Weekly Update: February nearly killed me

 

So, let's do a rundown of the month...

Diabetes

Cancer Scare

Father's Death

Frozen Pipes

Burst Pipes

Cat Got Out*

"The man" barely speaking to me

Possibly losing my friendship with Eric**

I know there's more, but that's off the top of my head. The cat was the final straw that broke me and the Eric thing is the one I worry the most over. Today is March 1st and I'm trying to pull it back together to get things done that need to be done, but it's hard. Luckily, Ben "the slavedriver" is here and he keeps me on track. Today's list includes:

Call the plumber

Clean the bathroom

Take down the Christmas tree so the desk is useable

Clean out the laundry room closet

Go to the post office

Help him with his paper

Help him fill out some paperwork

Again, that's off the top of my head. All I can do though is take it one thing at a time. I called the plumber and they'll either be here today between noon and four or not until Thursday. I really want it to be today. I'm hoping that as long as they're here, I can ask about the water heater and maybe get that fixed too. Hot showers at home would be wonderful. 

For now though...I have to go take down that tree.

Take care of yourselves and each other.

Thoughts on My Father

 Yesterday, as I sat in a private room, draped in a gown, I got a text from my sister. She never texts me so I knew something was wrong. It turns out that my father died yesterday morning. I'd love to say that I burst into tears or had some "normal" reaction, but I didn't. I was pretty much numb to the whole thing. I spent every spare minute after trying to sort out my feelings...

Justin says that I don't need to try to untangle all of it, that he wasn't really a good part of my life so it's not surprising that I don't really feel anything. I do feel things though...

I feel sadness that he wasted 44 years of my life and 20/21 years of my children's lives by choosing not to make any kind of effort to be a part of them. Oh sure, he would pop up from time to time but he wasn't a regular part of our lives or even really a parent of any kind. He wasn't someone I could turn to and that makes me sad.

I feel anger because I've had to separate myself away from that side of my family because he was so toxic and make it so I didn't feel as if I could trust any of them. After all, "your father's family likes to drink and smoke (pot)." That wasn't an environment to bring up my children in and that put an even larger wedge between us because he thought that I thought I was too good for them. Not too good, I just wanted better...and to have ever had to defend that makes me angry.

I laid in bed last night and was thinking about the last time that I saw him. It has to be 9 years ago now or so. The boys and I were in my parents house, down in their living room. We had spent the day cleaning out my grandmother's house and my mother reluctantly let us spend the night at their house so that they could get my help the following day. I should point out that this is after she insisted we bring our own food because she wasn't going to feed us. I should also point out that I brought over enough really nice chicken breasts to feed everyone and they were mad at me because I didn't know how to use their grill to also prepare them for everyone. Yep, you read that right. She insisted I not only bring food, but I prepare it for everyone. Anyway, the food was ready and we three were waiting in the living room for my mother, father, and brother to get their food so there'd be room for me to make plates for myself and the boys. There was a pass through window between the two rooms and we sat there as my father said horrible things about me...how I was lazy, a user of people, and I don't even remember what else. It upset my children and it hurt me badly. My uncle had to "bribe" me to spend the night there so that he could get my help the next day. Of course, the next day, he didn't come through on his word and I discovered Roger had picked up head lice from their house. 

But that was the last time I really remember seeing my father. I expect that he was at my grandmother's funeral, but that day is kind of a blur. All I remember was that my children and I stood by ourselves before the funeral and were essentially ignored.

My father had ample opportunities to make any kind of effort. I haven't moved in eleven years. My phone number hasn't changed in basically that long. I'm on social media. He had numerous ways that he could have reached out. I can almost hear his family saying, "You could have reached out too." Yes, I could have but why should I have? He was the one who caused the damage. He was the one to start hurting me from the time I was a toddler and he let his girlfriend beat me and I'm pretty sure almost drown me in the bathtub. I have ptsd that stems from that and I've had to work hard to not have certain things freak me out. 

So, how do I feel now that he's gone? Sad, tired (so tired), angry...but mostly, I feel empty. There's a hole where a father should have been yet never has been and now never will be. Perhaps his three other children will mourn him, but I think I did my mourning in bits and pieces over the past 44 years. I don't have anything more to give him. As I said when I decided to go to my diabetes education class last night instead of staying home...He didn't take care of me in life, certainly won't in death so it's up to me to do what's best for me. 

Weekly Update: Dramatic Week

 Whew...I'm almost glad it's Monday again after last week. I posted that I was a good girl and went and had my annual mammogram. What I didn't expect was to get a call on Tuesday saying that they'd seen something and wanted me to come back in for an additional mammogram on my right breast and an ultrasound on both. Eek! Honestly, this didn't freak me out too much...Okay, it did freak me out some. I can't lie about it...people who dealt with me read this...

I'd never been called back for both before and it worried me. I mean, cancer is a big scary word and I was hearing it a lot in my head. So, Wednesday I went back for the mammogram. It was a tough one. They applied a lot more pressure and had me standing in ways that no normal person ever stands in. After taking more images than my original mammogram, the technician put me back into the private waiting area while she checked to see if more were needed. I waited in there, fussing and fretting for 15 minutes before she came back to tell me that the radiologist wanted more. Oy. When it was finally over, I took about a hundred deep breathes and went to Walmart and bought clearance LEGO...as if I need more, right?

Thursday rolled around and I went in for the ultrasound. The technician and the intern were both really nice and we chatted throughout most of the ultrasound. I guess I became so used to being a "guinea pig/learning tool" while pregnant all those years ago that having a male intern in there was no big deal. It's all medical, right? Anyway, she did very thorough ultrasounds of both breasts and I'm not going to lie. Her silence while she worked on the right one freaked me out. Afterwards? Back to Walmart, this time to buy Dylan's birthday present. 

Then it became a waiting game. On Saturday the results of the mammogram came back and said suspicious and that a biopsy was recommended. That scared the tar out of me. Typical me, I made jokes with the few people I had told. They all knew though. They know me well enough by now. I had nightmares of ...well...not getting to be back with Rob or "the man" ever again or being physically rejected by them if I had to have a masectomy. Crazy stupid I know. 

Yesterday I updated my "if I die" file which is basically like a will and I sent it to Rob and to Justin so they'd have it. By that point, I'd calmed down and realized it was probably all nothing, but I guess I wanted to be prepared anyway.

Today, the results of the ultrasound came in and it basically says there's a whole bunch of cysts happening and they're probably benign. I'm waiting for them to call me to find out what the next step is. It could be the biopsy or it could be come back in six months and we'll look everything over again. Either way, I don't think it's going to be super scary bad news, thank goodness. I kept thinking how will I handle both cancer and diabetes when I'm struggling just to handle the diabetes. It's good that I won't have to. 

...and that was my kinda scary week. I'm so glad it's over so that I can take a long, deep breath and get back to regular life.

Bonus Post: Diabetes

 Well, it's finally happened. My "inability" to take care of myself has led to me being diagnosed with Type 2 Diabetes. My doctor assures me that if I lose the weight and start paying attention to my diet and actually get some exercise, that it's reversible. I have nobody to blame but myself. I'm at my heaviest weight and it's due to all of the crap that I've spent the past 5 months or so eating. 

I'm freaked though. I don't know how to fix this. Okay, I do. I mean, I lost 75 pounds in the past. The thing is...at that time, I had a place in my house to workout and a kitchen floor that didn't threaten to kill me whenever I step on it. Ben would tell me to stop making excuses and fix the problems. Really that's my only choice, but I'm feeling totally overwhelmed. 

