yeah, I'm still here again, and I'm sorry I talk about uncomfortable things like my mental health, thoughts of suicide, and my eventual death, but...that's life, and as the tagline states, "just whatever's on my mind". well, being human, sometimes death and dying are on my mind. not so much today, but it will come up again, trust me. and it's about to be the Autumnal Equinox, so...it's the season for it, anyway. my ancestors have been closer than usual.
so what's the news, kids? what's up with you lurkers in the dark? why Do you read along? it's for the gossip, isn't it? yeah, I know you. freaks.
the word of the day is 'pain'. it has been the word of the day for several days, now. whatever the eczema-type rash thing I currently have on my right ankle is, it sure is making a show of wanting my attention. I'm assuming I ate a whole bunch of something that irritated it, or simply irritated it by eating whole bunch of something...anything. who knows. eggs? white flour? sugar? processed foods? all of the above? it probably wasn't the protein salad. I stopped seeing the doctor over my weight issues because she just pissed me off with her deprivation diet, but I did start seeing a nutritionist. she's nice, but I haven't really made any progress on my weight/health with her, either.
our recent move (been here 1 month!), added a lot of pressure to my food issues, and once I got settled in, found my journals and glucometer, it turned out my blood sugar levels were really high! up above 200! I got them to come down pretty quickly with a careful diet and the world's tiniest bit of exercise, but it's hard to keep them down on my budget (with my lack of abilities) so I stopped checking again for a minute. also, my fingertips got sore from the constant pin pricks, and test strips cost money. so my ankle peels and burns, and swells and cracks and weeps. and I ice it, and put warm compresses on it, and moisturize it, and let it dry out, and rub it, but do my best not to scratch it (I fail). putting on a shoe is one kind of hell - walking is another. I drink SO much water, and try not to eat at all (which leads to a whole slew of other issues), but it's so bad now, it's all I can think about. I've been contemplating a shower to soothe it for more than an hour, and I think I'm ready to go there. I also remembered that we bought aspirin when the teen got his braces on, so I'll probably take a few of those, too.
it's a bit better now, after a hot compress, and getting wrapped in gauze...though the aspirin may have had more to do with it, who knows.
it's interesting to note that it's just the way it was 9 years ago, when I first moved here - when I got so sick and broke out in hives the way I do, and ended up with a prescription to prednisone after a trip to the emergency room. fun times. but like I was telling my therapist this morning, (because I have it all wrapped up, now, like I do from time to time to keep my hands off it so I can let it heal and she asked what happen as people will when I wrap it up), it's all about moving, and poor food choices, and stress overload, and coming down from all of that toxicity...and my nostrils dried out! where I get my pimples just turned to sandpaper overnight. I'm 'croning'; moving into aging gracefully - or as smoothly as I can manage, anyway. paying attention to the foods I feed myself needs to be part of that, no matter how much I resent having to pay that attention.
I'm getting there. I bought some new soap, and moisturizer. I scheduled an expensive haircut at a fancy salon. the part of me that wants to care deeply and lovingly for myself is learning to be gentle with the part of me that wants to press hard on the spot where it hurts the most, and stick hot needles into my deepest pain. but I'm cleansing the wound instead, applying salve, wrapping it in soft bandages. just taking a moment to indulge myself, and letting that be ok. yes, there's so much that needs to get done, and I'm doing it, but I need to make time for me, too. to let all the chaos resolve to an order, and release the tension. listen to what the body needs, and provide it.
*right after typing that last paragraph, I took off the bandage and scratched the hell out of the wound, then had to clean it all up and rewrap it. sigh ~
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and it's a Tuesday, after a gig weekend, and I am hurting. my foot is SO much better, but is still a mess, so I'm doing my best to ignore it outside of cleaning and moisturizing it. I've been sneezing and coughing, and my sides hurt from it. my head is stuffed, and my back has been threatening to seize for about a week. I'm wheezy and weak-kneed, eyes baggy, sinuses clogged. I still refuse to close the windows, though my bare feet are freezing under the desk in the breeze from the window (it's about 50 degrees out, but I'm sure it's not that cold inside). I don't want to wear my slippers because they hurt the wound on top of my right foot. I suppose I could put on the left one...
I need to write, but I have 17 (17!) saved drafts already, and I have so much I want to do with this blog! I have years of backlogged work that I keep myself from completing, and it feels like I'm out of time, out of other options, and I am unwilling to do anything else at this point but my own work. so I've cleared the boards, but I'm still all stuck in my head in a big knot that needs untangling. luckily, I'm skilled at untangling knots. all it takes is time and patience, which I've had more trouble with, in the abstract.
of the many times I've spoken of being a sort of duality, I am also the whole universe at once, as we all are, though I have removed so many of my societal filters, I see no point in taking part in most of our social constructs. yet I do want to be a part of this world, have a place in it from time to time before retreating back to my fool's sanctuary of dreams and flimsy things that have no reason or meaning. it's just my creative process, but what am I making? and how does one measure that on a scale of comparable importance? yet who cares for such things as usefulness and productivity when one can pursue Truth and Beauty! whatever else I do in this life, I'm sure I'll manage to pass on at least one important bit of wisdom to future generations through my child. which of the many I've gifted him with it will be, I can't say...
and I did get a haircut, and my foot is getting better, but spending my weekend partying like an (aging) rock star with one of my oldest and most toxic friends sent the roller coaster I've been riding around a curve and through a tunnel, because I said something to my nutritionist that she asked me to say to my therapist, so I guess I feel like I should type it out here, as well:
"If you're going to kill yourself, yummy food is not a bad way to go. I keep wondering how many more ice creams until I have the heart attack." - me
now, I'm Not suggesting I'm about to kill myself, people, so CALM DOWN. I'm simply suggesting that We Are All Going To Die from One thing or Another, Eventually, so what's the harm in me eating a whole pie over the course of a day or two every now and again? why does it really matter? my therapist suggested that the quality of the life I have left to live on this planet might be affected, and again, I feel slightly fatalistic about such things, because I honestly think I will off myself if and when that happens. in any case, it's not today, so we will continue with the chronicles of my resistance to eating well and exercising regularly, figuring out whether or not being fat is the root of all my problems, and if it's worth giving up eating a chocolate cream pie as if it were a single serving in the hopes of one day setting eyes on grandchildren. stay tuned ~
