Some thoughts on 'drama', and social networking not working...for me

I'm not an overly dramatic person, and I tend to avoid the spotlight in favor of maintaining my lone wolf status, but I will admit that my recent Crackbook post was a bit over the top.  I got waayyyyy more involved in the online community than I ever intended, and my real life personal relations suffered for it.  Truth is, as it has so blithely been pointed out time and again, the illusion of having so many friends can be deceiving, and can fool one into thinking people are there for you, when they simply are not.  I send thanks to those who attempted to reach out to me when they feared the worst.  I also temper those thanks with the question, "where are you today?  Where were you before then?  Where will you be in the future?"  Great, so I didn't die that night, but what about the next?  And the next after that?  How many of you actually know what I go through in a day, a week, a month?  How many of you actually care?  And is that caring about me, or about an extension of yourself?

For those of you who pay attention, I addressed many of the questions and attitudes I have about suicide in a previous post, and any of you who actually READ this blog don't really have an excuse to have thought I would actually kill myself.  To be sure, if I were going to check out of here, I would make sure my son was safely ensconced with his father, first, and not be lying in a pool of blood on the living room floor for him to find when he gets off the school bus.  So, thanks for the vote of confidence, I really appreciate it.

CALLING THE POLICE, OR ANY MEMBER OF MY FORMER FAMILY IS INEXCUSABLE AND UNACCEPTABLE!!!  I know you thought you were doing the right thing, but I want to make clear for any future concerns that this is not the approved course of action.  The approved course of action is to calmly let me know either by phone or by email that you care deeply for me, and are willing to help in any way possible.  Coming to my house and knocking on my door is also acceptable.  I don't care how far away you live - I once drove 15 hours straight across the country for a friend whose parent had died.  (To my friend who called the cops - that's 12 1/2 hours farther away than you were, Monday night, and they were merely grieving a passing that was expected.)  I would do so again, without a second thought for most of you.  Ask yourselves if you're willing to do that before you jump all over any of my posts again - not that I'll give you the chance, I learned my lesson the hard way...

So, enough with the social network, and back to the blog.  Read it or don't.  If you feel moved to comment, which some of you sometimes are, PLEASE comment on the blog, not on the link to the blog.  I'm not interested in 90% of the crap that gets posted on the 'book'...well, maybe more like 50%, I'm not sure.  I really dig the science tidbits from my science teacher friend, and the music links from my DJ/musician friend, and some of the interesting news articles I wouldn't otherwise have noticed from my newshound friends.  Some of you are downright amusing, some of you are flat out annoying (but you get deleted, so you won't be seeing this!), some of you I just love so damn much I don't care what you post!  My email and my phone number are listed on my info page - please make note of them if you want to continue communicating with me out in the world of forms, okay?  Okay.

Enough about that , and we get up and move on.  Shit still sucks.  I'm still embroiled in what looks to a be an ugly, ongoing legal battle with my 'mother' without representation, I still have to move post-haste (ANY AND ALL OF YOU ARE INVITED BEGGED TO COME HELP.  PLEASE.) to I-don't-know-where yet, and my car is still smashed up beyond my ability to fix it.  If you have any solutions, feel free to contact me by the traditional methods, or leave a comment here.  Thanks again.

M

Another Year in Review

Holy crap, another year gone?  It's hard to believe that another year has slipped by so quickly, and where the fuck am I ?  Same goddamned place, a bit worse or a bit better for wear - I'm not sure, it's a hard call.  Maybe I'll leave it to you to decide...

Last year found me out of work, and deciding to go back to school.  That didn't work out so well.  All it left me was further in debt, and still without my degree.  I felt inspired to do some really positive work, and I still do, but 'real life' keeps getting in my way - which is stupid, because creating is the only 'real life' I have, and everything else is just another bullshit way to make paper, another endeavor I have proven to be most unsuccessful with.  'Nexus', my epic work-in-progress still has not seen the light of day, and I started a few other projects that have now been relegated to the top of the 'when I have time and money' pile.  I didn't just walk away from Goddard - once again, events transpired to derail me from my chosen path, and that calls into question either my commitment to my work, or my inability to stand true in the face of adversity, take your pick.  Or have both, I'm not choosy.  Epic fail, both ways, in my opinion.

