Sisterhood Unraveled

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The majority of my closest friends have been in my life for longer than most marriages last. We’re talking twenty years, on average, for each of my best friends. One, now officially former, best friend has spent the past six and a half years ignoring me. There was no disagreement between us, we’ve never had a legitimate fight. Absolutely nothing occurred to warrant her going radio silent. This, however, is her behavior whenever a new man enters her life. It’s utterly baffling, and such an immense turn-off that she truly believes she can come and go in the friendship as she pleases. I’m a person; not a revolving door at a hotel or airport! It’s unacceptable behavior. So, I’m going to write my feelings out of my system today. I’ve never blatantly outed a friend in such a manner, but it’s time to light a Yarhzeit candle to the friendship. For now it is time to remember, and move on.

Here’s a fact about me: When I’m done, I’m truly DONE. I find it sad that after all this time, she doesn’t know me well enough to know that I will cut her out of my life permanently. She doesn’t seem to realize that I will exterminate her like a fucking termite. She’s gotten far too comfortable in the friendship, and has forgotten what loyalty and true friendship are, and for that, there’s simply no forgiveness left in me. From here on out, I will refer to this person as Two-Face.

Two-Face and I became instant best friends from almost the first encounter. We said the same things, thought a lot of the same things, had a similar sense of humor, liked nearly all of the same things, and she stood up to people who challenged my role in her life many times. We were thick as thieves; always laughing hysterically for hours on end. She called me her sister, often saying I was closer to her in life than her own sister could ever be. It certainly seemed that way, because her sister isn’t anywhere near as good to her as I was from day one, but apparently she forgives her sister damn near anything and has an extremely short fucking memory. I’m more like an elephant. I might forget that I left tea in the kitchen for two hours, allowing it to brew too long and go bitter, but I do not forget the long-term. In fact, it’s all so sharp and clear, it’s eerie.

For me, referring to any friend as family is the highest compliment I can pay someone because I don’t consider my own relatives “true family” most of the time, except for those who actually stand by me, as opposed to doing so merely when it is convenient for them. I have family that will call me family when they please, as opposed to daily. That doesn’t fly with me, which is precisely why none of those people are my true family. I share bloodlines with them, but beyond that? Nothing. I would not give them a bodily organ if they needed it and I was the only match on the planet; I’d give it to the stranger whose family needed them instead. Through time, they’ve shown me how little they value me, so why should I hold them in high regard?

It’s important to be careful how you treat your friends. Friendship is a delicate thing. It can wax and wane like the moon, but it can also grow stronger daily. My best friends, those who’ve never left, seem to know me better than she does. I often thought she & I were closer, not just logistically speaking, but because we shared such a daily chunk of each other’s lives that the others often miss out on. I was wrong.

I have never dropped a friend for a man, or for another relationship. Not ever. I might be happier, perhaps a lot more playful and silly, but my friends play a significant role in my life. I do not exclude them simply because I am in a relationship. I don’t ditch them for months or years at a time, as if they are toys to be placed in a drawer and taken out when I choose. I find that disrespectful, and incredibly unhealthy. I am at my healthiest when I have my girls to turn to no matter what, because I’m genuinely a Girl’s Girl to the core. Women supporting other women, in good and bad times, is a remarkable thing. It is something I respect wholeheartedly. Don’t get me wrong; I will tell someone they’re wrong when they’re wrong, regardless of gender. I have absolutely no qualms about letting people know I have boundaries and human emotions, but I’d never intentionally hurt a friend. If you do something once and you ask for forgiveness; it’s a mistake. We all make mistakes, no one is perfect. If you repeatedly do something ugly; it’s a pattern and a choice. I do not have to accept choices that are continuously hurtful. I have enough issues; I don’t need my friends to emotionally cut me to pieces, nor will I allow it.

