not all blogs are created equal

I was asked to write a blog post for work.  Of course I said yes, even though my initial reaction was that's not my job.  But then I started thinking, I love writing every day, why wouldn't I want to do this.  And the answer is because I couldn't use salty language on it.  Plus, the whole point was to be positive.  Which doesn't always describe me.  I can be positive, but usually, I'm a realist with a positive slant.

I embraced it wholeheartedly and wrote a semi-decent post.  Which hasn't been published as far as I know.  I was ghostwriting for someone in marketing, which had me a bit nervous, until I read some of his posts.  He's a nice guy, but there is much value in editing.  Just saying.

Even if it's never used, I got a gold star from my manager.  And it makes me a team player.

cry your eyes dry

I learned a new expression.  It's my latest favorite.

I think I have cried my eyes dry.  Or at least dry enough that I haven't cried in a full day.  Go me!  I couldn't stomach the brownies anymore either.  I froze the rest and went back to my healthy greens and liver.

The heavens are crying for me instead.  It might be time to build the Ark.  My pool is overflowing.  And green.  Yuck.  I keep fishing out the equivalent of a small tree every day, but I'm making backwards progress because 10 minutes a day isn't enough.  I tell myself why I can't go out and thoroughly clean it yet.  Lazy never comes up somehow.  Lightning.  Hail.  Freshly-washed hair.  The nebulous busy.  Migraines.  More bad weather on the way, even after eight inches of rain.  Those are all valid reasons.  But really, I'm lazy. 

And exhausted from being depressed.  Who knew it was so hard to lie around and cry?

I'm pretty sure I said I was READY TO RE-OPEN THE SUNSHINE DIVISION OF MY BRAIN AGAIN.  Wtf happened.  I guess I'm a Procrastinator.  I really mean it this time.  No more bad news, okay?  The Bad News Reception Area is closed until further notice.

/firmly puts on my rose-colored shades

Bring it, mofos!

better living through pharmaceuticals

The below pictorial describes my year, with improvement because of the migraine clinical trial.  It was a Leap Year, so perhaps I could subtract one day.  Plain and simple math, showing how much it sucks to be me.  And that's just one of my problems.  No wonder I'm fkn depressed.

Does this make me damaged goods?  So damaged that no one would ever accept me, as is?  I don't want to be frail and have to be accommodated for.  I want to be stubborn and pretend I'm normal.  But here it is, in glorious color, showing I am so far from normal.  Is there a way to position this as a positive? 

/sticks tongue out of the corner of my mouth and thinks hard

I have a Lamborghini brain, which requires Lamborghini maintenance and Lamborghini fuel.   That sounded more positive, right?  There's got to be a niche market somewhere for that.  Who doesn't like a beat-up, broken, antique Lamborghini?

oatmeal fatality

Ugh.  It was awful.  And I ate it all. Because it was healthy.  And I needed fuel.  Taste was irrelevant. 

I made my usual oatmeal. And then added in two many ingredients that didn't play well with others.  (By the way, I'm not an ignoramus, I used the homophone on purpose.)  I added chopped, fresh, tart kiwi.  With the scrubbed skin left on.  You know, for fiber and stuff.  I've done that many times before, so it didn't feel new.  That's where I fucked up, because I haven't done it recently and forgot how to blunt it. 

Then I added some vanilla protein powder.   Which is what ruined it.  It was horrid.  And I ate the whole bowl.  And felt pleasantly full. 

Happy Easter

I guess.  I wish I could summon a smile that big this morning.  The brownies and coffee aren't even helping.  Oh well, I wish you guys the best.  Smile a little for me if you can.

rock clinging

I typed rock climbing, but auto correct wanted to change it to clinging.  It's like it knows me.  I am merely clinging.  Not making any upward progress.  Just holding on for dear life. 

Have you ever gone rock climbing?  And started out confident and doing well?  Then your arms and fingers started to get tired.  And your technique went out the window?  And now, you're just barely holding on, trying not to fall to your death?

That's my metaphor for life today.  My ophthalmologist gave me bad news that my vision is not only not improving, but it's deteriorating.  But hey, maybe some more surgeries will help.  Fuck you, doc.  I fell for that once.  I'm not gonna try to kick that football again, Lucy. 

So here I am, clinging to this rock, tears streaming down my face.  And they aren't lessening.  Exercise didn't even help.  Nor did brownies for dinner.  Or breakfast.  Or dinner again.  I'm not one who usually turns to food for solace.  Now I know why.  I'm still depressed, but now I'm fat and depressed.  Not at all helpful. 