The biggest obstacle to my pursuit of the elusive degree was The Fight, as I will call it.  The unequivocal nail in the coffin of the relationship I had with my former relatives, the 'family' I was born into.  While I do, and will, miss my nephew and nieces, they will all eventually turn 18 and make their own decisions.  Other than them, and a few cousins, I'm not really all that unhappy to see the rest of them go.  Had I left them without a word 22 years ago, my life may have taken the shape I keep willing for it by now, without all the lingering clouds of doubt cast by the naysayers who never had my best interests in mind.  Sadly, The Bitch has brought this stupid, useless lawsuit into my life, and I fear it will take awhile longer to be fully rid of them after all.  We will all have cake and do our happy dance together when it is done - with the Universe's blessing, I pray with all my heart, to please let it be so.

The stress that The Fight has caused in my life has undoubtedly contributed to the tinnitus I now suffer from on a constant basis, as well as the rash that resides on my right foot.  To be fair, the rash has been there for awhile (though not as long as these 'familial issues'), but the scratching of it is a stress-response, to be sure.  On the other hand, my doctor ran some blood tests and found me to be seriously deficient in the vitamin D department, and beefing up on that particular necessity has helped calm the hurt.  I haven't been smoking for awhile now, coming up on 8 months, just one month short of the longest I've gone without cigarettes for the past 27 or so years of addiction, and I'm pretty happy about that!  My skin seems to have healed pretty well from the burning swelling itchy what-the-fuck that happened as an assumed (more blood tests, awaiting results) allergic reaction to one of the supposedly healthy things I ingested in my attempt to walk the road to wellness - the culprits include the vitamin D, the probiotic, the fish oil, or the 'mercury cleanse', with suspicion resting heavily on the fish oil and the cleanse.  More on that when I get the results of the latest vampirism.  Also a high note - neither Zev nor I have suffered from any of the annual cold/flu/sinusitis/ear infections since our exodus from the County of Orange, and I am thanking the Universe for that blessing as well.  And I'm down 10 pounds, to boot...though, again, that may just be from stress.  Whatevs, I'll take it where I can get it!

We will, unfortunately, be moving again, and I wish the decision to where wasn't plaguing me the way it is.  On the one hand, I frakking hate NY, and have a sincere itch to hightail it back up to VT with all possible haste.  On the other hand, the boy is doing super-awesome in school, and I don't want to remove him from yet another peer group.  In NY I have a job and decent health care, the kid's in a good school, and I have one close friend who I feel I can almost count on.  In VT I have the child's father, and a few close friends I can mostly count on.  I need to leave my apartment because I've managed to somehow be blessed with a section 8 voucher (housing assistance), and the apartment I'm in is not approved by them.  I can take my voucher anywhere in the U.S., so...for once I have some options, and I want to think carefully about where I need to be that will best serve my child and me on as many fronts as possible.  I feel torn in too many directions - hell, I could go out West and make a go of it in AZ or OR.  I even had an offer of asylum in VA!  What to do what to do...  If not for the boy, I'd have been following the Rainbow/Renaissance train long ago.  Screw this living in places and putting down roots - I have Gypsy blood, and it likes to roam, stereotypes aside.  But the boy, oh, the boy...

