Showing posts with label anxiety. Show all posts
Showing posts with label anxiety. Show all posts
Friday, November 25, 2016
PART I: Malignant Narcissists, Revisited.
This is part one of two. Part two will be done and uploaded tomorrow....
Friday, November 18, 2016
Wednesday, November 16, 2016
Not feeling it...
I've always liked decorating early for Christmas. Dragging everything out of storage, opening boxes and bags, and decorating... takes a minute, so the idea of putting everything up for a couple of weeks after all that works just doesn't make any sense to me. Plus, my inner child is alive and well and always excited about Christmas, decorating, hot chocolate with marshmallows, Christmas cartoons and movies and every single bit of tradition out there. I'm all in for Christmas...usually.
The last few years, however, the excitement has dimmed to a dull hue of red and green, to be honest. I pretty much know the 'why' of this, but I've struggled over the past 6-7 years or so to repair whatever is sucking the joy out of the holidays and restore it to it's former, magical splendor. If only....
It's not enough to know what's wrong. Everything I long for when the nostalgia takes hold are those things that are just out of my reach. My attempts to re-create what's lost have failed, and I'm finding myself depressed more and more each year by the holidays. While this depression doesn't completely isolate itself to Christmas only, that's the one that is the most difficult to navigate.
I really just hate this.
What 'haven't' I tried to breathe life back into the holidays?
This house is decked out big time, and... I'm just not feeling it. I walk through the house, and I really love what I see. But something vital is missing, and it's been fading away for years. Yeah, yeah, I know this sounds like such a downer, but for me it really is in so many ways.
When all the reaching for better, happier, more joyful falls to the wayside.. so do I. Just a fact. There isn't any real way for me to work through this by myself, because the problem isn't an unknown. As weird as that sounds, it's true. When you don't know what's wrong, your focus shifts to one of discovery. But when you know what's wrong one of the first things that comes to mind, for me anyway, is "Okay. Now what?" And, unfortunately, that's where I'm stuck.
Tomorrow is another day, and I'm planning on digging into my web sites if I have enough energy to do so. Maybe it will distract me, though I realize it won't solve anything. I have to do something to fight my way out of this.
One thing I will say that I'm doing well on my diet in the sense that I'm not having any urges to cheat etc., and in fact have been eating under my points (which can backfire on me later and likely will).
Okay, so.. no, I'm not making much sense at the moment. I'm tired, so so tired. I didn't sleep well last night which makes this all so much more intense, and in the wrong way. At the urge of a couple of you, I'm trying, and that's about all I can promise I'll do right now.
Tomorrow is another day. But today... I'm just not feeling it.
The last few years, however, the excitement has dimmed to a dull hue of red and green, to be honest. I pretty much know the 'why' of this, but I've struggled over the past 6-7 years or so to repair whatever is sucking the joy out of the holidays and restore it to it's former, magical splendor. If only....
It's not enough to know what's wrong. Everything I long for when the nostalgia takes hold are those things that are just out of my reach. My attempts to re-create what's lost have failed, and I'm finding myself depressed more and more each year by the holidays. While this depression doesn't completely isolate itself to Christmas only, that's the one that is the most difficult to navigate.
I really just hate this.
What 'haven't' I tried to breathe life back into the holidays?
This house is decked out big time, and... I'm just not feeling it. I walk through the house, and I really love what I see. But something vital is missing, and it's been fading away for years. Yeah, yeah, I know this sounds like such a downer, but for me it really is in so many ways.
When all the reaching for better, happier, more joyful falls to the wayside.. so do I. Just a fact. There isn't any real way for me to work through this by myself, because the problem isn't an unknown. As weird as that sounds, it's true. When you don't know what's wrong, your focus shifts to one of discovery. But when you know what's wrong one of the first things that comes to mind, for me anyway, is "Okay. Now what?" And, unfortunately, that's where I'm stuck.
Tomorrow is another day, and I'm planning on digging into my web sites if I have enough energy to do so. Maybe it will distract me, though I realize it won't solve anything. I have to do something to fight my way out of this.
One thing I will say that I'm doing well on my diet in the sense that I'm not having any urges to cheat etc., and in fact have been eating under my points (which can backfire on me later and likely will).
Okay, so.. no, I'm not making much sense at the moment. I'm tired, so so tired. I didn't sleep well last night which makes this all so much more intense, and in the wrong way. At the urge of a couple of you, I'm trying, and that's about all I can promise I'll do right now.
Tomorrow is another day. But today... I'm just not feeling it.
Labels:
anxiety,
Christmas,
depression,
healing,
health,
holidays,
hope,
life,
living,
relationships,
sad
Sunday, November 13, 2016
Life, dammit!
Still catching up... thanks for bearing with me. Hoping to get back on track this coming week....
Labels:
anxiety,
healing,
health,
holidays,
home,
indifference,
life,
living,
relationships,
stress
Wednesday, October 5, 2016
Those Few Stolen Peaceful Moments.
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hope,
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living,
peace,
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Sunday, August 14, 2016
Post-Surgery Blues, and the Inevitable Pain of Indifference.
This is difficult. Post-surgery for frozen shoulder and minor rotator cuff tear and I'm feeling like hell. It will take a long time to recover and regain full use of my left arm, and dammit but it hurts to type. I almost decided to do an audio blog but not enough privacy the last couple of days to do that. So I'll make this just a quick check-in.
I'm not sleeping, mostly getting up several times a night to move my arm, elbow... to alleviate what pain I can. This is often a tearful process. I don't know when the big crash will come, but it will. A human being simply can't withstand not sleeping like this. On Wednesday, then on Saturday... things will change and hopefully for the better.
Sleeping on my side after this kind of surgery isn't the best idea, and it creates a world of pain, swelling to an unhealthy level in my arm. This became the catalyst for ordering one of those Tempur Pedic beds. NOT the cheapest thing in the world, but a very necessary one at this point as the healing process is going to take a long time. So be it. It's adjustable so I can support the back of my legs and have the back of the bed upright to manage sleeping without being on my side. Saturday, a Laz-boy chair will arrive, and mostly for the same purpose. As it stands now my options are to sit straight/upright or lay in a flat bed. Both options mean pain and swelling. But hey, those recliners are awesome and it's not like it won't be fully enjoyed way beyond the shoulder healing.
I suppose at this point I'm just rambling, but everything I am is consumed with the pain and trying to work past it without taking the powerful pain killers I was given. The side effects sucks, and that means I'm making damn sure to take them sparingly. But either way, my point is basically that I'll be dealing with this for a while and probably not making a lot of sense when I post.
There most likely won't be daily entries for a while, but I will try my best.
Post-surgery with all it's unbelievable pain has opened up a part of me that I really would rather leave closed, shut away, and ignored. That echo chamber of the past and present merging in unsettling ways rumbles below the surface, always, making itself known at the darkest of hours and experiences. I find myself unsettled---not just my circumstances or thoughts. In the wee hours, especially when awakened by the almost ceaseless pain, true anxiety sets in and grips me. Most of the time I can overcome it and get past it's frightening messages. But then there are times when it takes hold and I find myself incredibly vulnerable and needing a strong, positive presence to jerk me back into a brighter reality. Things is... I have no such strong, positive presence. Yeah.
What to do with that.
As you guys know, indifference has been my companion. T's indifference rears it's true self amidst the pain that really feels as if it's going to rip me apart. You see, the first part of knowing how to squash pain naturally is to avoid stress at all costs, because stress destroy's the body's own ability to send much-needed pain killers to it's needed location. Over time, especially in the presence of AI disease and fibromyalgia.... the breakdown of this mechanism is swift and brutal, leaving me without any natural defenses. This sucks.
I've been brought to tears by the sheer intensity and duration of this pain, and the fibro is in a massive flare-up now, adding wide-spread, diffuse pain to that of the post-surgical. While it's nothing to brag about, I will admit that I've been brought to my knees by the force of it all, crying so hard I felt as if my head would explode. Late at night, when it's at its worst T will simply get up, stand there... and say nothing, do nothing, offer nothing. I've had to tell him it's best he stay away rather than bring that indifference to the already miserable situation.
It is times like this that I long for "home," whatever and wherever that is. No one to reach out to, to plead to, or talk to. Not a parent, sibling, or best friend. No one. It's only when either by exhaustion or prescription intervention does the pain lessen a little, just enough for my mind to bring forth an image of a healthy, happy, joyful, fulfilled and pain-free me. When I fall asleep... it sometimes carries me into dreaming, those thoughts.