Two-Faced, now on marriage number three (Which, at the point, means you shouldn’t even bother. Unless you have children together, are planning on having children, or it’s for insurance purposes, that piece of paper is clearly ridiculous. That’s my OPINION, but I also know her so well that I know the second the relationship crumbles, she will be back at my feet, begging for forgiveness. Her absence will be blamed on HIM, not on HER.), was married when we first became friends. Her husband was utterly lovely…and she treated him like shit. My first impression was that it showed strength (No, I don’t think it’s okay to treat your partner like shit. I did not see it for what it was initially.), but over time I realized they never should have gotten married, that they only did so out of family pressure. They didn’t want the same things. They grew apart. When she called to tell me they were divorcing, I was heartbroken for her, and very protective. They stayed together for a period of time to get their finances in order, and parted ways amicably. They didn’t have any children, so it was a clean break. It was harder for their families than it was for them, because her family loved him and his family loved her. I’ll give her one thing; she’s great at fooling people.

She moved to another city and immediately started dating. He was re-married to someone else quickly after they were divorced, and was expecting his first child. She’d disappear for short periods of time between boyfriends. It was utterly obnoxious, and I’d never seen this side of her before. I started filtering myself in regard to my own relationships because I was somehow able to manage more than one person in my life at a time, never making excuses. I could keep my friends, be a part of my family, AND keep a guy in my life, without issue. Why was this such a problem for her?! In fairness, I’d soon discover it was a problem for a lot of women, and to this day, I will NEVER be able to wrap my mind around that. Relationships come and go, they’re not etched in stone, but friends should be forever. Where are you in life without at least one true friend?

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She came to visit me at one point and was an absolute bitch for roughly 85% of the visit. Perhaps I should be ranking that at a higher percentage. I had the hardest time not knocking her teeth out, because I’d be appalled if I ever behaved that way toward a friend, especially in their home, and worse, several times in front of their family. Nothing was good enough for her, but in actuality I know that she was acting out, which is sad because by doing so, she ruined much of the time we spent together. When a major snowstorm hit the day before she was supposed to leave, resulting in approximately a foot and a half of snow, you would have thought I’d caused it by her behavior and attitude towards me. I had paid for her plane ticket and treated her like family; and in turn, soon after the visit, she didn’t speak to me for almost a year. I was utterly THRILLED when I dropped her off at the airport. Her behavior was SO awful that I honestly didn’t care if I ever saw her again. After 9/11, she e-mailed me to make sure that my family & I were safe. Our friendship resumed at that point, she seemed genuinely remorseful. “It’ll never happen again, Lisa. I honestly don’t know how I survive without you.” Whatever.

Maybe six months after flying out to visit her, she stopped speaking to me once again. I called her at work one day, after she’d been ignoring me for weeks, because my mother was in the hospital and I didn’t think she was going to live. I was devastated and needed my best friend to talk to me down off a ledge. She actually got on the phone and told me “I have problems of my own, I don’t have time for yours!” and hung up on me. In hindsight, I NEVER should have allowed her back into my life after that move. I should have ripped her to shreds, but I didn’t. My mistake, because that won’t ever happen again.

Maybe the following year I got a letter explaining that she’d hit a rough patch soon after I left, and decided to move back home to be closer to her family, and again, the friendship resumed with her, once again, pleading for forgiveness. “It’ll never happen again, Lisa. I swear.”

But it did.She never truly apologized for anything, not once. 

She met husband number two, who was moved in very quickly (She should get U-Haul discounts on how quickly she moves men into and out of her life. I’ve never seen anything like it. Why can’t you just date like a normal person?!), and this guy hated me. He didn’t want her talking to me, and he didn’t want me visiting. She claims he made her choose between us, and we’d lose three years of friendship to a marriage where I am almost certain of his verbal abuse, but even more certain that the abused became the abuser. I feel she’s always had that in her; and I am sure that is why her first husband moved on so quickly to someone who was so drastically different in every way. Poor guy dodged one hell of a bullet! 😦

Her relationships are what they are. It’s her searching for love in all of the wrong places, because, despite being eternally selfish to her core, she does not have the capacity to truly love anyone, not even herself. She puts on a good show though, an Academy Award worthy performance, but it’s all incredibly fake. She is, in essence, the Phantom of The Opera in his mask. So filled with self-doubt and internal torment, the mask is a shield to keep people at bay, to hold everyone at arm’s length, until it suits her to get closer. She’d openly deny this, because she is so blinded, she cannot clearly see herself. I find it sad.