The boy is AMAZING!  I can't believe how completely awesome he is, even in the wake of all this confusion.  He is smart and loyal, and friendly and funny, and cute as a very cute button and wise beyond his years - he is imaginative and playful and brave and persnickety, he drives me crazy and brings me joy, blows my mind and makes me so very proud.  He's soft and sweet and gentle, he loves babies and kittens and superheros and ninjas and Jedis, Godzilla and Legos, he loves to draw and cut paper, makes pop-up cards, and brings his mama flowers when she's feeling down - flowers that he makes himself out of cut paper.  He loves to dance and sing, tries desperately not to be afraid of monkey bars and riding his bike without the training wheels, saves all his pennies and likes to wear a suit and tie.  He tries to be brave, and for the most part, he succeeds - thunderstorms can still be troubling, though he says he's over it now.  I couldn't love him any more, but if there's a way, I will find it!  He is truly the greatest thing I have managed to bring in to this world, my child of love and light and harmonious vibrations, and he has taught me volumes on who I don't want to be (read:  my own parents), and shows me every day how to ask forgiveness and improve.  I know, I know, you parents of teens and beyond, I've only just begun this journey, but it goes fast, and I want to stay present in it and glory in it's majesty while I can.  Yes, it makes me crazy when he thinks he knows more than me, or chastises me for drinking soda, but it's also very sweet, and I want him to feel confident enough to voice his opinion when it is helpful - like a few weeks ago, when I was having trouble remembering if I was supposed to be traveling North or South on that particular highway, he piped up from his booster seat, "it's South!  I read the directions!"  My angel..!

We had a great Summer, last, and I can't wait to be free of the routine of school (until camp starts) so we can explore the swimming holes and camping trips this Summer has to offer - we have a trip planned to High Valley with our Lake Circle friends, but Rainbow will be out in Washington this year, and I wish with all my heart our car and finances could carry us out there, but I think they most likely will not (the car is in sad shape after the crash of a few weeks back).  I cheesed on my friend's Summer Stock blog-share thing last year, but I hope to remember to find joy in collecting images again this year - be they digital images, or actual photographs.  I don't have the luxury of a garden with this apartment, and the few plants I had left suffered greatly in the last move, but hopefully our new digs will afford me the opportunity to stick my hands in some soil again, soon.

Still no boyfriend, and all those presenting themselves for the possibility are sorely lacking.  The ex says I'm just too damn fat to expect anything more, but he can kiss my firm, plump ass and like it.  Somehow, I manage to convince myself I am still beautiful.  Many of my friends are struggling with desperately difficult circumstances, and I continue to be there for them through my own struggles, because that's what keeps us holding on - being there for each other.  I have probably alienated some of the people in my life whose lives are smooth sailing for the most part, for the simple reason that they just don't need me.  I like to be needed.  I like being leaned on, and holding people up - because I know that when I fall, they will be there to catch me.  I have never made anyone feel ashamed of anything they've done, or judged them harshly for their choices.  I sympathize, empathize and commiserate - I understand.  This is all the blessing I have to give to you right now, dear readers, but know that you can call on me whenever for whatever, and I will be there as best I can for you.  Even those of you who don't know how to be there for me.

Selah

Dead Flowers

Once again I've fallen behind, thinking I had something to write about, coming on here, where I haven't been in too long, to find two forgotten drafts just sitting there, looking accusatory. I had another dream I wanted to work out, about the ex going to work for year on a space station, and the boy, and some miltary overtones, and the BF with the lowdown, and the 7 year old driving the car down the highway while I chatted on the cell phone...weird stuff, to be sure. There was also an update-in-the-making on my face, and the general state of my health, with some wonderings on how much to spill about my legal battle...I deleted both of them. I was in a car accident the day I woke up from that dream, on my way to a festival, with two passengers in the car, one of whom was my child. No one was badly injured, thank goodness, but the driver's side door is smashed in and unusable (including the window), my insurance won't cover the damage, and I've been climbing in and out through the passenger side with my sore left butt cheek, lower back and neck for almost two weeks now. Yaay. I must have thrown those drafts down before I left to go to the festival...