My arm is in a lot of pain at the moment, so I'm going to sign off. I hope that each day with willpower and physical therapy.. and even the weaker moments when I allow myself the prescription help to relieve the pain... maybe I'll get stronger, better. I have 3 days of PT this coming week... and I pray it's the start to real recovery.
I need this pain to stop. I really do.
Hopefully I can post tomorrow.
PS... I was amazed at how many page views Where Fireflies Dream received.... gave me a smile.
I'm not sleeping, mostly getting up several times a night to move my arm, elbow... to alleviate what pain I can. This is often a tearful process. I don't know when the big crash will come, but it will. A human being simply can't withstand not sleeping like this. On Wednesday, then on Saturday... things will change and hopefully for the better.
Sleeping on my side after this kind of surgery isn't the best idea, and it creates a world of pain, swelling to an unhealthy level in my arm. This became the catalyst for ordering one of those Tempur Pedic beds. NOT the cheapest thing in the world, but a very necessary one at this point as the healing process is going to take a long time. So be it. It's adjustable so I can support the back of my legs and have the back of the bed upright to manage sleeping without being on my side. Saturday, a Laz-boy chair will arrive, and mostly for the same purpose. As it stands now my options are to sit straight/upright or lay in a flat bed. Both options mean pain and swelling. But hey, those recliners are awesome and it's not like it won't be fully enjoyed way beyond the shoulder healing.
I suppose at this point I'm just rambling, but everything I am is consumed with the pain and trying to work past it without taking the powerful pain killers I was given. The side effects sucks, and that means I'm making damn sure to take them sparingly. But either way, my point is basically that I'll be dealing with this for a while and probably not making a lot of sense when I post.
There most likely won't be daily entries for a while, but I will try my best.
Post-surgery with all it's unbelievable pain has opened up a part of me that I really would rather leave closed, shut away, and ignored. That echo chamber of the past and present merging in unsettling ways rumbles below the surface, always, making itself known at the darkest of hours and experiences. I find myself unsettled---not just my circumstances or thoughts. In the wee hours, especially when awakened by the almost ceaseless pain, true anxiety sets in and grips me. Most of the time I can overcome it and get past it's frightening messages. But then there are times when it takes hold and I find myself incredibly vulnerable and needing a strong, positive presence to jerk me back into a brighter reality. Things is... I have no such strong, positive presence. Yeah.
What to do with that.
As you guys know, indifference has been my companion. T's indifference rears it's true self amidst the pain that really feels as if it's going to rip me apart. You see, the first part of knowing how to squash pain naturally is to avoid stress at all costs, because stress destroy's the body's own ability to send much-needed pain killers to it's needed location. Over time, especially in the presence of AI disease and fibromyalgia.... the breakdown of this mechanism is swift and brutal, leaving me without any natural defenses. This sucks.
I've been brought to tears by the sheer intensity and duration of this pain, and the fibro is in a massive flare-up now, adding wide-spread, diffuse pain to that of the post-surgical. While it's nothing to brag about, I will admit that I've been brought to my knees by the force of it all, crying so hard I felt as if my head would explode. Late at night, when it's at its worst T will simply get up, stand there... and say nothing, do nothing, offer nothing. I've had to tell him it's best he stay away rather than bring that indifference to the already miserable situation.
It is times like this that I long for "home," whatever and wherever that is. No one to reach out to, to plead to, or talk to. Not a parent, sibling, or best friend. No one. It's only when either by exhaustion or prescription intervention does the pain lessen a little, just enough for my mind to bring forth an image of a healthy, happy, joyful, fulfilled and pain-free me. When I fall asleep... it sometimes carries me into dreaming, those thoughts.
My arm is in a lot of pain at the moment, so I'm going to sign off. I hope that each day with willpower and physical therapy.. and even the weaker moments when I allow myself the prescription help to relieve the pain... maybe I'll get stronger, better. I have 3 days of PT this coming week... and I pray it's the start to real recovery.
I need this pain to stop. I really do.
Hopefully I can post tomorrow.
PS... I was amazed at how many page views Where Fireflies Dream received.... gave me a smile.
Monday, July 25, 2016
A Competition of Priorities Part I
No relationship is perfect. No one single person is perfect. Both statements are true, and both are also somewhat redundant. I believe most are intelligent enough to understand the 'given' in this. Still, I wanted to make it perfectly clear that I'm not one of those individuals who looks for or even strives for perfection as I truly believe that endeavor never ends well for anyone. Having said that, I do believe that anyone, everyone, can try to be the best they can be. Honestly, I think we'd have a much better world if people just decided to do and be their best.
In an even imperfect world our only saving grace in most situations, especially the difficult ones, is having our priorities straight. This doesn't mean my priorities will be exactly like yours, and they may actually be quite different. And it's not to say if our priorities differ that one of us is right, and the other is wrong. So what does it mean when someone says "Get your priorities straight"? Well, for starters, you have to know where your priorities are before you can ever think of making any necessary changes or shifts.
My current relationship is a competition of priorities. I've been here before in the not-so-distant past, and I recognize what it is I'm dealing with. I also know all to well that I can't force anyone to change their own priorities. Even so, there are consequences, both good and bad and on both sides of the situation (relationship) to that hierarchy of priorities. For example, if you put your love of playing video games above your significant other you'll find, and usually quite quickly, that it has an impact on that other person, and by default.. on you.
There are two outcomes in the above situation. Firstly, if your significant other has YOU as a priority, there'll be conflict. While you make your case for your 'game time,' the other person will make their case for 'couple time.' The other scenario isn't so pleasant, and in that other scenario your significant other may just find enough time on there hands, feeling less important than your game playing.... and open themselves to the availability of someone else. This, unfortunately, isn't often something they actively do but is more a natural reaction to the situation. There's just not enough time to explain the psychology in this.
Let's bring this to a more personal place.
I'm one for putting important things first. Kind of a no-brainer, right? Well, again, depending on where the person is with their priorities.. what one might see as important may be something they're totally indifferent to. THIS is where the magic, or the nightmare begins.
My environment is extremely important to me. My current heath problems mean I'm house-bound most of the time, and this means my immediate surroundings have basically become my entire world. Here is where my peace, my serenity, my joy, happiness, and motivation is born, and where they also die. And right now my environment is working against my health, both emotional and physical.
I don't care if it's a girl thing or just an 'Ella' thing, but it really doesn't matter what label it falls under, because this is part of who I am. Beauty in my world is necessary. I like a clean house, one that smells good and is comfortable. Mess, chaos, clutter, and filthy surroundings do NOT sit well with me at all and isn't conducive to comfort or peace. Under normal circumstances I would be happily cleaning house and making my 'world' a happy and peaceful place.. at least in that sense. But it's a battle these days as I live with someone who could care less about any of that. And worse, he's a master of procrastination.
I don't procrastinate and prefer to get things done in a timely manner. I don't let things go until they're out of control or till the situation deteriorates so badly that I have to pay someone to take care of it for me. Prevention is still cheaper than a cure. It's cheaper to mow the lawn and take care of plants and landscaping on a regular basis then it is to allow things to become so out of control you have to hire a landscaper. It takes a LOT less time to clean a bathroom once a week then it is to let it go for weeks on end... and have to spend a couple of hours trying to scrub away what would've been easily removed weeks before. It's more cost effective to get a professional roofer to fix a leak right away then it is put it off till it becomes more than a roof repair.
Procrastination is the antithesis of "responsible behavior."
When men are more like boys than men they will let even important things go for weeks, or months, or even years. For someone like me, this is a nightmare of epic proportion. I'm not comfortable in filth, clutter, or chaos and decay. I appreciate the things I have and take care of them. To be in the same household with someone who's priorities places importance on things that take away from the important things... is literally a nightmare.
This competition of priorities is creating chaos at every turn, except for T... who is all about procrastination and haphazardly barreling through life without any direction or goal in mind. When human beings in your life are at the bottom of the totem pole beneath meaningless and often mindless activities or inactivity, there's something very very wrong.
Priorities should mean doing the right thing first, whatever that is. The right thing; what does that even mean? I guess that's also a subjective choice. But subjective or not, a human being should always be at the top of the priority list, be it the health, happiness, comfort and well-being of that individual, or their stated or obvious needs. At what point do you wake up and realize that maybe, the thing you push down to the bottom the list is negatively impacting the other person in your life?
And you can't just tell that person to "Let it go." When it's a priority, even a necessity, you don't just tell that person to let it go, to 'deal with it,' or go on a rant about why that person should change to meet your needs. I'm sorry, but not in any universe will that ever work.
Now let's bring this local....