I've stopped answering my phone.   I've stopped answering emails.  I've stopped answering texts. 

I took sleeping pills to fall into oblivion for a few hours, but then I woke up with my same problems.  I tried getting some sunshine out by my filthy pool.  We've had over six inches of rain the past few days, and half of my vegetation is in my pool.  I even wore my new bikini to cheer myself up.  Nothing is working.  Just clinging here.  And crying. 

I can't see the positives anymore.  Or, I should say, I can't feel them.  Logically, I know I still have some great things in the Plus column, but the tears keep falling.   The Minus column is simply too overwhelming right now. 

pure flowers, pure power

Because I love flowers so much.  And because I love boots so much.  I combined my love of the two.  Not sure if these are an abomination or the best thing ever.

They're also not as comfy as I'd imagined.  I should probably stop buying boots online.  But, they were on sale.  They were Docs.  There were flowers.  What else did I need to know?  I'm hoping the leather softens and does so before I get huge blisters on the backs of my ankles.  My thicker Thorlos may save the day.

I'm wearing them now, and the thicker socks definitely help.  I wonder how ridiculous I look wearing them with shorts.  Whatevs, it's hot out, and Kitten doesn't seem to mind my atrocious fashion choices.

Did you notice the awesomely long boot straps?  They actually work and aren't just there for aesthetics.  Now I can literally pull myself up by the bootstraps.  Okay, I suppose it's still figuratively, but it's closer on the continuum to literally.

let them eat flowers

Reason #32 why I'd like to be a billionaire.  Remind me of this next time I'm daydreaming.  I'd have fresh flowers delivered every few days.  Fuck it, maybe even every day and give my leftovers to the poor.  Day old flowers for the little people. 

Fresh flowers for Spring, no matter if it's the 20^th or 21^st.

 

Some of my surviving orchids are in bloom.

Schrodinger's car

Yesterday, I got in my car, turned the key, and it wouldn't start.  It's such a helpless feeling.  Fortunately I was at home already.  Probably I didn't help matters by not driving for a week.  Fkn Zika aftereffects.

You guessed it, dead battery.  Hours later, I was the proud and relieved owner of an installed new battery and, more important, a functioning car.  The old me would have shopped around.  The new me just wanted that sick, helpless feeling to go away.  Okay, I didn't change that much.  I looked at two options before exercising the third.  And I frantically texted my brother asking his advice on everything so I wouldn't get scammed or given bad information.

And I can't complain overly much because my previous battery lasted over a decade.  Here's a plug for Optima batteries, but only if you can time-travel and buy an older one.  Allegedly, they've been bought out by a bigger company, and their quality has decreased.

I was very grateful to the man who fixed my car.  He was extremely thorough and did diagnostic testing to let me know my alternator was fine.  He explained everything along the way, although he did use jargon which was beyond me, but I got the gist of what he was saying.  I called his supervisor when he left to compliment him.  I don't think they get many of those calls, because they were taken aback at first, but then very happy they weren't dealing with an irate customer.

I'm nervous about starting my car today.  Schrodinger's car will be both dead and functioning until I actually turn the key and check.

time to re-open the sunshine division

Spring is symbolically a time for fresh starts and new beginnings.  Even though it's raining today, I'm going to re-open the sunshine division of my brain.  Or maybe especially because it's raining today?

I'm ready to put the pain behind me.  Behind me, where it's lurking, whispering, telling me that I'm not good enough.  A susurration of negativity just there, behind me.  Ssshhh.

People say time heals, but time doesn't magically heal.  It's how we use the time that allows us to heal. With the exception of my copious amounts of PityParties, I think I've put my time to good use in the healing compartment.  Now, to excise the fkn PityParties.  I wonder which supplement helps with that.  I'm pretty sure sunshine and tropical beaches work.

In that vein, I purchased a new bikini that helps to hide some of the scars that I'm self-conscious about.  I used to be more confident when I was at the beach, but I'm out of practice.  And older.  Sigh.  Yeah, yeah, I look great FOR MY FKN AGE.  Go fuck yourself.  And thank you.  :)

I'm ready to be happy and celebrate Nowruz, although there's much contention about exactly what day the first day of Spring falls on, the 20^th or 21^st?  Technically, it's the 20^th this year (and most years), but viscerally, many people assume equinoxes should be on the 21^st, including Persians apparently.  I've noticed that it's a generational thing, too.  My generation was taught that Pluto is a fkn planet, and the 21^st is the fkn equinox.  End of story.  Me?  I like learning new ideas, and I'm a traditionalist, so I'll meet in the middle and celebrate both days.  :)

almost human this morning

Fuck, I hate being sick.  Coughing sucks with a migraine.  Actually, everything sucks with a migraine.  Mic drop. 