That's not what I came here to get down. I came to the page to talk about love. Or rather, to gripe and whine about my lack of it. In the wake of everything that's been dragging me down (the legal battle/inability to get a lawyer, the eviction/moving process, the car crash/lack of funds to fix the damage), several people I know have announced to the world their choice to marry. Good for them. Really. I'm happy they've found love - in some cases for the second time, after the death of a previous spouse. Mazal tov. I, on the other hand, have not even managed to marry once. The longest relationship I managed was only 4 1/2 years long, 5 if you count the sex we continued to have after we technically broke up, and no longer cohabitated...

I'm alone, and I'm lonely. There are those who say, "you have your son", which is true, but the company of a 7 year old boy is not the company of another adult who has chosen to spend his time with me, building a relationship and a life together, based on love.  The kid has no choice - he's stuck with me, for better or worse, until the day he decides to leave my house (for greener pastures, I pray with all my heart).  At this point, I believe I've missed any and all opportunity to find any kind of sustainable relationship, and I suppose I'm mourning that loss.  I hardly have any friends that care to spend any time with me, and I go for weeks without any sort of adult interaction - let's not even get into the last time I had a night out, or even had more than a few hours away from the boy at all.  I miss my life - the one where I could get up and go anywhere at the drop of anything...

So what does that have to do with love?  Frankly, I don't know either.  I just know that rather than rejoicing for those who have found it, I am angry and bitter at my lack thereof standing out in stark contrast.  I love my son more than any goddamned thing, and I even find a way to continue to love his father.  I love some of my friends, though they hardly deserve it.  And I love my really good tried and true friends, the ones I call my 'ride or die' friends forever and always, no matter what.  Which one are you?

I'm really tired, there's too much on my plate, and just when I think I can't take any more, more gets piled on somehow anyway...and I must rise again.  Maybe one of these days, I'll learn to just stay down.  The Universe has been trying to kill me since the day I was born, and I suppose I must be a cockroach, or I'd be dead, right?  Only the good die young?  My purpose here has not been fulfilled?  Whatever is up, I have a small person to get on the school bus tomorrow, and a heapload of shit to deal with before it brings him back home.  Home.  A place I've never been, but I keep trying to figure out what it might look like, and build a reasonably good facsimile of it wherever our stuff happens to be.  I wonder where our stuff will land next?

Interesting how when I started this blog, my subject matter was 'the guy, the BF, the kid and the garden', with a bit about work thrown in as well.  Now it's 'the lawsuit, the housing, the car, and my lack of regular orgasm'.  Fascinating.  I'll have to look into that, as soon as I can get past the nightmares of being chased through the Monsey house by my 'mother' who is attempting to murder me, while I make every effort to protect my son and my youngest niece from her rampaging...I tell you, I'm right on the edge.  Dangerously.

supermoon

Saturday was a great day, really fun.  The boy and I went to the park, rode his bike over to check out the skate park, played at Small World which is apparently only one of the complexes playgrounds, rode around some more, came home for a nice warm late lunch, and decided to drive the 4 hours to Vermont to see his dad's new band play at P-Pie in Montpelier.  Sure, why not?  I'm always up for a night out dancing to great live music, and the kid could take a nap on the drive and stay up late with the party people, so off we went, me with extra layers, the small one with his ninja gear and stuffies.  Yay!  The drive was as fine as could be - the only thing missing was my BF, my good time friend, in the passenger seat, smiling out into the distant night, singing along with me and the radio, feeling fine.

As the boy was lulled by the asphalt rhythms, and I was left to myself, I thought how awful a parent I must be for driving to Vermont to take my son to see loud rock band in a bar late at night.  What was I doing?  I was taking my kid to a gig at a bar in a city 4 hours away late at night because his dad was playing guitar for a rock band and our friends were meeting us there and would probably be drunk and we would sleep on a couch or something and head home in the morning.  Yup.  I'm insane.  And I mourned my son, and pondered mythology, feeling across the ages to hold Mary's hand as she watched them crucify Jesus, thinking about the mythology I had begun, and wondered where I would let it take me, where it would lead.  How I would be led.  I saw then a partner, a shining light, felt his love beaming out at me from that empty shotgun seat, and I understood again how everything was just going to be okay, and I smiled my joy singing out into the fly by night...calling to Dionysus' panther that I wouldn't mind a lift.