If your staring at a television is more important than helping me get something done that NEEDS doing around the house, your priorities are screwed up. If my having ONE useful arm at the moment means I can't do x, y, or z... and you choose watching tv or playing on Facebook over helping with those things... you're extremely screwed up and your priorities stink, plain and simple.
I can't help where my health is right now. I can't change the fact that I have an extremely painful shoulder/arm due to a torn rotator cuff that needs surgery to repair. I can't help it that I need T's help, nor can I help that it's like pulling teeth to get that help. All the pleading and begging and explaining in the world doesn't right what's wrong with his priorities. He's the ultimate "Can't" man, and can't won't get things done.
Now, I do know the difference between literally being unable to do something and choosing to say you 'can't' as a way to get out of doing that something. If you literally can't, you can't. I can't buy a yacht, but that doesn't mean I'm making excuses not to. I can't fish on my front lawn, either. I also can't be 20 years old again. So I know the HUGE difference between 'can't' as a fact, and 'can't' as an excuse. And T... uses 'can't' as an excuse.
Procrastination on this level isn't sexy or attractive. My knowing and seeing all too well how far down on the priority list I am does absolutely nothing to endear him to me. Love isn't something you say but something you DO. Saying it IS very important, but what you do is more important. And if that person demands the unreasonable from you to 'prove' love, then that person's behavior/deeds aren't fueled by love but by selfishness. What I'm asking of T isn't unreasonable and is what most people do without being prodded anyway.
Clean up after yourself. Don't neglect the yard, the house, those things that men normally take care of because it's... the right thing to do! Gee, where've we heard that before? You take care of your house because it's the right thing to do. It's an investment, so why on earth would you not take care of your investment?
And yet, I'm expected to not ever bring those things up, those things that seriously need attention. Honestly, I don't ask for ANYTHING other than to do the right thing. Bring on board some compassion to make the job easier. But don't procrastinate until things fall apart then complain about the aftermath. Be a self-starter. Be pro-active. What's wrong with that?
There's just too much to put into one blog entry. The competition of priorities is out of hand, out of control, and T's ridiculous and self-serving stubbornness is destroying peace, tranquility, happiness, or any hope for the future. And worse, it's destroying my motivation to get well. I'll explain that at another time, as well as CONTINUOUSLY breaking one's word and it's impact on those on the receiving end.
For now.... I simply keep hanging on, hoping to survive this nightmare.
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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....
Tuesday, July 19, 2016
Life---Glaringly Apparent
There are a ton of people out there who love to use words in a loose and inappropriate way. I try not to be one of those people. Am I perfect? Hell no. But I really do try to choose my words carefully. One word that's been in my mind a lot lately is the word "Selfish." I've witnessed a lot of selfishness over the past few years, and while seeing that makes me a bit sad about humanity as a whole, I realize that not everyone is--selfish. But I have to say, after 2 years of living with this man I have to admit that T has a selfish nature. It's not one of hose hateful, malignant things as it can be with so many. It's more of a childish and immaturity thing. Either way, it wreaks havoc on my life in major ways.
Again, I don't use words like "Selfish" loosely. I know what the word means. There are people who accuse others of being selfish... because those people aren't giving them what they want and are not giving into demands. I'm not one of those people. I wouldn't call someone selfish simply because they don't give me what they want... oh, but I've been on the receiving end of that, I can tell you. But that person had a LOT of issues, so there's that.
T's selfishness doesn't make him sexy, doesn't make him 'dearer' to me, and I don't at all find it attractive on any level. Duh, I know. I guess what I'm saying here is that it turns me off in a huge way. A lack of empathy and compassion combined with selfishness is not something one can brag about, I assure you.
There are too many instances to discuss here, and I wouldn't even try. But what happened this morning was like a glass of ice-water in the face, which always leaves me to some serious introspection about where I want my life to be.
I've not slept very well in several nights and last night was the crashing point where my body just finally gave out enough to sleep deeply. T usually wakes me up before he leaves for work so I can take my morning medicine, and since the diagnosis of borderline diabetes I have to check my blood glucose in the mornings.. before taking any medicine or drinking water. It's important I check morning glucose, so this is one thing I never skip as it can reveal a possible turning point in which pre-diabetes can shift and become something more serious.
So T wakes me up, and having been in a VERY DEEP sleep it wasn't easy. I struggled to think, to even speak... I was a little confused and disoriented--not fully awake. As I lay there trying to get my bearings I could see T standing there with this impatient look on his face, and he was using that tone of voice that tells me he's in full-blown passive-aggressive mode. He stood there with that posture that said he was in a hurry. Still too sleepy to get my thoughts straight, I leaned up on one arm attempting to clear my head and wake up fully.
Normally, he will wake me up and put the lancet in the device because, honestly... some days my eyes are SO blurry I can't see well enough to (a blood sugar thing, my doctor says). It takes a few seconds to put the lancet in the device and take the protective cap off. Today, however, he just stood there as a few seconds passed, standing and half-leaning against the dresser. My thoughts, as muddled as they were, came together enough to think... 'Arrogant.' His stance, posture... looked blatantly arrogant.
I was beginning to wake up more at this point as anxiety and stress began to take hold. Many mornings are like this as T will often barrel through the house, half bent as he RUSHES around... as if that behavior was going to somehow get him from point A to point B faster. Well, whatever. Anyway, as the stress began to take hold, as I could feel the anxiety growing in my stomach... he finally turned towards the little table with my glucose monitoring kit, and started to close it. He picked up the meds laying there and was going to hand them to me..... I was very confused at this point. But what he did next.... shocked as well as angered me.
He turned to me and said, "You could just skip this today...."
Huh? What?
I was fully awake at this moment---and oddly speechless. I sat there for a moment, angry... still sleepy, yet fully feeling the effects of what he just said to me. The exchange hadn't lasted even a minute, perhaps 30 seconds at the most. But the impact of what transpired was forceful, and it woke me up in a big way.
Anger wasn't permitting clear thought, I can tell you. I was simply stunned into silence, left with my anger and trying desperately to calm down. What I told him was just to go, to go to work. I'm 100% certain he could tell I was pissed.
Once the initial anxiety and stress subsided I was left weak and achy and beyond fatigued. I went back to bed and slept another 2.5 hours.
In the aftermath of this morning were a few other surprises, just idiotic stuff I had to clean in the kitchen. I swear my children when growing up weren't this messy. So that wasn't fun as a follow up.
I'm not going to explain to him the importance of monitoring my blood sugar as the doctor instructed. He was there IN the room when she gave me the diagnosis! He was in the room when she asked if my mom and oldest sister (who both had diabetes) had any diabetic complications, and when I said YES... he also heard her say that it makes my likelihood of having complications that much higher. He was there when she said I needed medication to hopefully stop the progression, and he was there when she spoke of how serious it is that things be addressed NOW, that pre-diabetes causes damage and raises the risk of heart attack and stroke significantly. He was there.
I was told that the goal for my morning blood glucose levels should be UNDER 100. They've been hovering around 115 but have been as high as 123 and as low as 109. The low of 109 happened only once. If I get readings that consistently show elevated to 124 or above... that's a big red flag. So checking every day gives my doctor an average to see where things are going.
T was there for the entire conversation.
He's shown his hand, as he often does, and I see all too clearly where he stands and what he thinks. He's shown his hand when it comes to everything I'm dealing with, be it Autoimmune Hepatitis, Pre-Diabetes, heart issues, etc. He spends a lot of time watching tv, and a lot of time on FB. He knows very little to nothing about what I'm dealing with because he hasn't bothered to read, research, etc.
I belong to a forum for pre-diabetics and diabetics, and I can't even tell you how many spouses, sisters, brothers, etc... seek information, talk about their concerns, ask what they can do to help. T, in stark contrast... acts as if everything is perfectly normal.
Emotionally, I've been separating myself from T out of necessity. I recognize this as a protective behavior and one that is actually healthy. His lack of compassion, empathy, compassion or concern, his indifference especially... have pretty much turned me off at this point and I'm not trying to fix that because it's not my place. This has happened before, so I recognize where I am in this. I don't find hatefulness, indifference, nor a lack of compassion attractive in the least. I also don't find passive/aggressive, or out-right aggression attractive, and I cannot abide control freaks... in which T is one. At least he knows he's a control freak. He's not doing anything about it, but at least he's aware.
Still, my life's course can't be set by someone else's map. I have to set my own course, make my own decisions, and do what's right and necessary for me, for my health, for my happiness, for my life.
For now all I can do is fight like hell not to fall into that pit of despair and dare to dream when I'm able. I can't allow anyone, not ANYONE to destroy my happiness and health.