I had to go and have more bloodwork done. I'm being put on medication. I might go see a diabetic nutrionist and she wants me to go see my eye doctor. I guess I'll have to call my insurance company to see if I can go before April because she doesn't want me to wait that long. 

I don't know, y'all. I'm super sad that I didn't love myself enough to prevent this. I'm not angry. I'm just sad. Anger is pointless and toxic when turned on myself. I haven't told anyone except Justin yet. I don't really want to make this a public thing, but I feel as if I need help. Even if it's just support and accountability. The reality is that I know I can't do it alone. It's going to take planning and preparation and a shit ton of house cleaning.

Maybe it's just as well that my editing jobs have slowed down. It may open up the time to work on the house. If I can get the house cleaned up, I can get the floor fixed. If I get the floor fixed, I'll be able to use my stove/oven again. If I can use them again, I can cook healthier meals. If I can cook healthier meals, it will help me to drop the weight and just get healthier. 

I have to go back and see my doctor in January. That's not a lot of time to get things in order, but I have to do what I can do. It's not going to be easy and I honestly expect that it's going to be a super big struggle, but if I did it before, I can do it again. I have to believe that, even when my brain says you're going to fail. That's exactly what my brain is screaming right now. You can't do this. It's too hard. You're going to remain fat and get sick and end up like Graham. Ugh. I do not want that to happen. I guess thank goodness he's pretty much shoved me out of his life. I'd hate for him to see that, but I need to be honest with myself. That's what's happening in my head.

So...I guess this weekend I add figure all this out to my list of things to do. I want to talk to Rob about it. I'd like to talk to Nick about it but come Tuesday it will be 10 weeks since I last heard from him. I've faced the fact that he's not there for me. He's not supporting me. Maybe I'll talk to Eric about it too. He's the only other person who knew about any of this. He actually wished me good luck at the appointment this morning. That was really nice. 

I don't want a huge support team, but I need a support team that I can rely on to support. And I guess that's that. I don't know what else to say about any of this other than it's stressing me out and it should be. I fucked up and I fucked up big time. Time to try to save myself because no one else can. 

Bonus Post: Birthday Anxiety

My birthday is in five days and I laid in bed this morning and cried over it. Why? Well, the basic reason is that I'm sure "the man" won't remember until Facebook reminds him and even then, he won't do anything more than text me Happy Birthday.

The deeper reason goes back a lot further. Some of you may know that my mother was abusive. I don't remember when it started, but I know that by the time I was in middle school, it was happening. She would get upset about something and scream at me. She would scream that she wished I'd never been born, that I ruined her life. Quite often this would come along with her slapping me repeatedly. Over the years, that has stuck with me like sap clinging to a pine tree.

So, ever year, when September rolls around, I start hearing her voice in my head. Except the message has changed slightly.  Now it's that nobody cares that I was born. Nobody cares enough to even go to the dollar store to get me a card and mail it out. It's not about the money, it's about the effort. Nobody loves me enough to make any effort.

People will point out how many Facebook comments I get that day wishing me a happy birthday. My brain will kick in and say, "Sure, but those take zero effort. You leave them for people all the time and it takes about two seconds of your life." To those people I'll smile and say "Yes, isn't it wonderful? So many people care."

It's getting better, I guess. It used to be the entire month. Last year it was the ten days leading up to my birthday. This year I made it to five days before my birthday. Except the next five days will be hell for me. I'll have a desperate urge to go and check the mailbox, even though I know there's nothing there. I'll look for UPS shipping notifications even though I know nobody has sent anything.

My birthday will be the worst because, in my head, it will be the day that yet again it is confirmed that I don't matter enough to anyone, not even the man I've been in a relationship with for five years, to make even the smallest of efforts. One year I received something like three cards and a friend had a cake delivered. It was the most amazing year, but the next year was a hard crash when none of those same people did it again. Still, for that one year, I felt loved and special and it was wonderful.

I've mentioned my birthday once or twice on Facebook, mostly because it sort of snuck up on me. I guess that's improvement. I've not shared an Amazon wish list even once (nobody has asked for one either). I've not posted any sort of countdown. I'm sure that people got tired of me mentioning it for an entire month...well, 23 days.

I've been asked if I have plans for my birthday and the answer is no. In the past, whenever I've made plans, the other people have cancelled them. Those were really tough blows for me and further proof to my brain that I didn't matter. I always hope someone will remember and invite me to visit or something, but that's never happened. I suppose I could buy myself a tiny cake and eat it, but doesn't that scream pathetic and nobody loves you?

No, it will be just another Wednesday. I'll be here, alone, working on a client's book. The only addition will be some tears as my mother's voice screams I told you so in my head.

When do you say goodbye?

I should be working. Instead, here I am again. I'm feeling really insecure today and I know why, no matter how much I want to ignore it. It's "the man." We've been together for over five years now. I've stood beside him as he fought for custody of his kids, decided if he wanted to stay married to his wife, and what feels like a thousand other things. I don't know though if he's stood by me. Honestly, I feel ignored and taken for granted. That's the problem when you love as hard as I do. People tend to figure out that you aren't going anywhere.

The first couple of years that we were together were great. We talked all the time either via text or email or sometimes both at the same time. At some point though, the emails stopped. Then, over time, the texts slowed down. He used to share ideas with me, send me pictures, and just be there whenever I needed him. I don't remember the last time he sent me a picture. I find out about his ideas via Facebook...and I don't remember the last time he told me that he loved me. He's never been one to say it frequently but I've never gone without being able to remember the last time. We used to fall asleep together, texting back and forth. Now he never texts me around that time unless it's every once in a great while to say goodnight. He used to always call me by a nickname that he had for me, now he never does. He used to tell me I'm beautiful, now he tells someone else.

It hurts. It hurts a lot. I realized that even when I ask him for something small...like a photo or a message, that he never does it. Twice in the past month he'd told me he'll send me photos "soon" or "soon enough." He hasn't.

The past few days he hasn't even responded to my texts really. I send him a lovely one yesterday morning and he ignored it. Last night, when he'd posted to Facebook that he was done writing, I sent him a message. His reponse? "Writing" ...except you just said you were done. I told him I'd leave him alone. I haven't messaged him since. He probably won't even notice if all day goes by and he doesn't hear from me.

It's so hard. When we're physically together, things are so good between us. We talk about things. When we're apart, I feel like he forgets about me.

Then, there's Rob. I'm so damn insecure with that. I don't know what he wants. I mean, he's made it kind of obvious that he wants to go back to how things were, but how can we? He destroyed me. Even today, when I told him that I'm feeling insecure, he didn't respond. I can't do that. I can't be intimate with someone who can't be there when I need someone to tell me that I'm wonderful and they love me. Of course as soon as I say he hasn't responded, he responds. Thirty seven minutes, but at least he knew he had to respond.

I don't know. The only thing that keeps me with "the man" is knowing how good we are together when we're together, but with covid, who knows when that might happen again. I just wish he'd tell me that he misses me at least. It's a stupid wish, but it's my wish. I could tell him that I need more from him, but I don't know what good it would do. He may just ignore that and then I'd feel even worse.

If I knew I had Rob to help balance things out, it'd be so much better. God, that sounds horrible, doesn't it? Except, in some ways, it really just is how I've come to work. I've long given up that I'll ever get married again. I don't know who could handle the semi-hoarding, the depression, the anxiety, all the time. I live with it and I annoy myself. Does that mean that deep down, locked away, there isn't a mad desire to have someone love me like that? Of course there is. All I've wanted my entire life is to be loved like that. I guess deep down I've never totally gotten over the idea that I don't deserve that.