And as I was Ariadne, riding that panther, making the miles disappear under the wheels of my modern godly chariot, I watched a giant yellow moon rise enormous over the horizon; held spellbound by the sight of Her, brought to my metaphorical knees by the Beauty, I swayed in my seat in my true happiness, savoring the delight of the Moment, blessed as it was, and sweet.  Joyousness must have woke my angel, because as he stirred, and looked to catch my eye in the rear view, That Moon broke free of the trees and floated up into the sky like a luminous Eye, and looked down upon Everything, and I held out my hand to her, reached to bask in her smooth amber glow, and I saw the eyes of my son read Her light along it's reflection in the silver circles on his mother's arm, and we were holy again.

I got a bit worried that they might not play long, and that we might miss them, that we drove all this way for nothing, and made my attempts at teleportation, but got frustrated, missed a turn somewhere and ended up a half an hour down the road from where I wanted to be, and when.  Tragic.  I pounded that last 30 minutes hard, had all the gears firing, was vibrating with it as we pulled up in a dusty ball of kinetics coming to rest all at once in a hurry.  Bam.  Here we are.  We rushed breathless to the door, to the big window where we could see in that my friends were not on the stage, to scan the crowd and catch the eye of our longtime friends, who smiled and came out to give happy hellos on the sidewalk, and bring us news of our luck - we hadn't missed a thing, right on time in fact, even a bit early.  Look at all the people we know in here, and while he's the youngest, mine is not the only kid in the place, there are several, whom we all know, and all belong to the band.  One of two who belong to my friend is even old enough to drink at the bar with us now, its own kind of joyous heartbreak, that bittersweet aching that is enlightened life.

They played super, like the moon.  Bad Dog.  Round and full and growled and fur, naked and smoky and Joe.  Down with it, dirty, like inside your mind.  Shake it out, dance with it, I turned it all the way up and got it on.  The boy held on and got up in the madness, my brave little soldier, seeing what he can see.  I let it muck me about and turned with it, grasping on and shooting it out around me, joining them in, working it through, being part of it.  It was somehow sublime.  The music the guitar and the drum make have always caught me, and I really dug the singer, need to hear more of the bass to know it, but wow.  Groove-diggity, fantastic.  Full on under the supermoon...yeah!  Wanting more.

Oh, so tired after many long hours, back to the house for the sleep on the mat on the floor, all still abuzzing at 4:30 in the good times, attempting to bring it down and be with it, ground and rest.  The morning will hold its own challenges, and sleep sleep  sleep...

and as for you

Right.  My face.  It just got so bad.  I took pictures, but they're too horrible, and I decided I can't post them, so you'll have to believe me.  With my face all blown up like a baked potato, and stinging so bad there was no relief from the burn, I decided to head to the ER and just see what a professional person of the medical arts might say.  They said a bunch of stuff, shot me up with an IV of lord-knows-what and saline, and sent me on my way with a couple of prescriptions.  Boy am I glad I embarked upon this quest for health and wellness!