This is an ongoing situation, one of which I can only address one day at a time because of my current bad health.
Again, I don't use words like "Selfish" loosely. I know what the word means. There are people who accuse others of being selfish... because those people aren't giving them what they want and are not giving into demands. I'm not one of those people. I wouldn't call someone selfish simply because they don't give me what they want... oh, but I've been on the receiving end of that, I can tell you. But that person had a LOT of issues, so there's that.
T's selfishness doesn't make him sexy, doesn't make him 'dearer' to me, and I don't at all find it attractive on any level. Duh, I know. I guess what I'm saying here is that it turns me off in a huge way. A lack of empathy and compassion combined with selfishness is not something one can brag about, I assure you.
There are too many instances to discuss here, and I wouldn't even try. But what happened this morning was like a glass of ice-water in the face, which always leaves me to some serious introspection about where I want my life to be.
I've not slept very well in several nights and last night was the crashing point where my body just finally gave out enough to sleep deeply. T usually wakes me up before he leaves for work so I can take my morning medicine, and since the diagnosis of borderline diabetes I have to check my blood glucose in the mornings.. before taking any medicine or drinking water. It's important I check morning glucose, so this is one thing I never skip as it can reveal a possible turning point in which pre-diabetes can shift and become something more serious.
So T wakes me up, and having been in a VERY DEEP sleep it wasn't easy. I struggled to think, to even speak... I was a little confused and disoriented--not fully awake. As I lay there trying to get my bearings I could see T standing there with this impatient look on his face, and he was using that tone of voice that tells me he's in full-blown passive-aggressive mode. He stood there with that posture that said he was in a hurry. Still too sleepy to get my thoughts straight, I leaned up on one arm attempting to clear my head and wake up fully.
Normally, he will wake me up and put the lancet in the device because, honestly... some days my eyes are SO blurry I can't see well enough to (a blood sugar thing, my doctor says). It takes a few seconds to put the lancet in the device and take the protective cap off. Today, however, he just stood there as a few seconds passed, standing and half-leaning against the dresser. My thoughts, as muddled as they were, came together enough to think... 'Arrogant.' His stance, posture... looked blatantly arrogant.
I was beginning to wake up more at this point as anxiety and stress began to take hold. Many mornings are like this as T will often barrel through the house, half bent as he RUSHES around... as if that behavior was going to somehow get him from point A to point B faster. Well, whatever. Anyway, as the stress began to take hold, as I could feel the anxiety growing in my stomach... he finally turned towards the little table with my glucose monitoring kit, and started to close it. He picked up the meds laying there and was going to hand them to me..... I was very confused at this point. But what he did next.... shocked as well as angered me.
He turned to me and said, "You could just skip this today...."
Huh? What?
I was fully awake at this moment---and oddly speechless. I sat there for a moment, angry... still sleepy, yet fully feeling the effects of what he just said to me. The exchange hadn't lasted even a minute, perhaps 30 seconds at the most. But the impact of what transpired was forceful, and it woke me up in a big way.
Anger wasn't permitting clear thought, I can tell you. I was simply stunned into silence, left with my anger and trying desperately to calm down. What I told him was just to go, to go to work. I'm 100% certain he could tell I was pissed.
Once the initial anxiety and stress subsided I was left weak and achy and beyond fatigued. I went back to bed and slept another 2.5 hours.
In the aftermath of this morning were a few other surprises, just idiotic stuff I had to clean in the kitchen. I swear my children when growing up weren't this messy. So that wasn't fun as a follow up.
I'm not going to explain to him the importance of monitoring my blood sugar as the doctor instructed. He was there IN the room when she gave me the diagnosis! He was in the room when she asked if my mom and oldest sister (who both had diabetes) had any diabetic complications, and when I said YES... he also heard her say that it makes my likelihood of having complications that much higher. He was there when she said I needed medication to hopefully stop the progression, and he was there when she spoke of how serious it is that things be addressed NOW, that pre-diabetes causes damage and raises the risk of heart attack and stroke significantly. He was there.
I was told that the goal for my morning blood glucose levels should be UNDER 100. They've been hovering around 115 but have been as high as 123 and as low as 109. The low of 109 happened only once. If I get readings that consistently show elevated to 124 or above... that's a big red flag. So checking every day gives my doctor an average to see where things are going.
T was there for the entire conversation.
He's shown his hand, as he often does, and I see all too clearly where he stands and what he thinks. He's shown his hand when it comes to everything I'm dealing with, be it Autoimmune Hepatitis, Pre-Diabetes, heart issues, etc. He spends a lot of time watching tv, and a lot of time on FB. He knows very little to nothing about what I'm dealing with because he hasn't bothered to read, research, etc.
I belong to a forum for pre-diabetics and diabetics, and I can't even tell you how many spouses, sisters, brothers, etc... seek information, talk about their concerns, ask what they can do to help. T, in stark contrast... acts as if everything is perfectly normal.
Emotionally, I've been separating myself from T out of necessity. I recognize this as a protective behavior and one that is actually healthy. His lack of compassion, empathy, compassion or concern, his indifference especially... have pretty much turned me off at this point and I'm not trying to fix that because it's not my place. This has happened before, so I recognize where I am in this. I don't find hatefulness, indifference, nor a lack of compassion attractive in the least. I also don't find passive/aggressive, or out-right aggression attractive, and I cannot abide control freaks... in which T is one. At least he knows he's a control freak. He's not doing anything about it, but at least he's aware.
Still, my life's course can't be set by someone else's map. I have to set my own course, make my own decisions, and do what's right and necessary for me, for my health, for my happiness, for my life.
For now all I can do is fight like hell not to fall into that pit of despair and dare to dream when I'm able. I can't allow anyone, not ANYONE to destroy my happiness and health.
This is an ongoing situation, one of which I can only address one day at a time because of my current bad health.
Wednesday, July 13, 2016
Listen...
No really, LISTEN. I'm ADHD and have been all my life. It reveals itself somewhat differently as an adult as it did when I was a child. Makes sense, right? Sometimes I don't hear something or are easily distracted, but not because I'm bored or I don't care what the person talking is saying. However, and I'm only touching on it right now, I'm sick of not being heard.
Too sick to go any further, but I just had to let that out for now.
More on this later---trust me. Ugh.
Tuesday, July 12, 2016
Controlled Crash PART I.
I've not posted in a while, I know. Some days are just too hard to think, much less talk about what's happening. Health issues are still unresolved so I'm living in hell for the most part. Bad thing is, part of that hell, one of the biggest part of that hell isn't my failing health but who I'm with. Today I'm choosing to be blunt. It's about time.
I've spent the better part of the morning, to make a long story short as possible, doing a research--a LOT of research. Doesn't even matter what the subject matter is (not health this time). What IS important and what absolutely matters in every way is the complete disconnection from T... until I make up my own mind about something and choose to act upon it. It's part of being a grown-up, so I hear. You know, making informed decisions on issues that affect one's life. ((sarcasm))
I put in hours worth of research and made my decision after days of talking to people who're experts on the subject, reading, and watching informative videos. It's not like I made my decision rashly or without forethought. By the time I put in the footwork and came to my decision---it was with a 100% certainty. Personally, I have no doubts about my decision at all.
During the stages of research and educating myself on the subject.. T was off in la-la-land, where he seems to spend most of his time (like many average men). Be it diving headlong into a FB fixation that eats up every spare moment, or staring mindlessly at a screen watching some movie or series or whatever. Then there's all the other extraneous things and the important things. When it's all said and done, honestly, I'm left with wondering if I need to make an appointment with him just to have a conversation about important issues. Thing is--I'm not even remotely the time to do that. Oh, I USED to be the girl who would wait like an idiot for Mr. Man to have the time for me, but I don't indulge that anymore.
There just isn't any time. Right? Not exactly...
It's AFTER I put in the time and effort to research something, AFTER I make my decision based on that research and time... when he decides to be a part of the process and tries to TELL me how things will go, how it will happen (or not happen), and goes on to put time in to finding an alternative to my decision. What. The. Actual. Hell?
I'm sorry, but if you're too busy to not be a part of the process, you're sure as hell not going to be a part of the decision. Period. You can't just waltz in and take over AFTER the fact!
There's a certain intelligence that comes with recognizing and working with your limitations, knowing when to stop or take a different course. I know my limitations well and am well informed on how to either get around or overcome them. If you can't identify your limitations they will rule you and your life.
However, there are those who create limitations and full-on embrace them. The most common, and the ones that irritate the hell out of me the most are the following:
I don't know.
