voice echoing back.

Oh well.  I've been edging towards speaking out-right here for some time.  It's not easy for me, even though I did create my blogs as a place where I COULD actually speak my mind, vent, share, or whatever.

WHY is this so hard for me?!  Seriously.

P.S.  No, that's not really my selfie.  ;)