Thankfully, the prednisone took the swelling down pretty well, but my skin still appeared red and hella-chapped.  Yes - so bad I said hella.  I decided to head to VT on a whim last Saturday
night, too, and thinking it would be an in & out job, brought naught more than the clothes on my back...but I got stuck.  The blanket I slept under irritated my skin badly, and I woke up with fresh bruises from scratching.  Then I got a flat tire, and in my attempt to change it, I dropped the car off the jack.  When I finally managed to get it back up off the pavement and put the donut on, I spent the rest of the morning driving around looking for an open tire place to no avail, so I took the boy to P-Pie and resolved to stay an extra day.  Alas.  It would have been perfectly alright to spend another day visiting in VT, eat another Coffee Corner breakfast, say hey to folks we met along the way, but I didn't bring the little blue bills that apparantly kept my 'sunburn' in check (our waitress did in fact ask if I had a sunburn), and the burning Itch was becoming increasingly uncomfortable.  After another mostly sleepless night, we struck out first thing Monday morning, got a new tire, and headed South - into the flurries, which were just flurries as we headed out of Montpelier.  By the time we were done winding our way along 107 towards Killington, the pavement was white, and I was crawling along at a white-knuckle 20 mph, praying the semi that was stopped at the crest of the hill would move before I had to hit my brakes and lose any momentum I could have counted on to get myself over that hump - with another semi coming in fast in my rear view.  I didn't make it.  The semi behind me kissed my back bumper and came to a stop, while I fishtailed my way up the last few hundred yards of snowy slalom to pull in at the gas station and break down in tears, while gulping in huge breaths of air, my first since the long moments when I saw that truck coming up behind me.

We got some snacks, took a potty break, and sat in the car until the snow appeared to taper off a bit, and I'd seen a few plow trucks go by before I attempted to slide down the other side of the mountain to our certain doom.  I started off slow, mindful of my traction and the cars I passed on the shoulder with their hazards on.  I managed not to have a heart attack or hurtle us into oblivion over the edge of a cliff, and I found that as I pulled into Rutland and turned onto 7, that we were going to live, and even get back to Woodstock this very afternoon, that I could count on a shower in T minus 2 1/2 hours.  Once we hit the Thruway, it was smooth sailing, and I was under the boiling hot water by 5pm, dosed on a blue pill, and breathing my relief into the steam.  Now, 4 days of liberal slathering of moisterizer later, I feel that I've really had just about enough of this facial catastrophy I've been dealing with, fully acknowledging that I did it to myself, but who knew and all that, and it's moot at this point.  It's looking much improved right now, even though it was threatening to come back in force, which makes me think I'm on the 'better' side of the whole experience, yay team (blue pills and moisterizer).

holy cow...

Wow, I had a whole post typed in recapping the last few things I've been meaning to recap, when I stepped away from the computer to live my life for a minute, and the power went out...you would have thought it would still be here, as it was saved and all.  Guess not.

So.  Dreams.  And dream interpretation.  For the dream I called 'the first one' in this post:  in a space where I feel comfortably trapped, I have the freedom to explore the symbolic boundary between personal self and public self while merging various aspects of my personality, and letting things happen at their own pace - anticipatory, perhaps uneasy.  I'm looking to recapture the excitement, freedom and vitality of youth in my current need for intimacy and affection, but I'm keeping a secret, not dealing with an issue, getting ready to finally acknowledge qualities within myself.  I feel emotionally cold and frigid, excluded, left out, scarred by the lack of love and absence of warmth in my own family circle, so I need to work on mindfully exploring aspects of my self that have yet to be acknowledged or utilized.