At her best, she believes she’s a decent person and wants to be better and grow, but she always gets in her own way. I’ve been friends with her long enough to see the good, the bad, and the ugly, so I am certain her relationship with me was borne out of needing someone stronger in her life to be friends with, because she has no other true friends who’ve seen it all with her. She has people she works with who only ever see the mask, but I’ve seen the pain. I’ve seen the roots, and I understand them, but I do not accept the fact that while she believes she’s “grown”, she’s truly still at square one. Other people who’ve gotten close have crossed boundaries and felt her wrath. There’s a reason I’m referring to her as Two-Face. It disturbs me that she can have two completely different sides to her and not own it. I know I have both darkness and light within me, and I am very open about that, but I am NOT two-faced. I am the same person at all times. I will always apologize if I’m brusque or bitchy without cause. Always. Sometimes I don’t hear how I sounded until 1-3 days later, but I’d rather apologize and own it than pretend to be something, or someone, I’m not. She thinks she’s the same way, but she most definitely is not.

Several years ago, I wrote her a letter and let her know precisely how I felt about the friendship and what she’d done/was doing to it. It took me almost a year to write it without being vicious, so even now, I’m trying to not be batshit crazy over how I’ve been treated. I laid it all out for her, and told her that this was unacceptable behavior, and that I knew for a fact she’d never allow me to treat her this way, so why was it acceptable for her to treat me so horribly? I even said we’ve never fought or argued, and that neither of us had done anything unforgivable (up to that point). I said it was all about communicating openly and honestly with each other, which we’d always done. I told her if she wanted out of the friendship, she need only say so.

However, here I sit six and a half years later and I find, I’m the one who wants out. I’m DONE. I was never anything but an amazing friend to her; loyal, devoted, present, caring, and generous. I loaned her money when she went through a couple of horrible years and had trouble making ends meet. I wanted to help her and keep her safe during that time because her family was refusing to do so (most especially, her sister, who is apparently a saint now.). I didn’t expect to be paid back, but when I think about the fact that it’s somewhere between $10,000-$15,000 owed, I do find myself wanting that money back. She always promised it would be paid back because it was a LOAN and not a gift. There’s a difference in the phrasing. I would already have sued her for it, if the state she resides in allowed people to be sued for small claims. It doesn’t, and I think we can all safely agree that the number is definitely NOT a “small claim”. I would even accept installment payments at this point. Unlike running out on a credit card; I am a human-being and I deserve to be paid back. I don’t care how you treat a billion dollar business, but I DO care how you treat me, the loyal friend who has stood by you when others, including your own family, have walked away or stepped back.

We were sisters, and I was always there for her no matter what. She didn’t just unravel the sisterhood, she broke it. She continued to hammer away at it until I said “Enough!” When I wrote that letter, I let her know it wasn’t an ultimatum, but that I wasn’t going to hold on to how I felt and allow it to continue to hurt me. She e-mailed me a month later and said she’d read the letter multiple times and would e-mail me in a few weeks after she thought things over. I never heard from her again. Knowing her; she lost the letter in her many moves since receiving it, and didn’t have the guts to get back in contact with me and face the issue. She can’t say she doesn’t have my e-mail address because I’ve had the same primary e-mail address for over ten years. Her cowardly behavior is another strike against her. You don’t let things slide and not apologize. It once took me eight years to apologize to a friend for potentially hurting her, but I apologized, and the apology was accepted. The friendship did not resume because, much like Two-Face, this person could not maintain a marriage, a family life, and a best friend. Apparently it requires a really high I.Q., multiple doctorates, and/or maybe some special gift I’m unaware of. I do NOT understand it, and I’m done trying to.

I hold many titles with ease, and Grace. Daughter, Granddaughter, Niece, Sister, Best Friend, Friend, Cousin, Writer, Editor. I hope to add other titles to that list, and I’m certain I left a few out because I’m focused on what I have to say, but my point is, I do maintain each title. I am still my parent’s only daughter and my Grandparent’s only Granddaughter, even in their physical absences. Two of my Grandparents have a second Granddaughter, and for that I apologize to them because she’s an embarrassment on every level as a human-being. I am my Aunt’s only niece and my brother’s only sister. I’m a best friend and friend AT ALL TIMES, not when it is convenient to be so. I try to be there for my cousins because I choose to have relationships with them, even when they’re not ideal relationships, even when the other person is difficult and makes me sorry I bother. I make an EFFORT. I’m imperfect, and in that imperfection, I am unique and solid.