I can't.
We'll see.
Maybe.
AND EVERYONE'S FAVORITE... ((sarcasm again))
If I have time.
Sometimes people don't know or can't do something. I get that. But when the question that precedes those answers is "Why"... I start to have a problem with that. "Why are you being an asshole?" "I don't know." You see, the question is what makes those answers so infuriating, not so much the answers themselves.. However, I've always ALWAYS been one to say "I don't know BUT I'LL FIND OUT" if there's any way I can.
So when T attempts to crawl from the shadows and override my decisions and I ask "WHY?"... I honestly don't want to hear "I don't know." And if I hear "I can't," I would like also to know... "WHY?"
It's not like I want to chat like a couple of old ladies over tea. I'm talking about important issues that need discussing OR dealing with me having to make the decisions on my own due to lack of participation. Again, you can't just sashay in later after everything's been said and done and a decision's been made!
It's said that control freaks are generally very lazy people, that their own lives are usually badly out of sorts and they seek to control others in order to FEEL "In control." I'm not talking about those who try to control their own lives, those who will listen to advice from others. Even if that person doesn't TAKE your advice, they at least listen, and THAT is a fundamental difference between an actual control freak and those who may be a bit OCD in their own lives. I can be said that the real control freak will be the one RESISTING ANY advice from you and INSISTING you take their advice.. no matter what, even if it's a very bad choice for you.
I'll end this here, but I'll try to compose PART II in a few minutes....
I've spent the better part of the morning, to make a long story short as possible, doing a research--a LOT of research. Doesn't even matter what the subject matter is (not health this time). What IS important and what absolutely matters in every way is the complete disconnection from T... until I make up my own mind about something and choose to act upon it. It's part of being a grown-up, so I hear. You know, making informed decisions on issues that affect one's life. ((sarcasm))
I put in hours worth of research and made my decision after days of talking to people who're experts on the subject, reading, and watching informative videos. It's not like I made my decision rashly or without forethought. By the time I put in the footwork and came to my decision---it was with a 100% certainty. Personally, I have no doubts about my decision at all.
During the stages of research and educating myself on the subject.. T was off in la-la-land, where he seems to spend most of his time (like many average men). Be it diving headlong into a FB fixation that eats up every spare moment, or staring mindlessly at a screen watching some movie or series or whatever. Then there's all the other extraneous things and the important things. When it's all said and done, honestly, I'm left with wondering if I need to make an appointment with him just to have a conversation about important issues. Thing is--I'm not even remotely the time to do that. Oh, I USED to be the girl who would wait like an idiot for Mr. Man to have the time for me, but I don't indulge that anymore.
There just isn't any time. Right? Not exactly...
It's AFTER I put in the time and effort to research something, AFTER I make my decision based on that research and time... when he decides to be a part of the process and tries to TELL me how things will go, how it will happen (or not happen), and goes on to put time in to finding an alternative to my decision. What. The. Actual. Hell?
I'm sorry, but if you're too busy to not be a part of the process, you're sure as hell not going to be a part of the decision. Period. You can't just waltz in and take over AFTER the fact!
There's a certain intelligence that comes with recognizing and working with your limitations, knowing when to stop or take a different course. I know my limitations well and am well informed on how to either get around or overcome them. If you can't identify your limitations they will rule you and your life.
However, there are those who create limitations and full-on embrace them. The most common, and the ones that irritate the hell out of me the most are the following:
I don't know.
I can't.
We'll see.
Maybe.
AND EVERYONE'S FAVORITE... ((sarcasm again))
If I have time.
Sometimes people don't know or can't do something. I get that. But when the question that precedes those answers is "Why"... I start to have a problem with that. "Why are you being an asshole?" "I don't know." You see, the question is what makes those answers so infuriating, not so much the answers themselves.. However, I've always ALWAYS been one to say "I don't know BUT I'LL FIND OUT" if there's any way I can.
So when T attempts to crawl from the shadows and override my decisions and I ask "WHY?"... I honestly don't want to hear "I don't know." And if I hear "I can't," I would like also to know... "WHY?"
It's not like I want to chat like a couple of old ladies over tea. I'm talking about important issues that need discussing OR dealing with me having to make the decisions on my own due to lack of participation. Again, you can't just sashay in later after everything's been said and done and a decision's been made!
It's said that control freaks are generally very lazy people, that their own lives are usually badly out of sorts and they seek to control others in order to FEEL "In control." I'm not talking about those who try to control their own lives, those who will listen to advice from others. Even if that person doesn't TAKE your advice, they at least listen, and THAT is a fundamental difference between an actual control freak and those who may be a bit OCD in their own lives. I can be said that the real control freak will be the one RESISTING ANY advice from you and INSISTING you take their advice.. no matter what, even if it's a very bad choice for you.
I'll end this here, but I'll try to compose PART II in a few minutes....
Wednesday, June 29, 2016
Narcissist Much?
Narcissists. I've not talked about this subject in some time. The unfortunate truth is that I still struggle to get past the damage that was done and find it interfering even to this day with day to day life. I had a good head start in the right direction with a therapist who helped me identify with what I was dealing with in a relationship, but that head start was only just that. Sadly, the past is catching up to me as I feel myself and my life slowing due to illness. I can no longer emotionally run or sprint to stay ahead of what still lurks behind in my past.
I won't go into the whole narcissist explanation again, and frankly I'm not well enough to deal with revisiting my experiences. There are tons of articles and videos about the subject if you need more information. Not that I won't visit or talk about this topic again, because I will. Just not right now, not today.
My point here today is to warn anyone in a relationship with a narcissist that if they don't get out soon.. the effects of the experiences will be with you and possibly forever. Your time and life, who you are as a person is precious and more fragile than you'd ever realize without that smack up side your head. Not all needs that smack, but... I certainly did, and I regret very much NEEDING that to make me do the right thing and protect myself, to admit that I'm worth protecting.
As much as I avoid it I sometimes look back and feel such regret that I allowed myself to be emotionally beaten to a pulp. Some may say I shouldn't 'go there,' that I shouldn't revisit such experiences, but to that I would have to say---it's important that I don't forget. Whatever compelled me to abandon myself that way, the HORRIBLE self-esteem created by a strange childhood life experiences left me more vulnerable than I could've imagined. My vulnerability to certain emotionally dangerous elements did a tremendous amount of damage, leaving me to accept, NEEDING to accept the fact that I was completely unprepared to defend myself.
My health began to go downhill at the very start of my experience. Dealing with the insidious nature of another's narcissistic personality was draining, frightening, confusing, bewildering, and it left me absolutely questioning who I am. That weakened state took hold, and fed by chronic stress and anxiety grew and eroded my health. It's almost impossible to turn this off once it takes hold and takes control over you. Just don't let it happen. I wish I hadn't.
Even today I have to fight with the damage the experience left inside, the razor-sharp doubt that cuts strategically away at my happiness and health. Many times I'm successful with shoving it all into the bowels of my subconscious.... but it's there, always there, always watching and waiting for me to let my guard down.
The message is to myself and to you. If you deal with it now or have in the past... love yourself more than you loved that other person. Love yourself more than you fear that other person. Love yourself enough to get out and get help, because there's nothing more important than protecting yourself and your health.
I'm hurting too much to keep typing, so.... if you're curious or unsure if you're dealing with or living with a narcissist... don't assume you think you can recognize it even if your face to face with it. Read about it, and watch the numerous videos out there about this subject.
One suggestion: Read about and watch videos regarding "Gaslighting," and if you recognize it as something being done to you---get out fast!
I won't go into the whole narcissist explanation again, and frankly I'm not well enough to deal with revisiting my experiences. There are tons of articles and videos about the subject if you need more information. Not that I won't visit or talk about this topic again, because I will. Just not right now, not today.
My point here today is to warn anyone in a relationship with a narcissist that if they don't get out soon.. the effects of the experiences will be with you and possibly forever. Your time and life, who you are as a person is precious and more fragile than you'd ever realize without that smack up side your head. Not all needs that smack, but... I certainly did, and I regret very much NEEDING that to make me do the right thing and protect myself, to admit that I'm worth protecting.
As much as I avoid it I sometimes look back and feel such regret that I allowed myself to be emotionally beaten to a pulp. Some may say I shouldn't 'go there,' that I shouldn't revisit such experiences, but to that I would have to say---it's important that I don't forget. Whatever compelled me to abandon myself that way, the HORRIBLE self-esteem created by a strange childhood life experiences left me more vulnerable than I could've imagined. My vulnerability to certain emotionally dangerous elements did a tremendous amount of damage, leaving me to accept, NEEDING to accept the fact that I was completely unprepared to defend myself.