Still, this past week it's become more and more clear to me what I want with Rob is the same thing that I wanted 15 months ago when all hell broke loose. It's not a "we're together when we're together" kind of thing, but a we're together because it makes us happy kind of thing. I want a partner...someone that is my safe spot, someone that I can do things with or do nothing with. I want not just a sexual partner, but an emotional one as well. I want someone who will tell me they love me and not just in the bedroom. I don't want to be a secret. I'm not saying we need to be "Facebook official" or even tell anyone about us, but if we're out, I want to be able to hold their hand. I want to sneak a kiss at the stoplight.

I don't want a husband. Not right now. I don't want to be physically with someone 24/7. I don't think it would be healthy for me or for another person. I'm not sure I can explain this properly, but I want to be with him when we can be, but when we're not, we're still okay and still us. We have lives of our own but those lives include each other. I don't need 24/7 communication, but I need open communication. I don't need to be "the" one, but I need to know that if someone else comes along, it won't mean that I'm kicked to the curb or left in the dark. Not again. I can't do that again.

In some ways, I've always seen us as two halves to a whole. We know each other and in the past, we were able to balance each other. Your soulmate doesn't have to be your lifemate. If we started with what we were before "the horror" but with what I thought we were when I last left him, that'd be amazing. If it moved on past that, well, that'd be what it'd be. I'm not going into anything with the hopes that it will turn into something more. I've spent too many years being alone and being told things could never be more in the relationships that I've been in. Like I said, I don't truly believe that I deserve that whole "happily ever after - white picket fences" thing. Most of the time I'm okay with that. I just want us to be okay, but okay together again.

Ugh. These are all things that I should just be telling him, but I'm afraid to. I'm afraid that he is going to tell me how he doesn't want another relationship after just ending such a toxic one. I mean, it's not like that's unreasonable, but we can't go back to what I thought we had before. I need more. I need reassurances. Most of all, I really need a freaking hug and to be told that it'll be all right.

Edit: Well, I asked him. I sent him a text asking what it was that he hoped for or wanted. His response? He doesn't know. He didn't know if I'd even answer him. He had just wanted to apologize and explain himself. He did that...August 31st. I guess after that it was just easy to fall into old habits...I think I'm going to go cry now and then fill out this paperwork that I forgot to do yesterday. It's better than hyperventilating my way into an asthma attack.

Weekly Update: Numb

Have you ever seen those commercials for Bipolar medication where they talk about how bipolar depression is different? That it can leave a person feeling numb? That's where I've spent most of the past week. Absolutely numb. I don't seem to feel joy, sadness, anything. I've either slept or laid on the couch watching tv. I've not been on social media...and the only ones to notice? My kids. Both have texted or called to see what's up. Nobody else has reached out. If I were feeling anything, that would bother me.

On Friday, I found out that my uncle died. The one that I actually liked until he broke his word to me. I know I should feel something, but I don't. Even if I could, I'd have mixed feelings. The one thing that broke through the numb was the anxiety of attending his funeral. I won't be going. I might send flowers. After all, I'm not a heartless bitch. Not that I owe any of them anything. I don't.

Have you ever wanted to smile but it felt wrong or unnatural? I'm dealing with that too. I watched react videos last night and I'd have these little tugs of smiles but they were mere flashes. They felt uncomfortable.

On top of everything, I ran out of grocery money two weeks ago. That's what I get for shopping like a normal person and not someone poor as hell. I managed to stretch things out until the end of the week but since then I've been eating one meal a day and mostly because I make myself go and pick something up. Subways 2 for 1 subs have come in handy. I'm spending money I shouldn't but it's that or starve. The grocery store is 15 miles away and I need gas in my car. Again, I feel like I should feel something about this...worry...something...but I don't. It's just four more days until I have grocery funds again. I had 3 oreos (found a package in my car that I forgot I bought for the boys) and some water for breakfast.

I should work today. I made a to do list yesterday, but the reality is that there's not much point. I'd end up redoing it all anyway. Honestly, just turning on my laptop felt like a big deal today. I don't really want to be behind it. I want to just lay down again. If my bladder didn't insist, I don't know that I'd get out of bed. I guess it's good that I have no desire to wet the bed...I care about that much.

Sleep is hard at night. My brain relives every bad thing that it can think of. They don't hurt...because I'm numb, but it's hard to sleep. The past couple of nights it's been how the three men that I've loved most in my life all moved on and are with other women. They're all happy. I'd think about the happy times and then the moments when they'd betrayed me. It's an ugly place inside my head. Maybe that's why I then sleep during the day...often until 4pm or later. I'm protecting myself from myself.

Anyway, I wish I had better things to say, but the reality is that I'm not sure why I'm writing this other than to force some normalcy into my world. Everything became just too much and I feel wrapped up in cotton wool...perhaps just trying to block out the outside world.

Weekly Update: Chaos

Holy crow, guys...this week has been crazy. Actually, the past 5 days or so. It started on Friday when I stopped at the mailbox to pick up the mail and discovered a notice from the county about past taxes being due and language such as foreclosure and forfeitsure. Since I rent, this sent me into a tizzy. Of course, it was Friday night and Monday was President's Day so nobody could be reached until this morning. Thankfully, the owners had also received a notification and are paying off the bill. They assured me that they won't sell the house out from under me and I can have it for at least a couple more years if I'd like. That's a huge relief. I can focus on downsizing and dehoarding instead of worrying.

As if that wasn't stressful enough though, last night Ben had a basketball game about an hour away. While we were there, it started snowing and by the time I left to head home, the roads were horrible. I was white knuckle driving the entire way home. A chunk of the trip is on the freeway and while we were going slow for the freeway (about 45mph), that didn't stop me from sliding right off when I tapped my break because the person in front of me slowed down. I got lucky. I didn't hit one of the drop offs or a guard rail. I managed to come to a stop just onto the grass and after a few very deep breathes and a small pep talk, I pulled back onto the road. I've rarely been so happy to see my driveway and hear the gps say welcome home in my life.

I could use a few days of low key. It's a busy week though with attending basketball games with Ben and then him, Dylan, and I are driving to South Bend on Saturday to watch Roger perform at Notre Dame with his jazz orchestra. It should be fun, but teenagers can be seriously challenging at times. I'm hoping this isn't one of those times...heh...

Once I get back, it's a bit more basketball while trying to prep to attend C2E2 in Chicago at the end of the week. I have a packing list and I'm slowly trying to collect things up, but it's going to be a hectic week of trying to get the usual things done and prep work. It's been a number of years since I attended this huge event, and I know that my body isn't ready for it, but I'm going to give it a shot anyway. It's much easier to network if I leave the house sometimes.

In news of other note, I've upped my medication to a full dosage from the half dose that I've been on for the past six months or so. It was time and I think that it's only due to that increase that I haven't had a complete meltdown over everything. In fact, I've stayed relatively calm (for me anyway) and not spiraled. I'll take it.

Now, I'm off to build a small Lego cat as a reward for writing my posts and being a good girl. Have a great week!

Weekly Update: Holiday Blahs

That little egg may be on the slightly dramatic side for this post. After all, I'm not sitting around all the time in tears, just now and then. Right now? No tears, just tired.