When I think about Two-Face I am reminded of good times, of laughter, of travels, of so many hilarious moments and shared thoughts and secrets. I will take her secrets to the grave, but I will not allow her to harm me any further. She is the only person who, in the role of a friend, managed to turn something unbreakable into something broken. Her deep desire for self-destruction isn’t going to take me down with her. She is sitting somewhere now, possibly believing that she ended the friendship on her terms or that the revolving door with remain revolving, perhaps not even giving it a second thought. Ultimately, I am the one cutting her off and out. Permanently. I am not going to be vicious or vengeful. I am not going to allow myself to feel the hurt, anger, or utter betrayal a second longer than I already have. This, however, will take time; for I’m so angry as I write this, I’m shaking.

I am not going to cut myself off from who I am as a person, and what I have to offer others. I am going to continue being myself. I will continue to be intuitive and mindful of new people. I won’t allow anyone in my life when there are red flags of warning. I’m not going to stop being a loyal, damn fine friend to people. I am not going to allow this to turn me into a bitch, or allow myself to think that I deserve to be treated like that. I know better.

Friendships aren’t gifted to us so that we may irrevocably damage and break them. They are gifted to us in order to support us through thick and thin, and they are indeed a gift because true friendship is so unbelievably rare. I realize I am a rarity in how I handle my relationships with others. No matter how bad my life may be, and believe me when I say that it isn’t easy, I’d prefer to continue being the kind of friend I’ve always been to people.

She may have hurt me, but she did not break me. She did not win a damn fucking thing. When all is said and done, she will be as alone as she was when she came into my life; a broken child in need of a place where she belonged. I gave her that, and I never judged. I’m still not judging, but I am saying “No more.” I’m placing a wall made of concrete and steel between her and I from here on in. She can get through electronically, providing I deign to open an e-mail from her, but she cannot reach my heart or soul ever again.

There’s only so much damage I’ll allow. Breaking the bonds of sisterhood is on the list of “ultimate betrayals” for any female friend. She was given the choice to repair the damage, and instead, she chose something else instead of realizing she could have both. She chose selfishness. I am not selfish. In fact, on many levels we are polar opposites. Perhaps that is why our friendship was so incredibly close and was then twisted into something ugly by her. She doesn’t know that there’s no going back, that my ability to accept is gone. I feel sorry for her. She always comes back, but this time, she has no idea who the other person is that she’ll be faced with. I’ve changed for the better. Once I cut you off, there’s nothing you can say or do to get back in. Fool me once; shame on you. Fool me twice and you’d better find another planet to reside on.

Interestingly enough, the last time I was this done with a person; it was a man. He’s in town this weekend and all I can think is “Motherfucker, don’t you DARE darken my door.” That I’d put them both into the same category today is interesting, because that’s how she & I became friends.

Never Again. Done means done. Friendship is an ultimate strength, NOT a weakness. Other people have stepped up in your absence and replaced you; something I once thought would be unheard of. Stick that in your bitch pipe and smoke it.

May life provide you with precisely what and who you deserve. I am off to light a candle and say my goodbyes. If you get in touch, expect a fucking bill.

copyright © 2016 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

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It’s Amazing

It’s amazing how quickly life shifts. You think you know your place in this world, and the direction in which you are going. Then, often suddenly and unexpectedly, a letter, phone call, e-mail, or some form of communique shatters the floor beneath your feet. You’re left standing and asking yourself “Why?”, or in my case “Again?” There’s only so much I can handle in a day, but I’ve been dealing with horrible shit for the past eighteen years. When the hell does a person catch a break?! In this respect, I am trying to remain intensely positive because negativity doesn’t help situations one cannot control. The fact that I knew this would happen a few years ago is what upsets me the most. Sometimes, I hate the gift of premonition, and other times I am grateful for it.