The second one, from the same post:  an aspect of my personality that I have rejected, but am ready to incorporate and acknowledge, and the relationships I have with those around me are important in learning about myself.  a positive regression into a past where I had no responsibilities, things were simpler, carefree. escaping the pressures and stresses of adulthood, acting in a childish manner - because 'acting like an adult' is a part of myself that is repressed and hidden. so the archetypal dream helper offers me insight and advice in searching for some direction in my life which is lacking motivation.  a transformative self exploration is the beginning of the path that I am taking, going through a transitional phase and journeying into the unknown to experience spiritual enlightenment, emotional growth, physical prowess, new opportunities and mental passages.  social and cultural changes, expanding knowledge and awareness - now is a good time to experiment and try new things. In considering personal experiences and memories, they may be a reflection of my current surroundings. achieving my goals through perseverance and hard work.  a period of stress struggle determination ambition.  instability  - lost my grip on a situation, a relationship.  lost control of perception, vitality, my outlook on life, my consciousness and point of view. intuition and awareness in reflecting on a decision.  going back out into the larger world and experiencing life again. a new surge of energy, growth, ambition and renewed confidence.  rebuilding by working on bettering my mind and body.  approaching my goals with careful forethought and preparation, yet lowering my standards, doing less than my best.  willpower, hidden aspects of my activities, feeling hollow and empty. an awakening to get out and expose myself to new interests and activities.  feeling stuck - dug into a hole and can't get out to enjoy something familiar.  spending more time cultivating and developing some emerging ability I thought was left in the past that is coming back to me, bringing me back to a particular time period, as a situation in my waking life may be parallel to a situation from my past and my dream is providing a means of resolving how I've lost my direction and lost sight of my goals. I feel worried and insecure about the path I am taking and I am trying to reach out for support - looking for someone to lean on while still adjusting to a new situation in which the rules and conditions are ever changing. coming into contact with some aspect of my psyche or unconscious and recognizing a part of myself that was previously repressed or undeveloped.  change - identifying new facets of a relationship, taking it to a new level / in a new direction.  feeling helpless, dependant on others.  take charge of the situation.

Well, there's just about nothing there that doesn't  pertain to the situations going on in and around my life these days, so I actually found that exercise to be very centering, and even in a way reassuring.  It actually took some research and a bit of thought, which is why it took so much time to get to, but I'm glad I did.

♥

dramatic and sensational title indicating mind-blowing content

my FACE...it BURNS!!!  GAaahhh....WHY must I DO these things to myself?  Whatever.  I will survive this trauma, too.  Here's the scoop:

I went to the local apothecary to find some lovely salve for my patch of hideous and painful psoriasis that has lived on my ankle for untold centuries.  They said, "Why slather something ON it, when you can correct what's causing it?"  I said, "OKAY!"  So my new friend Josh, let's call him Josh to protect his innocence, immediately put me on boatloads of vitamin D, fish oil and probiotics.  Yaay.  I felt like I had been proactive about my health, yet realized later in the evening (probably about 20 minutes after I took the first D, when the Itch began, 7 days ago) that I was still out of salve.  Damn.  A day or so later, I headed to the Co-op where my friend who gave me the salve told me she bought it.  While finding the salve, a lovely Co-op staff member talked to me about doing a mercury cleanse, and I jumped right on board (she also sold me some stinging nettle, for the Itch).  The Itch started on my left wrist, has done a tour of my entire body, and seems to have come to rest in a burning patch of red welts on my face and neck.  My eyelids and ears are swollen.  I have been treating it with boiling hot showers, and periodic cold washes throughout the days.  It continues to burn.  Fucking Ow.  I haven't tried the stinging nettles (for the itch) yet, because the nice lady said it tastes bad, and I should mix it with juice.  I happen to be out of juice at the moment.  Lame, I know.  I shall endure the burning swell - and/or get some juice tomorrow...

On a lighter note, the scary patch of oozing red psoriasis on my ankle looks better than it has in awhile, or at least it does today.  I'm hoping the vitamins are working their way into my system as the heavy metals are working their way out, and that my face will clear up like my ankle in a day or two (hopefully not seven).  Fingers crossed.  In the meantime, it's time to go steam myself again, try for some relief by sweating the toxins out by force.  I've been pounding gallons of water, throwing down fiber and roughage, meditating on meanings.  Wondering at the totality of my need to release - to flush myself so completely that I can feel remade, 42 years new.  Wondering at how I could have gotten so far knowing so little, and how much I need to learn to be able to continue on.

My foot is too swollen to fit comfortably in a shoe, my face is on fire, and new eruptions are breaking the surface of my skin as I begin to scratch, but somehow, it's all part of what's supposed to be happening right when it's supposed to happen.  So, I'll be backing up to the nice dreams I was having a few weeks ago (a few weeks already?) and talking about the interesting things I thought about while searching for meanings in my subconscious.  Stay tuned for updates on the condition of my sandpaper face/skin ~ ♥