My health began to go downhill at the very start of my experience. Dealing with the insidious nature of another's narcissistic personality was draining, frightening, confusing, bewildering, and it left me absolutely questioning who I am. That weakened state took hold, and fed by chronic stress and anxiety grew and eroded my health. It's almost impossible to turn this off once it takes hold and takes control over you. Just don't let it happen. I wish I hadn't.
Even today I have to fight with the damage the experience left inside, the razor-sharp doubt that cuts strategically away at my happiness and health. Many times I'm successful with shoving it all into the bowels of my subconscious.... but it's there, always there, always watching and waiting for me to let my guard down.
The message is to myself and to you. If you deal with it now or have in the past... love yourself more than you loved that other person. Love yourself more than you fear that other person. Love yourself enough to get out and get help, because there's nothing more important than protecting yourself and your health.
I'm hurting too much to keep typing, so.... if you're curious or unsure if you're dealing with or living with a narcissist... don't assume you think you can recognize it even if your face to face with it. Read about it, and watch the numerous videos out there about this subject.
One suggestion: Read about and watch videos regarding "Gaslighting," and if you recognize it as something being done to you---get out fast!
Labels:
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Saturday, June 18, 2016
To Live.
I've posted in my other blogs so am a bit spent here. Please forgive any 'flat' statements. And if this all comes across tired... it's because it is, and I am. Somewhere between life and death there has to be actual LIVING. For me, this is a bit more difficult to achieve. So how and when do I get my health back, my energy back, my LIFE back? Haven't I been asking this same question for what seems forever? No need to answer that.
I'm sitting here right now hearing that inner voice of my body sending me every available signal that I need to lay down. But that's not what I'm looking for, not what I want to do. Bedridden isn't living. I've managed to get out of that constant bedridden state, but it hasn't made standing, sitting, walking, or even being alive... easy. So now what?
I don't harbor any false hope of T ever obtaining the ability to be anything other than what he is, or what he chooses to be; lost in a non-compassionate state. He fully embraces indifference, and I believe he does so because, well, it's simply lazy and easier. A lot of men are like this. Too many. He knows he is too and doesn't seem to care that he is. But he rails against the truth even while he admits it, stating that he's very loving and compassionate. Okay. Maybe. But not to me. What this has done over time is make me pull away, and yes I've told him this. I know where this is heading where I'm concerned.
I long for that time when I wasn't dating, in a relationship, when I was fully myself even if my health was failing at that time. And it wasn't all that long ago, really. Time passes, months and years, and I've watched my health fail in a situation that lacks empathy. What the hell am I supposed to do with that?
Many nights I can't sleep because the growing anxiety has bullied it's way into the only respite I used to know---sleep. Dammit.
I wake up tired, spent, worn out, and unmotivated. This isn't going to help me heal and, in fact, will hurt me even more.
Will today, this weekend, be yet another failure on T's part? Will he insist yet again on buying food that hurts my health and ignoring ALL of my doctors' warnings? I can't say I'm optimistic about this.
I'm exhausted trying to be my own champion.
I'm sitting here right now hearing that inner voice of my body sending me every available signal that I need to lay down. But that's not what I'm looking for, not what I want to do. Bedridden isn't living. I've managed to get out of that constant bedridden state, but it hasn't made standing, sitting, walking, or even being alive... easy. So now what?
I don't harbor any false hope of T ever obtaining the ability to be anything other than what he is, or what he chooses to be; lost in a non-compassionate state. He fully embraces indifference, and I believe he does so because, well, it's simply lazy and easier. A lot of men are like this. Too many. He knows he is too and doesn't seem to care that he is. But he rails against the truth even while he admits it, stating that he's very loving and compassionate. Okay. Maybe. But not to me. What this has done over time is make me pull away, and yes I've told him this. I know where this is heading where I'm concerned.
I long for that time when I wasn't dating, in a relationship, when I was fully myself even if my health was failing at that time. And it wasn't all that long ago, really. Time passes, months and years, and I've watched my health fail in a situation that lacks empathy. What the hell am I supposed to do with that?
Many nights I can't sleep because the growing anxiety has bullied it's way into the only respite I used to know---sleep. Dammit.
I wake up tired, spent, worn out, and unmotivated. This isn't going to help me heal and, in fact, will hurt me even more.
Will today, this weekend, be yet another failure on T's part? Will he insist yet again on buying food that hurts my health and ignoring ALL of my doctors' warnings? I can't say I'm optimistic about this.
I'm exhausted trying to be my own champion.
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Wednesday, June 1, 2016
When I'm without words, music....
When I'm without words, music...
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Tuesday, April 19, 2016
Home.
One thing I've known for certain for pretty much all of my life is that when I'm ill, I long for home. When I was little I knew where that place was, and despite its terrible flaws it was still home. As an adult I was surprised to find that I no longer knew exactly where home was. So I would spend the majority of my adult life longing for a place that quite possibly, for me anyway, doesn't exist. I've never been able to reconcile this; not physically, and certainly not emotionally.
The closest I've come to being "Home" once moving out of my mom's house at 18 is Mobile, AL. I had a tiny little apartment, and though not every moment there was perfect, it felt safe, and it felt like a warn welcome every time I walked through the door--no matter how good or bad things were. It was a safe place for me to be myself, where I could decompress, where I could dream, wish, hope and feel alive. This is not the case where I am now. Not even close.
How did I get here? I got here the same way I got into every bad situation in my life; By pure blind trust. It's a flaw of mine and one that's gotten me into more trouble than I can tell you. I give people the benefit of the doubt, take them on their word, and actually believe what they say. Well, to a point anyway. The thing is, that 'point' in which I pivot and see the error of my ways is usually far too late to avoid any damage to my life, and to me.
I'll probably always be this way, a far too trusting person. I'm okay with that, I guess. But I really wish I were better at assessing and discerning the heart and motives of people BEFORE I get involved. We all have our flaws, I suppose.
As I wait for the sluggish process of diagnosis beyond the AIH, I'm left far too vulnerable for my liking. There are days I can't walk well, verging on not at all, and days where lifting my arms to look at my phone is almost too much. The weakness grows more each day and the doctors I need to see are weeks out of reach since I'll be a new patient. The waiting is going to end me in the ER at some point, I'm afraid. But the worst of this is being this sick and living in a place where I know absolutely no one at all.
T only helps around here bare minimum, and as the chores, etc. pile up... I long for the simplicity of the life I had in Mobile, where I didn't have to clean up after another human who refuses to do what's necessary to not live in a dirty, cluttered house. I can't live this way, so I struggle to pick up the slack. And I'll tell you, the slack is far far more than what T actually does.
How the hell did he survive on his own?
I have to somehow find my way home--wherever that is. I know I can keep struggling a little bit to find my way here, to at least hang in there until I'm better---or at least better enough to survive, to move, to do something to help myself. At this rate I don't know if I can work, which scares that crap out of me. Disability requires a definite diagnosis, and at this time I don't have one that explains fully how I'm continuing to weaken and become more and more sick. What can I do if even typing an entry like this makes me shaky and nauseated with weakness?
I want to be well again, to feel good again, to have energy again. I want to be in a position where I can find my way back home again.
Home. I just want to be... home.
The closest I've come to being "Home" once moving out of my mom's house at 18 is Mobile, AL. I had a tiny little apartment, and though not every moment there was perfect, it felt safe, and it felt like a warn welcome every time I walked through the door--no matter how good or bad things were. It was a safe place for me to be myself, where I could decompress, where I could dream, wish, hope and feel alive. This is not the case where I am now. Not even close.
How did I get here? I got here the same way I got into every bad situation in my life; By pure blind trust. It's a flaw of mine and one that's gotten me into more trouble than I can tell you. I give people the benefit of the doubt, take them on their word, and actually believe what they say. Well, to a point anyway. The thing is, that 'point' in which I pivot and see the error of my ways is usually far too late to avoid any damage to my life, and to me.
I'll probably always be this way, a far too trusting person. I'm okay with that, I guess. But I really wish I were better at assessing and discerning the heart and motives of people BEFORE I get involved. We all have our flaws, I suppose.
As I wait for the sluggish process of diagnosis beyond the AIH, I'm left far too vulnerable for my liking. There are days I can't walk well, verging on not at all, and days where lifting my arms to look at my phone is almost too much. The weakness grows more each day and the doctors I need to see are weeks out of reach since I'll be a new patient. The waiting is going to end me in the ER at some point, I'm afraid. But the worst of this is being this sick and living in a place where I know absolutely no one at all.