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On September 12th, I hurt my back. The pain has progressively worsened. I am terrified to seek emergency treatment due to the “war on opiates” and how badly pain patients are being treated everywhere in the United States. Massachusetts is no different. Every single day I have to hear about people overdosing in various parts of the state. Not on prescription pain medication, but on heroin. How is that MY fault, as a pain patient?! A representative for someone running for State Representative for this district was going door-to-door last Saturday, and specifically asked to speak with me. Obviously they’re looking for the millennial vote. 😉

Her first question was “How can Jen insure your vote on November 8th?” Boy, did she come to the right house. We spoke for about thirty minutes regarding Jen Migliore‘s policy for the opiate issue in this state. I said “Until she works to make sure pain patients get treated like patients, instead of drug addicts, she can’t count on my vote. Until she addresses it and does something to put addicts in a separate category from actual patients, she can’t depend on my vote.” We talked about other issues too, but I made sure this one was front and center. She assured me that if Jen doesn’t call me personally, someone on her campaign staff will. I’d actually be surprised to see her at the front door again because she’s already personally been here once, and that was to get her petition to run for office signed. She was a little too much the “made-up politician” for me when I met her, but it was brief and I will try not to judge a book by its cover, because all too often I am judged for “not looking sick”. She’s 25 years old and running for State Representative, and that takes guts. Is it terrible to say I want to re-do her makeup and make her look more her age?! :/

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A few days ago a woman stared at me on the street and said “Oh my G-d! What a beautiful girl you are!” I was the only person in a full block radius she could have been talking to, but it startled me. If she hadn’t been old enough to be my Grandmother, I might have believed her. But then I got home (barely) and looked in the mirror. Not only don’t I “look sick”, but I actually looked amazing, for a change. I almost, ALMOST, indulged in a selfie. The first time I took one was about two weeks ago. I sent it to my brother who said “Holy shit! You look so different.” I said “Different bad or different good?” and he said “Good. You look SO GOOD.” My brother never compliments me, so I know it was a genuine reaction. I then sent the same photo to my best friend in Germany and she said I look absolutely beautiful. I suspect cataracts. 😉 For me, it’s a huge issue for others that I “don’t look sick”. My body, however, begs to fucking differ. 😦

But I digress… I have been off of prescription pain medication since 2012. I was the kind of patient who could make fifty Percocet last for two months, or longer, but the majority of my pain medication that I’d refilled each month (because my insurance paid 100% of the cost) was stolen by a family member in late 2012, someone who went through my private things and took thousands of Ultram and about hundred Percocet I had legally obtained for “bad days”, NOT for someone to get high off of. I was enraged when I discovered all of my medicine gone. I legitimately had the ration out what little was leftover for “bad days”. I wanted the person who did it to die; because they couldn’t respect my private space, my private things, or the fact that I am a pain patient that needed that medication to get through every bad day I experience. All of that “back-up medication” was in case I got cut-off from a physician, insurance, proper treatment, etc. Instead, it went to someone who was drug-seeking, and who, to this day, is still apologizing for it because I will never let them forget how evil what they did was.

Four years later and I have exactly two doses of Vicodin left for “bad days”. One pill that I cut in half in order to have two doses. I am in such agony as I sit here typing this that I desperately want one of those doses, but in the back of my mind I know I have roughly nine Aleve in my system. I also know that the pain is so intense, the Vicodin won’t work. 😦 If I had taken it when the pain was still bearable, it would have worked, but it also would have worn off by now. I shouldn’t have to be afraid to seek treatment, but I am. If pain management clinics aren’t doing their job (and there is a long wait to get in, providing you get referred to one.), and rheumatologists are now refusing Fibromyalgia patients and telling them to see neurologists, then where the hell do I go?! Do I pray for a solid PCP and hope they’ll give me Ultram and Flexeril to get through all the “bad days”, or do I hope for more?

My feeling is this: The last three states I’ve lived in royally fucked up my medical history. Each state has, over time, shredded my files instead of turning them over to me, which I feel is every patient’s right, even if we have to pay for the photo copies. My concussion history, which began at a very young age, is non-existent on paper! It makes me look like a liar, and I’d never lie about concussion or post-concussion syndrome, which I still have. There are maybe three doctors who still have files on me, but no one else does, and that means I have to start at square one.