I did realize the other day though that the holiday blahs have set in early for me this year. With no money to even buy food, let alone anything else, I've become overwhelmed. Overwhelmed leads to anxiety which leads to depression which leads to a not so very holly jolly me.

On top of that, I won't be seeing my boys over Thanksgiving and I don't know if I'll even see them over their winter break except for maybe a day. Roger has hopes of doing some work at his dad's office which means him staying over there. Ben will be working. This leaves this mom all alone and that's bringing me down as well.

I'm not sure how to shake this overwhelmed feeling. Maybe if I could, I could continue to dig out the house or at least something productive. It needs a lot of work though if you break it down, it's not so bad. I was thinking about cleaning in my room today, but there's a good chance I'd just climb back into bed. I haven't been sleeping all that well which just adds to the muckity muck.

I'm also questioning if I ought to continue writing here. I started a weekly post because I thought it might help me and others, but I'm seeing that there aren't many others reading. I think if there's at least one person reading, one person who might feel a little less alone, I'll keep going though. It does help me to brain purge. Some things are better out of the brain than floating around endlessly inside.

Well, I guess that was a short questioning session, eh? I like when that happens. I hate feeling wishy washy, like I can't make a decision. It's nice when I can be decisive and then move on to something else.

What's that something else? Well, that's a darned good question. How about we end this post with 3 positives? It's good to focus on the good now and then.

1. I'm only 1800 words from finishing NaNoWriMo and most of those words came from projects that will be published.

2. I'm alive. I may be scary levels of broke and unsure how I'm going to feed myself, let alone kids if they come over, but I'm alive.

3. The boys are all doing well. Ben has a cold, but otherwise, they're all doing well and being successful in their areas.

And that's all for this week, guys. If I let myself, I'd write for ages and ages but nobody wants to read all of that! As always, take care of yourselves and each other.

Weekly Update: Tired

Holy crow, y'all. I'm tired. That's the only way to describe how I feel right now. It's the kind of tired that affects everything. I'm hyper aware of what's happening around me. I'm super duper emotional. It sucks. Oh my god, it sucks so much.

I'm actually at a NaNo write in right now, writing this. I know, it's not a novel, but it's words and words count. I needed to do this today because tomorrow I'm picking up the oldest and taking him to pretty much finish up his holiday shopping. Yeah, I know. He's like done. It's crazy. As for me, I don't even know if we'll have a Christmas at my house this year. I've had zero projects come in and that means zero income. Zero income equals zero spending money for presents.

I know that it's really about time together and all of that, but it doesn't stop me from wanting to have things for my kids. They're still teenagers, not grown ups. I don't know yet what I'll do. I keep hoping that something will come through. I'm not giving up all hope.

Did I mention I'm tired? heh...Yep, that just popped into my head again. I am worn the heck out. I'm now on day 26 of a heavy period. How heavy? A week ago I bought a package of pads that advertised it was a 3.5 month supply. I'm stopping by the store tonight to buy more. Yeah...that heavy. Gross, huh? Super gross. I love being a girl, but right now, I don't love having a uterus that's acting cuckoo for cocoa puffs.

That's another side effect of all of this. I have a constant desire to eat. That's not helpful when you need to lose weight, DHS has cut you back to $16 in grocery money each month, and you have a kid coming over that you need to feed. Yep. Yippee!

The odd thing? Even with all of this going on, I'm in good spirits for the most part. Sure, I have moments where I break down crying, but if you look at my mood journal, you'd see mostly average days. Average is good. I like average.

Somehow we'll get through this rough patch. I always do. I have zero idea how this time, but hey, that's okay...that's life, right?

Now, back to proofing my children's anthology! I'm still waiting for Nick to send me the notes to Nevermore so I'm not sure what the timeline is for that. I had kind of hoped by the end of the year, but that's looking very unlikely. If I can manage to track him down, that's something else to talk to him about. Somehow I'm suspecting it's not his top priority project. Ahh well...the life of a writer is so glamorous, eh?

Time to focus on what I can focus on and keep going.
Love you all!

Weekly Update: NaNo!

I can't believe that it's November again. A year ago, I was shivering in my car waiting for Roger to get out of sax lessons. Today I was talking to him about college and how he has a concert on Friday. (Note to self: Don't forget to get your ticket!) A lot has changed over the past year. I've changed over the past year.

NaNo has not changed over the past year. It's still 50,000 words in 30 days. What's changed for me is my focus. A week ago, my focu was to finish Nevermore, the novel that I started writing nearly two years ago. Yesterday, on day 3 of NaNo, I finished it. That's right. After nearly 2 years, I finished writing my very first novel. That's pretty huge, right?

It was a moment of excitement and the sadness as I realized that I couldn't share that with the man. It was the first thing that I wanted to do. I messaged him, but he was too busy to open messages and so, in the end, I posted it to Instagram and shared it to Facebook. Some people on Facebook liked the post which made me feel good, but really what I wanted was a celebration. I wanted people to comment acknowledging how big of a deal this was to me. Nobody really did, but maybe they don't realize just how huge this is.

But, I did it. The girl who they said would never be anything or do anything wrote a novel all by herself and damn it, I'm proud of that. I'm going to say it again... I wrote a book and damn it, I'm proud of that. I did it. Me.

Now that it's done and off to be double checked before revisions, I'm going to be working on writing some children's stories. I used to love telling the boys stories at bedtime and who knows, maybe someday they'll read these stories to my grandkids. No time soon though! We'll let others read them first.

For now though, it's time to flip the laundry and take some deep breaths because life can be overwhelming sometimes.

PS Two weeks of a period is two weeks too many...talk about overwhelming!

Weekly Update: Befuddled Brain

Normally I would spend ages looking for just the right graphic to go with this post, but today, I honestly just don't feel like it. Maybe I'm tired or maybe I'm in a little bit of a slump. Maybe I noticed that almost nobody reads these posts. It could be one or all. I just know that I can't write a brilliant post today and I'm disappointed in myself for that. The truth is though that I'm having a tough time remember what all I'm even supposed to do today.

It's been a good couple of weeks so this is probably pretty much par for the course. I could also have some bonus hormones happening. Clearly I'm not a medical professional...lol! Anyway, I'm going to do a quick weekly update and then get back to work....because I do know that there's work waiting on me.

This past week has been good. There was a lot of frustration and some anxiety as my car started having issues (yes, again...) and all three of my children kept changing the plans for the weekend. In the end, we sorted it out and I think everyone had a good weekend. I'm a bit concerned for Rog because he's talking about having intermittent hearing loss in his one ear and I'm hoping he isn't falling behind in any of his classes.

The house is coming along. I'd put the bedroom at about 60%. I've cleared out both closets now and started putting some stuff away in them. I have another four bags for Goodwill. That will put us at 13 bags donated. I can't believe how much stuff we've been hauling out of this house. I'm pretty sure we could double that before we're done. On top of that, I have realized that I need to downsize my book collection so I think I'm going to have a sale on Facebook, both on my personal page and my fan page. I'm thinking $1 a book with possible discounts on bulk purchases. Cookbooks will be priced slightly higher.  It's going to be a slow sale simply because I'm going to start adding things to a folder and add as I find more. I'm also going to throw DVDs into there too. I really could use the money to buy a new stove/oven. So, it's a double bonus if people buy them. Fingers crossed!

For now though, I think I'm going to make some lunch, stretch a bit, and then get a story proofread for a client. Have I mentioned how much I love my job? Because I honest to goodness love my job.