Just goofing.  I can't tell if I'm actually better this morning or if the Imitrex-Benadryl cocktail I took is cleverly masking the symptoms.  I think I have my voice back somewhat.  Which Kitten is thrilled about, I'm sure.

Here's a quote that inspired me recently.

Courage doesn't always roar. Sometimes courage is a quiet voice at the end of the day saying, "I will try again tomorrow."
                              -Mary Anne Radmacher

I've needed to feel like it was courageous of me to say tomorrow will be better.  My days (and nights) have not been the most pleasant of late, what with the coughing, the fever, the pain, oh my fkn god, the fkn pain.  I kept telling myself that tomorrow it would be less, and I would be more.  I was a big fat liar.  And the ice pack was my new best friend.

While I was lying in my delirium and misery, I looked up Zika to see if I truly had the symptoms.  After all, Florida is leading the country in the Zika outbreak, presumably all obtained from foreign travel though, not through mosquito transmission yet.  What I noticed is that Zika has fairly similar symptoms to every other flu-type virus.  Which means that most people will self-treat and be officially undiagnosed.  So how can they have any hope for accurate numbers?

Which means the count is probably much higher.  Which means I did have the fkn Zika.  Or maybe dengue.  Or Chikungunya, although that was so two years ago and not at all fashionable anymore.  But it is fun to say. 

I'm a tiger

Yes, this is another silly quiz.  But, I'm sick and cranky, so cut me some slack.

Malayan tigers live on the Malayan Peninsula and the southern tip of Thailand. They eat large mammals like deer and wild boar, and, like all tigers, they have distinctive stripes. These tigers are actually a newly discovered species: They were thought to be Indochinese tigers until 2004, when DNA tests showed they're genetically distinct.

I might have Zika

Or just a flu.  But then add in my old friend migraine.  And the mysterious Flugraine happens.  It's a rare occurrence.  Maybe once every five years when I forget to take perfect care of myself.  And when it takes hold, it grips me tenaciously, no matter how much I dose up with my vitamins and magic potions.

I'm in pain management mode, rum for my sore throat, imitrex for my head, magnesium for the body aches, and hot salty water to keep me hydrated.  I've completely lost my appetite, although I did force myself to eat two bowls of soup yesterday. 

Fuck, I hate being sick.  It feels like a personal failure, as if I didn't try hard enough to stay healthy.  That one night I didn't get enough sleep.  Or that one day I didn't take enough supplements.

It's not the worst flu ever.  And it's not the worst migraine ever.  But the two together are fkn horrible.  As Aristotle said, the whole is greater than the sum of its parts.  And by greater, I mean so much worse.

right brain left brain, red brain blue brain

Here's a silly test to measure how dominant you are in left vs. right brain.  It's not accurate in the slightest, but it's a fun time-waster.  Does that make me more right or left brained, thinking this was fun? 

I hate to burst anyone's bubble, but the right brain left brain myth was debunked recently.  I knew this and still elected to take the test.  Twice.  That probably doesn't say much for me, huh?  There are several other brain myths to dispel, especially that stupid 10% one.

Does anyone feel smarter yet?  I especially love that brains can continue to create new cells via neurogenesis. 

 

P.S.  The big bad migraine is finally gone, I think.  Yay.

didn't have to cancel

I medicated like a mofo yesterday and was able to keep my movie plans. Yippee! 

In other news, Deadpool is a fun movie.  There were tons of jokes ad funny references, although I'm sure I missed a bunch because my brain was not firing on all cylinders.

The migraine sort of dissipated yesterday afternoon after dose #4, but I can feel it lingering in the fog of my head, waiting to pounce.  Today is going to be a 'take it easy, Wendy,' self-care kind of day.  Fortunately I have the day off from work, so that helps. 

However, no one told Kitten, who quite insistently woke me at 6:26 am, despite it being prime coyote time.  There was much whining and crying (by both of us) until I felt it was light enough to disperse the potential coyotes.  When I finally let her out the back door, she got spooked and came right back in.  She decided the front yard was more secure.  You'll be happy to know, she's safely inside now, napping on my desk, with her belly full of pork tenderloin.