T only helps around here bare minimum, and as the chores, etc. pile up... I long for the simplicity of the life I had in Mobile, where I didn't have to clean up after another human who refuses to do what's necessary to not live in a dirty, cluttered house. I can't live this way, so I struggle to pick up the slack. And I'll tell you, the slack is far far more than what T actually does.
How the hell did he survive on his own?
I have to somehow find my way home--wherever that is. I know I can keep struggling a little bit to find my way here, to at least hang in there until I'm better---or at least better enough to survive, to move, to do something to help myself. At this rate I don't know if I can work, which scares that crap out of me. Disability requires a definite diagnosis, and at this time I don't have one that explains fully how I'm continuing to weaken and become more and more sick. What can I do if even typing an entry like this makes me shaky and nauseated with weakness?
I want to be well again, to feel good again, to have energy again. I want to be in a position where I can find my way back home again.
Home. I just want to be... home.
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Thursday, April 7, 2016
The last several days have been fraught with a fatigue and weakness unlike anything I've ever known. Basically, for the last several days I've been pretty much bedridden, only able to sit up for a VERY short period of time. Painful, tired, and weak, I spent what little time I was awake researching if there was a medication I was taking that could be doing this. What I found was across the board complaints about every drug I'm on. Narrowing things down to a time frame when I began getting worse I found that cessation of Prednisone and AZA kicking in were likely the culprits. Here is where things get tricky...
Prednisone and immunosuppressants are the go-to protocols for nearly all autoimmune diseases. At the highest dosage of 40mg/day I felt amazingly well, energetic, and somewhat strong again. It was about as close to 'normal' I've felt in years. With the first taper I began to feel badly again, but eventually had to come off with a slower taper which ended about a week ago. AZA (Imuran) was added along the way and is something one is kept on long-term to stave off flares of the disease, in my case autoimmune hepatitis -- don't confuse this with visual hepatitis (hep C for example). This is an autoimmune situation in which my immune system thinks my liver is a foreign body that needs, well, killed off. Overlapping AI disease is also suspected here, but symptoms cross over and overlap to the point where it's difficult to tell what else is going on. Myositis or Sarcoidosis are suspects here given my aldolase was highly elevated more than once, even on the medications. It is within normal range since taking the imuran in higher doses.
FAST FORWARD...
I don't know which is causing this horrid weakness and fatigue, and other symptoms as well, so I opted to call the doctor to TELL him I'm stopping the AZA for a time to see if that's the culprit. His response was agreement, BUT he wanted me to restart the Prednisone at 60mg per day! I told the nurse on the phone, who relayed the message to me, that I wasn't going back on prednisone because the side effects were intolerable and it causes so much weight gain, which I've just now begun to lose. I'm not going back. She said she would relay the message to the Dr. I have an appt with him next week and know I'm going to have to give push-back because I'm UNWILLING to take prednisone again.
I've just stopped the AZA yesterday and am not doing well as I'm still weak, fatigued, and wanting to sleep most of the day. I have a feeling some of this will improve as the AZA leaves my body.
I know the risks. I know and accept that I could have a big flare of AIH and my liver could be damaged because of it. But here's the thing: I have to wage longevity with quality of life, and in doing so have come to the conclusion that I simply can't have both. I'm choosing quality over quantity.
And hey, for all I know it could take a couple of years before I have a flare again. But as for any other AI disease going on, be it Myositis or Sarcoidosis, no one has given another diagnosis as of yet so there's little reason for me to worry about those possibilities. Having been on the treatment protocol for those, because it's the same as AIH, it's going to be tough trying to diagnose either due to my taking prednisone and AZA for this long. Even so, all I can do is see how it goes moving forward.
I'm actually quite surprised that I can event type, because the last several days I've barely been able to hold up my iPhone while laying in bed due to the weakness. You've no idea how bad the weakness is.
Another thing I have to deal with, which I'm not sure is a bad thing, is the loss of appetite. I mean, I've gone back to FEELING that I need to eat, where my body gives physical signals that I may need nutrition but don't have actual HUNGER. Also, this is the third day where it's not just a lack of hunger but also very early satiety. I've been taking in less than 1,000 calories a day, which I will pay for dearly if I'm not careful, especially if I'm dealing with Myositis. But that's another talk show.
So for now just know I have to play it by ear and see how I feel, because I may not be able to post here every day---though I do hope I can because that means I'm either feeling better or one tough chick for posting when I feel like I'm going to fall off the chair any moment. ;p C'mon.. that was funny. See? My sense of humor shows up every now and then.
How am I managing through all of this?.... well, I have to admit that's a whole other talk show....
Prednisone and immunosuppressants are the go-to protocols for nearly all autoimmune diseases. At the highest dosage of 40mg/day I felt amazingly well, energetic, and somewhat strong again. It was about as close to 'normal' I've felt in years. With the first taper I began to feel badly again, but eventually had to come off with a slower taper which ended about a week ago. AZA (Imuran) was added along the way and is something one is kept on long-term to stave off flares of the disease, in my case autoimmune hepatitis -- don't confuse this with visual hepatitis (hep C for example). This is an autoimmune situation in which my immune system thinks my liver is a foreign body that needs, well, killed off. Overlapping AI disease is also suspected here, but symptoms cross over and overlap to the point where it's difficult to tell what else is going on. Myositis or Sarcoidosis are suspects here given my aldolase was highly elevated more than once, even on the medications. It is within normal range since taking the imuran in higher doses.
FAST FORWARD...
I don't know which is causing this horrid weakness and fatigue, and other symptoms as well, so I opted to call the doctor to TELL him I'm stopping the AZA for a time to see if that's the culprit. His response was agreement, BUT he wanted me to restart the Prednisone at 60mg per day! I told the nurse on the phone, who relayed the message to me, that I wasn't going back on prednisone because the side effects were intolerable and it causes so much weight gain, which I've just now begun to lose. I'm not going back. She said she would relay the message to the Dr. I have an appt with him next week and know I'm going to have to give push-back because I'm UNWILLING to take prednisone again.
I've just stopped the AZA yesterday and am not doing well as I'm still weak, fatigued, and wanting to sleep most of the day. I have a feeling some of this will improve as the AZA leaves my body.
I know the risks. I know and accept that I could have a big flare of AIH and my liver could be damaged because of it. But here's the thing: I have to wage longevity with quality of life, and in doing so have come to the conclusion that I simply can't have both. I'm choosing quality over quantity.
And hey, for all I know it could take a couple of years before I have a flare again. But as for any other AI disease going on, be it Myositis or Sarcoidosis, no one has given another diagnosis as of yet so there's little reason for me to worry about those possibilities. Having been on the treatment protocol for those, because it's the same as AIH, it's going to be tough trying to diagnose either due to my taking prednisone and AZA for this long. Even so, all I can do is see how it goes moving forward.
I'm actually quite surprised that I can event type, because the last several days I've barely been able to hold up my iPhone while laying in bed due to the weakness. You've no idea how bad the weakness is.
Another thing I have to deal with, which I'm not sure is a bad thing, is the loss of appetite. I mean, I've gone back to FEELING that I need to eat, where my body gives physical signals that I may need nutrition but don't have actual HUNGER. Also, this is the third day where it's not just a lack of hunger but also very early satiety. I've been taking in less than 1,000 calories a day, which I will pay for dearly if I'm not careful, especially if I'm dealing with Myositis. But that's another talk show.
So for now just know I have to play it by ear and see how I feel, because I may not be able to post here every day---though I do hope I can because that means I'm either feeling better or one tough chick for posting when I feel like I'm going to fall off the chair any moment. ;p C'mon.. that was funny. See? My sense of humor shows up every now and then.
How am I managing through all of this?.... well, I have to admit that's a whole other talk show....
Labels:
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Wednesday, March 23, 2016
Screams behind the silence.
Be proper. Be respectful. Don't say anything. Allow it to hurt. Walk away. Seek solace within. Shut out the world. Be careful. Bury it deep within. Try and forget. Sedation in sleep. Don't talk. Don't FEEL anything and it won't hurt.
No matter what I tell myself the truth behind the feelings won't give me respite. I've refused to allow myself the freedom of addressing what "I" need in the past and felt the sting of days and weeks and years lost, years where I was put on pause and left to wither inside. Right now I can't say I'm doing well in that department again. This time... I feel myself, who I am, once again collapsing beneath it all.
I try to remain as silent as possible, as still as I can bring myself to be. That silence, though no one understands, is louder than anything they could actually handle.