Ch..Ch...Ch...Changes

Another month has flown by and I can't even tell you where it went. February in Michigan has been brutal with things like polar vortexes, icemageddons, and then a bomb cyclone. There was a lot of drama involving me attempting to get a fridge back into my house and a lot of time just being mom.

Now here we are, the last day before the end of the month and life hasn't slowed down even slightly. As I'm writing this, I'm sitting at a jazz orchestra rehearsal. My youngest son has been a part of this audition only group for two years so for two years, I've lost about 8 hours each day getting him here and back...as well as the rehearsal time. He loves it and I love sitting in, even if it takes away from other things I could be...and maybe should be doing.

So, here we are and I'm trying to sort through the stuff in my head. Thank goodness I have all of you to talk to about things! It really does help me work through them.

Yesterday, I had a doctor's appointment. Nope, let's back up. On Monday, I took myself off to a hotel for an overnight stay. My water heater has decided it doesn't like hot water anymore and with the appointment coming up, I needed a night away and a long, hot shower. Best decision I've made in a while. Thank goodness for tiny tax returns which let me do that. I got to relax and rest up which I badly needed.

Then, yesterday, I went to see a plastic surgeon. If you know me, you know I have huge boobs. You'll also know that I'd rather not, but I'd never have plastic surgery for vanity's sake. They're causing me issues. My collar bone hurts a lot of the time. I never have straight shoulders. I'm always hunched over because of them. Boobs weigh a lot, guys. So, after my doctor asking me about it for over five years, I decided it was time. It took me almost 5 months to get this appointment.

The doctor was super nice, but basically laid it out that if I want to lose weight, I need to do it pre-surgery. If I do the surgery first and then lose the weight, the boobs will sag, and he doesn't think I'd be happy with them. The reality is that they beyond sag now and they're not close to symmetrical. Still, if I'm going to go through all of this, I do want to look down and be happy afterwards.

I left the appointment and sat in my car and cried. I wasn't hurt or upset by anything that he said. He couldn't have been nicer. He told me that if I wanted to go ahead now, he would do the full exam and proceed. He also suggested, that if I wanted, I could come back in six months and we could reevaluate everything. That would give me time to work on losing weight if that's what I wanted to do. If, at that point, I didn't feel I was where I wanted to be yet, we could put it off another three to six months.

I sat and cried because I'm so angry with myself that I've allowed everything to overwhelm me to the point where I've gotten to the weight I am. I'm frustrated because I've dug myself into this deep hole between my health, weight, and house. I'm overwhelmed. I look around and don't know quite how to dig myself out. On top of everything, DHS took my projected income form for this year (which they required me to predict and which I am nowhere near making at this point) and cut my food stamps down to less than $300 a month for three of us. Luckily, Ben is off at school and Roger is busy with school and work and music, so isn't at my house all of the time.

Still, I have no idea how to feed even just me in a super healthy way with that amount of money. I'm sure it's not impossible and I'll just have to be incredibly careful about what I do buy. I'll have to tightly meal plan and stick with it.

I want to do this. I know I can do this. I'm also completely overwhelmed. I don't really know where to start. No, that's not true either! I'm full of arguing with myself tonight. I guess here's the tiny baby plan as much as it is:

1. Start logging calories using My Fitness Pal. Not so much trying to keep within what it's saying but logging so I can see where the problems may be.
2. Take the last bit of my tax return and order some glass water bottles for the fridge. I may not have hot water, but I do have water and a filter for the kitchen tap. This will allow me to not have to buy water and save a bit of money there while at the same time having a healthy drink option in the house.
3. Start talking with my tiny Facebook weight loss group about things. Support is super important.
4. Continue taking my medication. Last night I started back on a half dose of my anti-depressant and a full dose of my blood pressure medication.

Hmm...I guess it really is a tiny baby plan. That's all I've got right now.  I have six months to see how far I can get. I'm stuck without much exercise right now because I can't safely get out of the house and walk, but maybe in another month or two I can add that in. I do have a Fitbit, even if the rubber band causes my skin to react. Perhaps for my birthday (in 6 months), I can ask for a leather band for it to help alleviate that problem. If I can make some changes around the house, maybe I can start walking from one side to the other...I figure it'll only take a few hundred trips to make a mile..heh...

For now though, it's one baby step at a time. If anyone knows of some low impact exercises I can do at home that don't require a lot of space, please let me know! I'm still getting over a sprained ankle and what I suspect is a pinched nerve in my elbow, but I'm willing to try new things.

Take care of all of you!

Current Weight: 313.5
Goal Weight: A lot less ...like 150 pounds less.
Days in a row taking meds: 1

Riding the Edge

Link to book below post.

It's been a while. I know. Maybe I'm writing just to myself. It's possible and that's okay. I'm here today because I need to be here. I need to lay everything out and maybe it will start coming together for me.

It's been about two weeks now since we dropped Ben off at school. I always knew that I'd be one of those moms who cried when she did that. I wasn't wrong. Walking away from him broke my heart. He was crying and trying to be so brave. We both knew it was the right decision, but in that moment, I think we both just wanted to go home. He has done really well though. I think the independence while knowing we're only a little ways away has been good for him.

Meanwhile, his brother is going through college auditions and about to turn 18 in just a couple of days. I'm struggling with that too. I so badly want for him to get into the school that he really wants. I want what I never had, a chance to follow his dreams.

Here at home things could be going better. The fridge broke last weekend and it's taken me a week to get it just about cleaned out. I have one more bag to go and it'll only be a small bag...like grocery bag size. The rest of the house is a total tip because I just can't seem to find the balance of home, work, kids, mental health, and everything else. I had a trip planned to a convention in March. I may have written about it. I was so proud to be granted a pro badge. Now, because of the fridge, I won't be going. The money for my plane ticket has to go to getting a fridge. I mean, we can't live on crackers and crunch n munch forever, right?

I keep trying to find the bright spots...like hey, now I really will be able to get a fresh start on food. Then, the voice pops into my head reminding me that my foodstamps were cut because of Ben working. For every positive voice, there are five negative ones drowning it out. Even my sense of humor that usually gets me through these spots is eerily quiet. Perhaps it's because I posted asking people to help and nobody answered. Meanwhile, the wife of one of my closest posted a $2000 fundraiser to get her dog's broken leg sorted and they've raised nearly $1500, I think. Look, I know I can live without a fridge and the pup's leg really needs to be cared for but it's the perfect thing for the negatives to latch onto. It's easy for them to say...hey look, you don't matter. Nobody wants to help you.

I look around and think how alone it makes me feel, that nobody will send me $5 but they'll send someone else art supplies so they can do a bullet journal. I don't know. I know I'm feeling sorry for myself and that it won't help anything, but I'm really struggling to shut it down. Do you know what's the worst part maybe? It's that voice...the one that sounds suspiciously like my mother...saying that I'm whining, that none of this matters, that my feelings don't matter, and that I'm being the weak, useless person that she always knew I was.

That's bullshit. It really is. I am stronger than she ever knew. I've gone through more than a lot and I've survived. I'm still surviving. Is it ideal? Hell no. It's pretty crappy actually, but I'm still here. So...here's the thing...I'm going to put this out there. I need to put it out somewhere...and here is as good as anywhere, perhaps better...because on some level, it's safe. Nobody will read this here.