This means going to a PCP here and not saying I have Fibromyalgia. I’ll declare my other health issues, like the migraines, but I am not using the dreaded “F word” with a new doctor until he/she mentions it first. It means letting them run every single test in the book and being officially re-diagnosed. It also means immense stress because I KNOW I’m suffering. I KNOW I’m in pain. I KNOW my blood work does not show any other auto-immune disease, but in the back of my mind I have the “What ifs”. We’ve all had these moments. “What if it’s actually Lyme disease and I’ve gotten false negatives my entire life?!” or “What if it IS Lupus or MS?” Of course, none of those other diagnoses make an ounce of sense; not one. I don’t want to waste my time going to physical therapy (I already know it doesn’t work) or anything nonsensical. This is less about medication and more about the correct treatment methods.

The last neurologist I saw told me Botox for migraines was likely my only remaining option for now, so I need a new neurologist to agree with that and get it approved. I’m okay with needles if it works for me. I’m okay with MRI’s, X-Rays, blood work, etc., so long as I see results in my treatment methods. New MRI’s and X-Rays will show the damage to my spine, which explains much, but who knows what else it will show? I don’t care, so long as it means I am getting the correct treatment.

I have zero faith in the medical community. I’ve been treated here once in an emergency and the Urgent Care staff was amazing, but I had injured my eye and the only thing I was given, despite being in pain for months, was antibiotic gel to put into the eye multiple times per day. I’m still using it, because I don’t believe my eye is fully healed. There are days when it looks SO bad that I worry, and while my vision is not any more impaired than usual, it’s disconcerting. That’s okay though; I need a vision exam ASAP any way. There’s nothing like new glasses and new contact lenses. 🙂 Perhaps I’m the only one who gets excited about such things.

I’m sick and tired of the stress pain patients are put through, and the scrutiny of whether or not we “look sick”. No, I don’t “look sick”. I have seen the faces of other Fibro patients and was absolutely mortified. It made me question so much about myself, and not in a good way.

I have blank cop face most of the time (it helps me avoid wrinkles. Well, that, water, genetics, and SPF 50.), and yes, I wear makeup. I don’t do it for other people; I do it for me. It’s an artistic skill-set that I find enjoyable. It doesn’t mean I’m in less pain than one hundred other people, and I’m not going about to compare and contrast because it is NOT a competition, but when I look in the mirror, I realize why I get treated like my pain isn’t real. My eyes are not dead; they sparkle. My skin is healthy and looks good, with or without makeup, and even my bad hair days are still relatively decent. I don’t look exhausted, even when I am. I consider most of this genetics and the fact that I take really good care of my skin, but it makes me feel even worse to know I don’t “look sick”. Again, it’s not a competition, but I am judged for this harshly.

My body is filled to the brim with pain, but I don’t “look sick”. Would I say that to a cancer patient wearing lipstick? NO. However, unless a person tells you what they suffer from, you just plain don’t know what their battle is in life.

It would be nice to live in a world where we judge less on appearances and took people at their word. Of course, Donald Trump is also running to be President of the United States. Perhaps I’ve landed on the wrong fucking planet! 😦

copyright © 2016 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

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Cat is almost three years old! My poor little boo isn’t feeling so hot. 😦 She looks the way I feel.

No Matter How Evolved We Think We Are

“No matter how evolved we think we are, when we are caught up in a terrible tragedy we don’t just sit around wondering what lessons we can learn from it — we are just simply holding on for dear life, hoping we can survive. Tragedy arrives in a blur, often accompanied by hopelessness, feigned calm, and a fog-like numbness that feels like a surreal dream. The last thing we may need when in moments of tremendous trial is empty reassurances that everything will be okay. Often, it most certainly will not be okay. What it will likely be though is different, and you will be different too. It’s better to just accept that things aren’t ever going to be the same again. As for all the lessons, sometimes we need a break from learning lessons. Sometimes we just need time and space alone; we can always learn later. In the crossroads of a painful crisis what we always need is a moment to breathe, pray, and accept our fate with dignity. This is how we steady ourselves against the great trials of life; quietly, not always bravely, but deep down in solitude, where we find our strength to survive.”

Bryant McGill

Depressing, yes, but I think it’s a solid quote, so I am sharing it.

The Official Rules Of Lisa: Part One

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Prior to the full moon, people are often lining up to start fights with me. If they aren’t outright starting fights (By the way, if you do attempt to start a fight via text message, e-mail, or Facebook messenger, you’re nothing more than a punk ass bitch.), they are rude, combative, or just plain bitchy. I don’t have time for that level of crap and I have even less time for drama, so I’ve made a list of official rules for people to understand my basically non-existent tolerance levels.