A nap soon sounds delightful.

and that's why I don't like making plans

Fuck you, migraine.

Okay, that's out of the way.  Maybe I need a 'Fuck my life' or three thrown in also.  Sigh, fuck my life.

I felt a migraine slowly developing yesterday and ignored it because every once in a while it stops on its own.  This wasn't one of those times.  I took a pill.  Waited two hours in misery and increasing pain.  Started wondering if I had missed my mouth somehow when I took it.

Kitten bailed and gave up on dinner plans.

I finally did an injection.  No hesitation about the pain of the needle or the burn of the medicine.  Just POP.  Fuck!  Owwww.  Can't breathe.  Chest is tightening up.  Force my lungs to breathe, despite the elephant sitting on it.  Need a distraction.  

In the midst of my pain, I was already feeling guilty about letting people down and letting myself down and how much money was wasted because of prepaid stuff.  I haven't even canceled anything yet.  And the guilt and recriminations flooded me.

After the shot did its magic, I went downstairs to feed Kitten and to feed myself.  I made mac 'n' cheese and dropped it on the floor.  And sat down and ate it.  In my defense, I had just mopped, so the floor was clean.  Plus the 30 second rule.  Plus the I'm hungry rule.  And it wasn't even old mac 'n' cheese.  Which meant an extra +10 to flavor.  It's the only time I eat mac 'n' cheese.  I sometimes crave it during migraines.

I woke during the night and took more meds.  The pain has receded to the middle of my head and greatly reduced in severity.  Off to work with a smile on my face, lest anyone guesses the torment of my life.

do you suffer from fomo?

No, FOMO isn't a new disease created by the pharmaceutical companies.  Or is it?? 

It's what millennials are calling 'grass is greener' syndrome, and it stands for fear of missing out.  Nowadays, people see their friends allegedly having the best fkn time ever on social media.  Which leads to the assumption that life is passing them by whilst everyone else is crushing it.

As per usual, I'm going against the grain and posting my lows as well as my (very few) peaks.  Because I'm authentic.  And because this is more for me than you.  Sorry, not sorry.  Of course that makes me wonder if you like reading this because it helps you feel superior?  Not judging, just curious. 

If you aren't waking up with nightmares a few times a week, I would agree that you're superior.  And I'm green with envy.  Not to be confused with grass is greener syndrome.  Are you getting into a St. Patrick's Day mood yet?  What other green cliches can I trot out?

If you're at all curious if you suffer from FOMO, try this scientific (?) test.

old brings out the best

Five year old soup is pretty mild for me, I know.  It sat there for years because who likes plain mushroom soup?  Not me, that's who.  So, I got creative.

Do you ever open your fridge and start throwing random ingredients in your soup?  Sometimes it works, and sometimes it doesn't.  I added bacon, which sort of cooked but never got crispy.  Who am I kidding, it was still half raw.  Totoro tells me she eats raw bacon all the time, so I figured why not.  Olives, but somehow I cheaped out and bought the un-pitted kind.  It was an odd addition, but it worked, I guess.  Of course I added my ubiquitous greens -- Swiss chard this time.  I topped it off with avocado and lots of salt.

My belly is full.  No migraines were triggered.  And nutrients were gained.  Mission accomplished.

cauterize the pain

I'm trying to get a handle on my emotions lately.  I've been reining them in for the past year.  Hard.  Out of survival mode.  I've read that once we feel safe enough, we start to let out the painful ones.  Boy, do I wish I could lock those up and set fire to that wing of my brain.  Why the fuck do I want to let those out? 

No good is coming from it.  Only more pain and anxiety.  Which makes me analyze my life.  Which leads to more painful realizations.  I need to end that downward spiral with a quickness.

I keep reminding myself that my former partner isn't the sole reason our relationship was amazing for twenty years.  I was half of that equation, although perhaps the math isn't that straightforward.  But I helped, damn it!  I have fantastic qualities in me, too.  Somewhere.  Even if I can't see them clearly at the moment because my eyes are blurred with tears.

I brought joy and sunshine with me.  Hard to believe, I know, but I used to be an optimist.  I want that part of my personality back.  Burn down the wing of pain, and re-open the sunshine division.  He fell in love with me, therefore I must be worth loving and worthwhile, right?  Or is that faulty logic?  Is it wrong to be logical about a broken heart?