I'm broke. Hell, I'm beyond broke. If it weren't for a good friend helping me out, I'd be sleeping on a park bench somewhere. The fridge broke and while it will get replaced, knowing that part of the hold up is the fact that my kitchen is beyond ugh is dragging me down. I can hear people saying, "Well why don't you just clean it up? Then you could have a new to you fridge and it'd be better." Except, it's ever quite that easy, is it? I've managed to slowly empty the fridge but every time I look at the dining alcove, I freeze. I can't seem to do a thing about it. Honestly, I could probably put a trash bag into the can (which is also busted, by the way), grab the snow shovel, and just shovel it all away...and weep with every scoop because all of that...it's like seeing a million failures right in front of my eyes. It's every negative screaming at me and it leaves me frozen. I had someone who was going to come help me, someone who tries very hard to understand, and doesn't judge me, but first it was car trouble, then weather...and so I'm on my own...and I'm afraid that my own just isn't good enough.

And only getting colder!

Then, there's the weather. Winter in Michigan can really suck but up until a week or so ago, it wasn't bad and I was really thankful for that. Why? The furnace decided to stop working. I can hear the voices again.. "Just call the landlord and get her to fix or replace it for you." Except...I can't. We all know that I can't. If I can't get strangers in to haul away a busted fridge and put a different one in because of the condition of things, there's no way that I can get someone who will report back to the landlord. To fix the furnace, the kitchen, living room, and laundry room have to be cleaned from top to bottom. It feels impossible...and we're about to go into a week of possibly record breaking cold. I have a small space heater and the oven running 24/7 when I'm home. Right now, it's 61 in here. I can live with that. This week? I don't know how cold it might get in here. I'll be having to go out quite a bit which is good and bad. Good because the car's heat works and I'll be going heated places. Bad because I'll have to turn everything off and the house temp drops fast. I've seen it drop 5-7 degrees in just a couple of hours.

I guess you can probably see where this is going right? I need money and I need it like yesterday. I don't have it because the reality is that with my mental health issues, I can't work outside of the house. I got a letter from DHS yesterday saying that I have to either start working 80 hours a month or volunteering 80 hours a month or taking some kind of classes. I do work. I proofread and edit books and stories for other people. I don't make $600/mo doing it though and that's how much I have to make to keep them off my back. I'm good at what I do and my clients are happy, but I don't have 20 comic clients putting out a book each month. Comics and books take time to create. As for my own books, I haven't received a single royalty payment in almost two years. I don't know if the books aren't selling at all or just not enough to bother sending me the change.

I've considered setting up a Patreon where for $5/mo, you could get early viewing on a story that will later go into an anthology. I'd do two different ones...one for children's stories and one for erotica. I have a Ko-Fi now. Actually, I've had it for months and months but not one single person has ever used it. I get it. People want to get something for their money, which is why I think maybe Patreon might be a better choice. I don't know that people would sign up there either though.

That wouldn't be enough, but it would be something. I talked to one of my clients today and he told me that he would have 5-10 books for me in 2019. At the rate he pays me, that's either not even one month or possibly 2.5 in an entire year. Clearly that won't work. I love his books and working with him and I'm not going to stop. I'm just saying that it isn't enough to get to where I need to be. I either need to be doing 4-6 books a month proofreading or some combination of things...proofreading novels, proofreading comics, Patreon, Ko-Fi...my own books starting to bring in some funds.

I do have a plan to take down my erotica stories that are also listed with the other ones in their series and then properly format the series and put those up on Amazon. There's no reason to have the individual smaller ones up by themselves. I'm planning on listing the series ones at 99c. They aren't long, more like a bedtime story but I hope worth the 99c. They won't make me millions but even $10/mo would help.

There is one other option and it's one that I'm going to have to do and hope that it goes well. I have the opportunity to apply for a ghostwriter's position. If I got it, I'd be writing mm romance/erotica of various types. It pays pretty well and with one thing would fix this problem. Here are the voices again, "If you knew it would solve this, why haven't you done it? Oh wait, because you're probably going to fail and then what?" Ugh. It's not just that. I could fail. I could fail and then still be screwed. Or, I could be decent at it, get hired, and then with my struggles to balance everything, it could end up being the only thing I do. 2019 was supposed to be the year of finally defeating the hoarding monster and setting myself up for success in 2020. Here we are, less than a month in, and that's already going out the window and I don't know what to do about it.

So, there you go...I'm riding the edge. I'm riding the edge of just wanting to give up and wanting to fight for what it is that I truly want. I'm riding the edge of do I fight for my dreams or do I continue to settle and make do with what I *have* to do.  I'm really tired of settling or making do with what I have. This isn't the life that I want for myself. I want to write and I want to be successful at it. I want to help other authors make their books be as good as they can be before they're sent out into the world. I love what I do and I want to keep doing it. I don't know how, but even if I do this ghostwriting thing...and I don't see how I can not do it...I need to keep finding me. I can't lose myself in the horror that is poverty.

I don't know if people will help me and support me. I don't know if they'll follow me on Patreon or donate to me on Ko-Fi. I don't know if they'll go and spend 99c on an erotica story. I don't know, if I get that far, if they'll back me on Kickstarter. I honestly don't know. I've been burned quite a bit by people who say they'll hire me and then don't or industry people who say they'll start sending business my way but then don't...or worse, keep it for themselves. I do know though that there are a lot of people out there and I don't need a million, or even a thousand. I need just enough to bring in maybe $1000/mo for now. Why $1000 and not $600? Because it's time to stop making just enough and time to start making enough that I can invest back in myself, in my home, and in my future.

$1000 = 34 comic book proofreadings
$1000 = 5 50k word book proofreadings
$1000 = 200 Patreon supporters
$1000 = 225,000 words proofread
$1000 = 334 cups of coffee purchased through Ko-Fi

That seems like an awful lot, doesn't it? It's not impossible though, especially if there was a small income from my writing coming in as well. I really, really, really want to get the erotica stuff already on Amazon updated. I desperately want to get Nevermore finished and sent off to Nick. I want to get my publishing house name chosen and Tales from the Toy Store written and published. I have dreams. I need to make them happen.

I hope that I have the support to make them happen. I hope that people will recommend me when they hear of someone looking. I hope that when editor/proofreader friends have overflow, they'll send
it to me. I hope that people will enjoy my writing and be willing to buy it. I have a lot of hope and at the end of the day, that's really darned important.

Today, though I feel as if I'm standing on a crumbling foundation, though it'd be so easy to just quit, I'm choosing hope and I hope (see what I did there?) that all of you will stick with me through this never ending journey of ups and downs. It's a rocky path, but it's a path. If by some small chance you want to buy a book or buy me a cup of coffee to help keep me going, I've added links above. If not, that's okay. I just hope that you got something out of me doing a total brain/emotion dump out here. I know this post was really for me, but I always hope that there's someone out there who reads it and says, "Hey, yeah, I get this and maybe for this minute, I, too, can choose hope."

The book in the image above was found via a random Google image search and something about it spoke to me. It appears to be out of print, but if you're interested in learning more about it, check out its Amazon page.

Fighting to Keep Fighting

Guys, I'm tired. No, it's more than that. I'm done. I'm out of whatever it is that keeps us going. Today it took everything I had to get out of bed, to go to the bathroom, and to nuke a frozen pizza. I wish that were an exaggeration and maybe it is since I'm sitting here writing and that has to take something too.

It's been a long time since I went from "Yeah, I'm doing okay." to "I am the most worthless human being on the planet." in the space of maybe an hour, but that's just what's happened.

Yesterday, when I left my house, I was proud of myself. I'd gotten quite a bit of work done on a project for a client, I'd shaved my face (thanks pcos) and my armpits, I'd put on deodorant, gotten dressed, brushed my teeth, fed the outside cat, brought the trash can back up to the house...I'd done all of that. I was proud of me.  I picked up my oldest, we stopped into the dollar store, and then on to the high school basketball games.