  • I am NOT a morning person. If you want to be met with sugary cheerfulness or anything more than a grunt or a mild “Good Morning.”, I am NOT your girl. Go to a bakery for the sugar. Come back around 5:00 PM when I am usually quite civilized.
  • When I have a migraine and you make any kind of noise within a half-foot radius of me, I have contemplated killing you and/or throwing heavy objects in your general direction. Blasting music or the radio at decibel levels that match a whale (Google it.), vacuuming, slamming doors, raising your voice, cooking or preparing anything with a strong smell, fucking with the temperature so I can’t breathe, etc., is pushing my buttons. Every single sound is like a freight train moving through my skull (Even my cats’ purrs nauseate me, and I LOVE them to bits.) and you’re not helping matters. I may not have killed you yet, but I’m thinking about it long and hard. I’ve already prepared my insanity plea.
  • When I am in physical agony due to a Fibromyalgia flare-up, which, much like a migraine, is completely out of my control, please don’t ask me how my day was when you can see the pain etched on my face. If I have managed to get out of bed and cook a meal, realize the gift that is and don’t yap at me. Take insane demands somewhere else until I am no longer suffering the effects of brain fog and can lance you with the truth, as opposed to your version of the truth.
  • I internally laugh out loud (Okay, I cackle with laughter.) when people offer to cook for me. Honestly! Order a pizza because I am silently judging you for not being as good a cook as I am. Yes, this might make me a terrible person (I don’t care if it does, really. Hell and I are well acquainted and Lucifer has an iron-clad restraining order.), but I hate eating things I can’t taste or that have questionable ingredients in them. It drives me insane. It’s nice of you to offer, but let’s not joke about serious matters. #FoodieThatCooks
  • If I am having difficulties sleeping, do we really need to point out the obvious? No, we do not. Insomnia is not a choice. Keep it moving.
  • I am direct and honest about what I suffer from and to what extent. Don’t ever question it. It’s not on the table for discussion, EVER. I’d never question someone saying they weren’t feeling well because quite frankly, it’s fucking rude. I’ve never said “It’s just laryngitis. You’re fine.” or “It’s just a cold, get over yourself.”
  • I’ve NEVER used a migraine as an excuse to not do something. I have NEVER used Fibromyalgia as an excuse not to do something. Are they legitimate reasons I cannot function a great deal of the time? Yes, but they are not “excuses”. If you insinuate such, there is something fundamentally wrong with you. Live in my shoes for six months, suffer this pain every single day, and we’ll see who’s making excuses then, okay?
  • Precisely WHO do you think you’re screwing with?!
  • Sometimes people develop verbal diarrhea. Bottled up craziness comes flying out of their mouth, as you watch on in morbid disbelief. You’re not sure whether to get a hose and clean them off or to just let them spew like a psychopath. If you behave this way around me and I walk away, you’re not “winning the argument”, because there isn’t one. I’m not “hiding from you”, either. I am choosing to be the adult and walk away until you have showered away your psychosis because murder is still illegal in this country and orange is NOT the new black.
  • Interestingly enough, the people who tend to behave like this are also the same people who never hear the crap they say to you. They are “perfect”, “innocent”, and “absolute angels”; according to them. They’re full of kindness and compassion. They’re full of something all right, but it’s neither kindness nor compassion. Save your raging vitriol for therapy because I will not accept that kind of treatment. I don’t care who you think you are.
  • One of my official rules is that I am supremely loyal, until you do something to terminate that loyalty. If you’re talking about me behind my back, verbalizing issues you have regarding me without speaking to me first (Venting is one thing, but NOT when it gets back to me.), or you’ve gone as far as to put those words in print, thinking I won’t find out about it; THINK AGAIN. The CIA’s got NOTHING on a Scorpio woman. I have ways of finding things out that will downright terrify you.
  • Don’t say things you cannot take back. I’m listening, and there are a lot of things I will NEVER be able to un-hear because they’re unforgivable. In the heat of the moment we have all said something unpleasant, rude, or wrong to someone else, usually a loved one. One of the things I respect about myself is my ability to apologize when I hear how I sound, which is usually quickly. If you cannot accept an apology, which is a basic human response that says “Hey, I’m not perfect either.”, then there’s something wrong with you. #1- We’re not all psychotically obsessive compulsive about the small stuff and #2- You have no right to judge me unless you are 1000% flawless. No one is, not a single living being on this planet, so accept the apology like a human-being. You’re not a flawless diamond, and neither am I.
  • Being truly genuine is rare, but it’s precisely how I am. I don’t need a pat on the back for doing something nice, or for doing the right thing(s). I simply do them. If you are keeping score, doing something nice only to throw it back in someone’s face at a later date, or anything else that is blatantly disingenuous, then do everyone a favor and don’t do anything because it is immensely hurtful to have anyone try to keep score like that. If you’re heartless, by all means, keep on being heartless. It’s your prerogative. I’ll pray for you.
  • The world doesn’t revolve around you, or me.
  • If you are going to be fake, please don’t do it around me. I don’t have the time, patience, or the inclination to be phony. Life is short, and it’s getting shorter every minute.
  • If you’re angry about something, USE YOUR WORDS. Being violent (ie: Throwing things at people) and nasty (verbally) isn’t acceptable when you’re a toddler, so why should it be acceptable for an adult?
  • I do not forgive the unforgivable. I find that incredibly unhealthy. And I NEVER forget. That’s not stupid, that’s wisdom.
  • If you want respect, try giving it. It’s something that has to be earned.
  • My personality is different from pretty much anyone you’ve ever known; as it should be. Dry wit is not rude or sarcastic. If I’m being sarcastic, I’ll be the first to say so, but don’t assume that everything I think or say is sarcastic or rude. If you cannot appreciate my presence or sense of humor; by all means, fuck off.
  • I don’t have to be YOU in order to live my life. Once again, life is short. I’m seeking happiness, not another source of abuse.
  • Communicate. Appreciate. Validate. And stop being a bitch/asshole. It’s unattractive.