WTF kind of life is this anyway? None. None at all.
No matter what I tell myself the truth behind the feelings won't give me respite. I've refused to allow myself the freedom of addressing what "I" need in the past and felt the sting of days and weeks and years lost, years where I was put on pause and left to wither inside. Right now I can't say I'm doing well in that department again. This time... I feel myself, who I am, once again collapsing beneath it all.
I try to remain as silent as possible, as still as I can bring myself to be. That silence, though no one understands, is louder than anything they could actually handle.
WTF kind of life is this anyway? None. None at all.
Thursday, February 25, 2016
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....
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....
Monday, February 22, 2016
---O---M---G---!
The 'something' at this point isn't even relevant, because T is a repeat offender when it comes to the pushback, etc. that comes with trying to keep up with my health. I've no one else in which to ask for help. No one at all. I'm exhausted, spent, and hollow inside. Vibrance exited my life, not with illness, but with the lack of a support network. Not a soul in my life in which to have a heartfelt discussion about any of this.
An hour into writing this T decided to pick a fight with me. I'm not in a place to fight, argue, and have no desire to continue to do so. At the moment, in this half-alive and spent existence, all I want right now is to have peace, tranquility, happiness, joy, and the kind of hope that brings possibility into being.
At the moment.... where I was once just irritated, I'm just empty. Where in all of this is any sign of life? I literally feel like a ghost walking the earth.
Where are all the gentlemen in the world, the full-formed males as it were? Where is the guy that can look at a situation and see something in need of repair, correction, instead of just seeing something to complain about? It took me at least a year to realize how much was going to be left up to me to carry this relationship. I'm just not up to it, whether anyone likes it or not. It's a no-can-do for me. Plug-in or get out.
I did know a couple of guys who fit the description of "Gentleman" here in my time here on planet earth. One of them I knew I couldn't be in a relationship with because I didn't feel anything 'romantic' for him. I saw him as a dear friend, but that's about it. The other is another story, but one meant for another time, another post. But the art of being a gentleman is surely all but dead. Few men respect women these days.
I believe taking a couple of years to tell someone that X, Y, and Z are harmful to me, pointing out behaviors that could be EASILY changed, most often without much effort, that could take a tremendous amount of stress off me and improve both our lives. Not even things terribly complex, but things nonetheless that are so numerous as to when they occur to be a major problem.
It's time to crawl in bed, cover up, put the headphones on and listen to music---my most favorite escape these days. I have no other coping mechanism and can handle only so much for so long. It's hollowed me out completely.
I don't trust T anymore. It's not about cheating, because he's not that type. But it is about his constantly, and on a daily basis, habit of breaking his word, then trying to twist things back around on me when he fails to keep his word. I'm not going to bear his cross as I have my own to carry.
It's been a shitty day for sure. It's time I make today disappear into music and dreams. Tomorrow means I will be alone, and that my friends... is a good thing. In the meantime I will try and find another reason for getting out of bed.
Where have all the gentleman gone?...
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Waning Patience.
Patience used to be one of my strong points, though that doesn't mean that under certain circumstances that I didn't have my patience tested, sometimes to the extreme. And it's okay to lose one's patience now and then, because shoving emotions down only makes for a more emotional outcome/reaction later on. I'm all about being honest with emotions, not burying them so they rise later as a twisted, overblown version of themselves.
But what happens when you're with someone who either beats you down emotionally (or physically as in some cases) for feeling, expressing or sharing those feelings? After a time one of two things will happen: Either you will suppress your feelings to a self-damaging degree, or you will become very reactive as the bruises are poked and prodded on a regular basis. And that's putting it mildly.
Long ago, as a child, I learned to not express anger. Kids are taught, as we all know, that losing your temper or expressing anger isn't a good thing. Well, for the most part this is true. We have to learn to express our feelings in a controlled manner when possible. Some situations do warrant not holding everything back. However, when people teach children to NOT express anger there is a very real possibility, a very strong one, that the child will grow up suppressing anger, and many go on to suppressing most, if not all, emotions/feelings. This is a disaster in the making.
I learned quickly that expressing anger AND sadness was a punishable "crime." Whether the punishment was shaming, guilting, being sent to my room, grounded, scolded, etc... it didn't matter, because the outcome was always the same---negative feedback. This did a lot of damage and I'm still trying to get past that damage, to heal and feel whole again. It's not easy, I'll tell you, and I wish my mom would've had the foresight and intuition to teach me to FEEL while learning healthy ways to EXPRESS those feelings.
With each relationship I got into I became a huge sponge that absorbed everything that was thrown at me. Every unkind and hateful word, every mean-spirited criticism, every joke about me in which I was always the punch line (a treasured abuse by narcissists, btw), even the stonewalling became something I took on as a part of myself. No wonder I'm broken.
My relationships became an extension of my experiences with my mom, with almost ALL of them carrying on the hurtful legacy I would carry and eventually be crushed by later in my life. My choices in men weren't the smartest, and I'm willing to admit that I didn't SEE or recognize what I was doing until just a few years ago.
The relationship I'm in now is more than trying, to put it mildly. T isn't an 'abuser,' but he's simply, more often than not, just not here. The blatant absence, even in his presence, is a perfect reflection of yet another favored 'punishment' met out by my mother, the indifference and tuning-out being the most painful of things, damaging in their deliverance and painful as a well-delivered punch, maybe even more so.
My days are brought with not being heard, not listened to, with even the smallest gesture of respect something I rarely receive from this guy who claims to 'love' me. Communication is a nightmare in which I can never wake it seems. At nearly batting 100 at this point, T literally hears perhaps the last couple of words in a sentence or phrase, often not even acknowledging that I had spoken. Repeating myself constantly has become a stress I no longer want to have, so I rarely initiate conversation with him for this reason.
My past is laden with such things, though of a darker and more abusive nature. While I didn't recognize it at the time my entire being was being eroded in such a way that I would only see the situation for what it was only after my spirit was broken. Even into this relationship the insidious nature of that erosion of self continues to make itself known and without any hint of what can heal what is still an open wound. That's okay for now, though, because if I can recognize what's happening I can eventually find a way out, to allow healing even if it's in small, minuscule measures.
I have a confession to make. This whole 'not being heard' thing has worn me to the bone, leaving my capacity for patience wanting, to say the least. Yes, Prednisone in my system, and even in its exit from my system brings with it moodiness as it doesn't allow anymore for the cortisol (the anti-stress hormone) to swoop in and save the day. There is only what is in my system artificially until my adrenal glands wake up and being doing their job at full capacity; the waiting totally sucks, I promise you.
Being within 2 feet of T and not being heard is something I'm not okay with anymore. I don't have the desire to repeat every sentence or word every day of my life. I just have no desire or energy for such a thing, and it makes communication enormous work and a frustrating endeavor that I've lost almost all interest in. I find myself in tears as T is the only person I'm around these days, and the realization that I'm so at his mercy while he HAS no mercy is staggering in its significance when it comes to my life and my health.
This is not a situation all that unfamiliar to me.
I've been down this road before, only the terrain looks a little different. Being sick, having major health issues arise (such as a TIA, which I had in 2013) and having someone in my life who was indifferent, 'put-out' by my being sick, having my emotions, self-esteem and body pushed beyond any reasonable limit damaged my health--both physical and emotional. This was on a far, far greater scale than anything I'd ever experienced in my life and mostly due to my not understanding what it was I was dealign with. I know now, of course, but it's not of any help at the moment. I'm at T's mercy, totally, so when I try to talk about anything, especially the most important things and am tuned-out to the point where I'm literally talking to myself... I admit... it's brought me to tears over the last week or so. I'm too weak, to tired, and way too sick to be able to handle this in any healthy fashion.
Yesterday was so incredibly hard. I spent most of the day in bed, covered up, dealing with a tuned-out T to freezing one moment and overheating the next. It was just too much at one time, and I didn't handle it well. I fight to get out of bed every day, to try yet one more time while embracing the hope that today will be the day I feel better and more like myself. It's all I have. Yet my day was spent in bed yesterday for the most part because I was unable to find any motivation to even so much as sit upright and watch tv. There's a lot of details I'm not adding, but I honestly don't have the energy to type much more than I have.
All I know is that history is somewhat repeating itself, and the damage from the past is fusing with the damage from the present, leaving me spent, depressed, and defeated.
It's really all I know right now...
Labels:
absence,
abuse,
AIH,
anxiety,
autoimmune hepatitis,
blog,
body,
life,
living,
lost,
prednisone,
relationship,
respect,
self,
voice,
WTF
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