We sat through the first two games and my oldest got up to go say hi to some friends and was stopped by a teacher. I don't know the exact conversation but it basically boiled down to how the teacher had noticed we hadn't paid to get in and while it was okay for my son not to pay, it wasn't okay for me. I got the impression that it wasn't said nicely. Honestly, it was an accidental oversight. While he was in school, we never paid to get into the games. He was the team manager/filmographer and since he's handicapped and needs a ride everywhere, they always just let me in for free too. Out of habit, we came in the way we always had and they don't have a ticket seller at that entrance. My son was upset which made me upset. Still, I tried to keep it together because if I don't, he doesn't.

From there, it went downhill. I discovered that my front headlight is burnt out. I'm sure it's just the bulb. Then, as I was driving home after dropping my son off, and realizing that there's no way I can afford to have it replaced right now and now I'm super anxious because I could get pulled over and there's even less of a way for me to pay for a ticket, I realized that my insurance is coming out on Friday and I'm $101 short. With the chaos of this month, it just completely went out of my head to make sure that I had enough money in the account. I had the money in another account and used it to pick up some extra items that we needed. I just didn't remember.

I felt stupid and stupid led to feeling like a failure which led to feeling pointless. It's not that I don't try, but I never succeed. I want to be better, but I just keep failing. I swear I'm trying and it's been better, I think...or I thought. Now, because of this one thing, I just don't know. I feel like I've failed everyone. I can't seem to handle the basics of life sometimes..most of the time...How can I ever hope to get to the point where I'm off welfare and have a sustainable lifestyle if I can't even remember to brush my teeth every day?

I cried myself to sleep last night and today all I can do is sit here and cry. I've failed again. I've let myself and everyone down because I couldn't remember something so simple as making sure I had the funds to pay a bill that I have to pay every single month. There's more but there's no point in spewing it out here. I'm sorry for being such a failure at life....

Safe Places Are Hard To Find

If you're someone who has social anxiety, depression, anxiety, PTSD, been raped and any other number of things that leaves you needing a safe place sometimes, you also know that sometimes it can be really hard to find them.

Over the years, I've had a few different ones ...my friend Dave's house in Vermont, until he got married and now it wasn't just him there. My friend Rob's place in Canada...until he had to deal with some life stuff of his own. I could list more but even just with two, you get the idea. Except, I'm going to list one more because really this last one is what this post is all about.

Now stick with me here...I know what I'm about to say is going to sound...well, crazy...but I promise you that it isn't. Comic conventions. Comic conventions have been my safe place for years. They're often filled with people that I know, like, and respect. Some of them I'd even consider to be friends. They're also full of strangers, but usually strangers who love the same things that I love and sometimes, I feel safe in a space full of people I don't know. Because of the nature of the event, I can get lost in a crowd. There's no pressure to be "on" or "happy" or anything. I can just be. If I need a break, I can find a corner and sit and watch the people. I love to watch people.

Over the years, I've met a lot of people at shows. Some I've enjoyed, some I've been glad to avoid later. That's just the way of life and personalities. Unfortunately, one of those that I've met and enjoyed has been revealed to be a rather horrible human being.  It's come out that he's treated women rather horribly. He's pressured them into doing things that they didn't really want to do. He's used his position within not only a place that he used to work, but also his position within the industry to lure women in and then mistreat them. I don't mean that he beat them, but sometimes the scars of emotional abuse and sexual misconduct (not the right phrase, but this is so hard to write that I can't let myself get hung up on phrasing right now) outlast bruises and broken bones.

As a woman, learning of his behavior upset me. It ought to upset everyone. But, under all of that was a feeling of deep unease and I've had a tough time figuring out why until last night. I was reading through a post written by someone calling out this man and supporting the art crew that had been working with him on a very popular title. The art crew chose to walk away from the book because they refuse to reward his heinous behavior. I applaud them for that and their actions led to the post I was reading. The more that I read, the more I found myself feeling uneasy, unhappy, and I hate to use the word...but triggered.

It got to the point where I had to shut down my laptop and step away. It took me a while, but I finally figured out what was causing it. I've known this man from the convention circuit for as long as I've known him. Conventions were/are a safe place and now he might be there. Granted, I'm not the type of woman that has ever had a real problem with sexual harassment or come ons...I'm just not the skinny, beautiful type. I've never had a problem with him approaching me this way and I doubt I ever would. Still, now that I know what's lurking in the dark, it's made me edgy whenever I think about the one that I'm supposed to go to in March. I was looking forward to possibly seeing him there. I was excited about going. I was insanely excited. Now? Now, I'm afraid. I'm afraid of what's in the shadows. I'm afraid knowing that I'll be traveling in and out of the area every day on a lightrail for an hour. Before, I was excited for that very same travel. It's always been a place to people watch and to meet new people.

My reality is that he's made a safe place feel not so safe. My reality is that I don't know if I want to go now. My brain has gone into "What if..." mode.  An event that I was so excited and proud (I was awarded a pro level badge this year which is a huge deal to me.) to be attending now has me wondering if anyone would notice if I just stayed home. I'm sad. I'm sad for me. I'm sad for every single woman that he has ever been in contact with. I'm sad for the industry because he's left another dark mark on what's beautiful.

Do you know what else I am? I'm angry. I'm angry that he's done this to me and to others. I'm angry that a grown ass man doesn't know that this is beyond wrong. I'm angry that I'm feeling as vulnerable and weak as I am. Anger is good. Anger is cleansing. Anger keeps me moving forward when I want to hide under the blankets.

I'm also proud. I'm proud of the woman who stood up and told her story. I don't know that I ever have. I'm proud of the industry professionals who have said no more. We will not tolerate this in our midst. I'm proud of the store where a lot of this story took place because they've declared that not only will they no longer stock anything that he's worked on, they're working with this woman to build policies so that nothing like this ever happens again. I'm proud of "my people".  Those are the people that I'm going to be looking towards as I work towards this trip because those are the people that I want to be around.

So Many Things

So Many Things

Get ready for a very real post. Not to say that any of my posts are fake but this one is pure free writing and there's a chance more could come out then I'm planning. I guess we'll find out together!

A couple of months ago, I wrote about how things had to change for me and for my weight. Tonight, I ate oreos for dinner. Not an entire row or anything, but enough. Why? A combination of reasons:

1. I don't have any money to go and buy groceries before at least Wednesday. That leaves me with whatever is on hand and the two bag meals that are in my freezer to eat.
2. I'm overwhelmed and the thought of attempting to put together anything that isn't an open and eat it package has me hiding.

Why am I so overwhelmed? Let me count the ways....So Many Things...

My house is at hoarder status and I have a furnace that doesn't work. While we don't need it yet, we will soon and due to the condition of the house, I cannot let the landlord know so they can get someone out to fix it. 

In an attempt to help with this, I spent 5 hours tackling a major portion of our living room the other day. Since then, I've been coughing up a storm. I can only assume that I inhaled way too much dust. I pretty much have to wait it out, but it's holding me up from getting down on the floor to tackle the next section. It also makes it hard to sleep which leads me to...

I haven't slept well in about 3.5 weeks because late on August 21st, I got a phone call that my youngest son had been in a car accident. He walked away with just bumps and bruises after his suv rolled, but seeing the accident scene and knowing how easily I could have lost him has been a serious ptsd trigger for me. I have trouble getting to sleep before the early hours of the morning and then my body just wants to sleep all day to make up for it. It's slowly improving but it's led to the fact that...