Of course it is.  Ssshhh, let me have my shiny fantasy.

bacon helps

I had a great day yesterday, but I fell apart and fractured last night.  In a BIG way.  I was reminded that perhaps a depressive episode is a migraine precursor, so I medicated at the first sign of pain.  In this instance, I think the crying triggered the migraine.  But who the fuck knows.  I'm just so sick of everything.

However, here's where I count my blessings.  That's such a trite platitude, but it holds true.  I have a few great people in my life who love me.  Even when they're far away, they make themselves available to me.  On paper, my life is pretty good.  Minus the 76 (and counting) migraines this year.  But wait, I was counting blessings not curses.  I'm in a nice climate-controlled home.  I have food in my belly and in my fridge, and my magical cupboard full of expired canned food is running low.

I had a lovely lunch with my dad this week.  Yes, I know I talk about my abominable childhood and the fear he struck in me, but we're both different people now and have moved past that.  I'm not big on keeping grudges.  Life is painful enough without purposefully holding onto more misery.

I had bacon and kale for breakfast, topped with toasted pumpkin seeds and pecans, which made me smile.  Because bacon.

The weather is absolutely gorgeous.

And, I ran out of things to count.  Math is hard.  :\

living the dream, a.k.a. the fuck-it life

Are you living the Fuck It Life?  (Who knew people could make a living peddling this?)

I took the test twice, and scored the same both times.  By the way, I used a fake email and got my score onscreen, in case you're trying to avoid spam.  And stress. 

My score was 64% and highly scientific, I'm sure.

60–80%: Well done, you’re pretty close. Just some tweaking required: caring less a little here, going for it a little more there, and the F**k It jackpot will soon be yours. 

I'm surprised that they asterisked out some of the letters.  I mean, to truly say fuck it, doesn't one need to stop worrying if one's salty language is offensive?  But maybe that's just me.  I like salt.  It intensifies flavor.  So does my language. 

Just say fuck it.  C'mon, say it with me.  Fuck it.  It's kind of liberating.  And empowering.


DISCLAIMER:  I have no affiliation with that site and have no idea about the quality of their guidance.  My guidance is awesome, however.  :)  Usually.

happy scars?

I read an interesting quote the other day.

“It's so hard to forget pain, but it's even harder to remember sweetness. We have no scar to show for happiness. We learn so little from peace.”― Chuck Palahniuk 

I tend to harp on my scars a bit.  I'm self-conscious of both the physical and the emotional ones.  The physical ones can be deceptively hidden, depending on my sartorial choices, but the emotional ones come out at awkward times.  Mostly they tend to make me seem a pain in the ass or crazy, depending on which way the wind is blowing.

In thinking about scars for happiness, some women might point to their pregnancy stretch marks and say those are happy scars.  Good times may not scar most of us in the traditional sense, but they do change us.  I'm a better person for all of the wonderful times I've experienced.

I can't pinpoint exact moments of happiness though, like I can exact moments of pain.  I have happy memories such as exotic trips or savory dinners, but unless I took photos, those memories fade and become harder to retrieve.  And yet, I can distinctly recall the paralyzing fear I felt when my parents got angry with me when I was a child.  Every day, I see the scars on my body to remind me of various surgeries, ailments, and mishaps.

I've recently learned this is a design feature not a bug.  We've evolved to have our brains make a permanent recording of bad shit so we can learn from it and avoid it the next time.  The good experiences, while nice, were not vitally important to recollect for our survival.  So we didn't.

I feel like we need to evolve again and reverse that.  Nowadays I don't need to remember the paralytic fear and pain so vividly.  I'm not in danger of my parents killing me or of being bullied.  However, I am in danger of too much remembered fear and pain bringing me to my knees in hopelessness.  I don't want to live in crippling fear of the next excruciating migraine because every horrible one is stuck in my head like a bug in amber.  I *need* intense, powerful happy memories to give me a reason to wake up again tomorrow.

I don't need (or want for fuck's sake) to remember my heart breaking and shattering.  That'll just prevent me from opening up to love again.  How is that healthy for my survival?  I *need* dramatically blissful permanent memories to overwrite that pain.  How do I perpetuate those once they've formed?  Besides photographic evidence?  I have to rewire my brain and connect the purple HAPPY wire to the PERMANENT MEMORY thingamabob and the drab PAIN wire to the DISCARD AFTER EXPIRY DATE area, although we all know that's merely a suggestion to me.  ;)