I'm falling further and further behind on things. I currently have 7 books waiting for proofreading and I'm about 3-6 months behind on the last book on The Tether Saga. The only bonus, if you want to consider it that, is that the co-author of the first two books and the man that owns all of the rights to this series hasn't spoken to me in about six weeks. In fact, I'm fairly certain that he has me muted on FB messenger which is where he wants to communicate. This has added another level of stress to things as it makes me feel as if everything is up in the air regarding that.

Also, since I haven't made any money off of any of the three Tether books that I've already worked on/written, money is a bit of an issue. Well, let's face it, money has always been an issue. I gave up on the idea of working outside of the house due to my own health issues (mental and other) as well as my boys needing me to be available. We get by due to the generosity of a friend who helps me cover things...but suddenly there are more things than usual and it's freaking me out. My current list of things I need money for?

• Photos of the boys from the photographer who shoots sporting events at the school. He has amazing shots of them and due to their dad no longer doing school photos, I really want these to help record all of the awesome things they've worked so hard at for the past 4 years. (Cost for all of them? About $100)
• Bills (duh, right?)
• Cover for my Kindle that the boys went together to buy me before the screen gets ruined.
• Trash bags...a lot of trash bags...
• Roger's orchestra fees ...they more than doubled this year and this is a program that he needs to be in. (Cost including all the gas to get him there and back? $1000)

There are other things, like NaNo coming up with classes next month. The classes and then write ins are free, but they're 45 minutes away and at a restaurant...so gas and food. If I dwell on this, I can think of more things...but let's move on...

To what, you ask? Well, that's the problem. I'm so overwhelmed and I'm so frustrated that I'm overwhelmed. I feel as if all I ever do here is write about negative things. I don't think I'm a negative person, but you'd never guess that here, would you? I feel like I need to apologize to all of you for not being this uplifting beacon of hope. I wish that I were, but right now, it feels as if the universe is squashing me.  

When I decided to start tackling my weight issues, things seemed so much more even keel. Then, I decided to face my fears and start tackling my dental issues. Now, I'm sinking but still trying to be all brave with things. I have yet another dental appointment tomorrow morning. This is my 4th in less than 2 months. It sucks but I'm more afraid that if I don't go, I'll never get those problems fixed. As for the rest of it? I just don't know...

I've spent hours trying to figure out a way to make everything better, to make it easier. I've thought about walking away from social media and blogging until I get things under control, but it gets mighty lonely living in the boondocks without any friends. So, I threw that idea out. What I really need to do is clear my plate, but that's tough when some things just need to all be done at once. I can't not do the dental stuff, I can't not work on the house, I can't not get the proofreading done...Those all have to be done right now. I've considered taking a week at a time to dedicate to each of these things..well, not the dental work. Can you imagine going to the dentist every day for a week? That'll cause nightmares...

My current thought? 

Daily "themes"....

Monday - Site work...this has been this way for a few years and I need to keep this routine.

Tuesday - Proofreading before I have to drive the youngest 90 minutes for his sax lesson.

Wednesday - House, focusing first on the living room, then the bathroom, kitchen, laundry room, and studio.

Thursday - Proofreading

Friday - Combination day of light house/football/review work

Saturday - Day of rest (plus things like marching band competitions for the next month)

Sunday - Planning for coming week

Do you notice what isn't anywhere on this schedule? Writing. For the time being, the book has to be on the back burner. I'm not happy about this, but if I want to get through the rest, I don't have much of a choice. If any of you here are fans of the series, I pray that you can be patient. I promise that I will get back to it as soon as possible. The latest? November for NaNo. I'm not starting something new until this is totally finished. 

I suppose the real question is...will this work? The answer? I have no idea. All I can do is try. I can keep trying to be in bed trying to sleep by 2 am and work that back. I can keep sitting and just breathing when it would be easier to have a meltdown. I can appreciate every single moment that I have with both of my boys and not feel guilty when I put everything else to the side to watch tv with them. I can help my youngest make final decisions as to what colleges he's about to apply to. I can do my best to just keep going. 

It may be one day at a time, one hour at a time, or one breath at a time...but I'm going to do my best to just keep going. Somehow, I will handle so many things.

Sick of Being Sick

 I've lost track of how much I've said this lately.

I know that I told y'all that I was going to get my act together and start posting weight updates weekly here. I have totally failed at that and I feel an incredible amount of guilt for letting not just you, but me down too. The problem is that my body is letting me down right, left, and center.

Where to start? I know that I posted about going to the dentist last month. The end of June? Anyway, on July 6th, I went and had my first two extractions done. Thanks to the nitrous, I survived. After, I had to go to Walmart.  Why? Because due to laws, they can't give you pain med prescriptions in advance. I'll let you imagine how pleasant of an experience it was to sit there for an hour, starting to drool blood, and waiting for this prescription. Knowing that people were judging me either for how I looked or for the reason why once I explained it to them. I know it shouldn't matter, but when you're already drained emotionally from the process that got you there, it's hard.

The recovery wasn't tragic, but I certainly didn't feel good. Then, just when I was starting to eat real food again and my stomach was starting to recover from the minimal food/motrin combination, I developed another infection. They don't want to bother with an antibiotic, they just want to move up the date to extract the rest of my bad teeth. So, I've been sick with that for over a week now. Low grade fevers, things not tasting good, upset stomach...and the only way to clear it up is to put myself through what I just got out of...which means another week's setback.

I keep telling myself that it will be worth it once it's done, but it's so frustrating. I just want to be healthy. I want to have energy. I want to be able to get things done. I keep falling further and further behind. Even the absolutely must dos are only getting done barely.

As if that wasn't enough, there's been some problems that involve my ex and his wife so I can't talk about them here. It's too public. Let's just say that it's spiked my stress levels insanely high over the past couple of weeks.  The combination of all of this plus a lot of little things had me run, not walk, away from social media. I just couldn't handle people. It's been a week and I'm barely sticking my toes back into that pond.

....and I just caught sight of the time. I have to go to my mammogram and get that done. This being a responsible adult thing is bullshit. I'll be back in a couple of hours to finish writing this...which you won't even realize the break except that I just wrote it...lol! ....

....and I'm back! I was squished and squashed and made to hold my breath, but I guess it's okay because she gave me a single square of chocolate afterwards. I'd have rather had a sticker.

So, I've been off of social media for about a week now and while I miss people, I find that I have a very low tolerance for them. As I told someone...For those familiar with the spoon theory, I'm out of every utensil in the drawer and I'm stabbing at things with a stick that is vaguely shaped like a chopstick. It is getting better in some ways and very much not in others.

A reminder for us all.

Mostly, I'm finding myself missing certain people. The problem is that these people aren't accessible to me and they're what I've dubbed my safe places. They're people that I can just be with. Having them no longer accessible to me makes things worse in some ways. It's harder to handle everything on your own sometimes.

But,that's just what I have to do and what I'm trying to do. For this week that means making sure I have a proper shopping list to prepare for not being able to eat real food this weekend as well as my oldest being here and him needing to eat real food. It means getting myself to all of my medical appointments this week. It also means making sure that I'm where the boys need me to be. It may be a week of baby step after baby step but if that's all I can do, that's all I can.

For now I'm going to curl up with a book for a while (I'm behind on reviews) and hopefully lose myself in its pages before I start on that shopping list...