copyright © 2016 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

Strength Through Adversity

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Week two of this 10 level Fibro flare. Each day I have said “Tomorrow.” Yesterday I said “Self-care and work.”, because walking was out of the question in terms of pain, and even when the edge was taken off, I was concerned about further damage.

Waking up at 1:00 a.m. two days in a row with a migraine and excruciating hip pain is NOT doing much for my mood. I did about 10% of the proofreading job yesterday, and called it an early day. I am grateful it’s under 62,000 words, or I’d be furious with myself based on how hard I am working. I have a deadline to meet and I need to get this done. The sooner, the better. Brain cells died off yesterday. 😦

I’m struggling right now with the pain, with what my brother is going through. Another life-threatening infection, another stay in the hospital. More surgery scheduled for tomorrow morning. I am devastated and heartbroken, worried that my brother won’t make it through the year, and I am withdrawing from negative people who don’t want good things for me. If you treat me like a real person, I will be there for you through thick & thin, but when you treat me like an animal and/or a personal maid, it won’t take long before I get sick and tired of it.

The best was the phone call I received yesterday morning from a friend, asking if I could “pop down to New York real quick for the next week because her babysitter backed out and she has to work New York Fashion Week”. She hasn’t spoken to me in months (six, to be exact), but calls out of the blue for a favor. It’s not even a small favor, it’s the favor of entertaining a five year old for a week in New York City, as if I’m five minutes away. I very nearly responded by saying “She should be in school.” (which I firmly believe) and hanging up. What’s the point of enrolling your child in a nearly $40,000 a year private school if she is going to be missing a month traveling with you from New York to London, and then on to Milan and Paris? She could have stayed home and remained on schedule. I sat here, shaking my head no, and finally said “This time, I can’t do it.” I did NOT elaborate as to why or explain my feelings. It was as if I’d said NOTHING though, because then she asked if I’d be attending her 20th wedding anniversary party next year. One) I have not received an invitation; this is the first I’m hearing about it. Two) I wasn’t invited to the wedding, despite the fact that we’ve been friends since we were kids. Three) Maybe not. If I’m only good enough to be present for certain things and I’m not important enough for you to return my calls or text messages in a timely fashion (I don’t care who you are, no one is THAT busy, unless they’re off saving lives or have been deployed overseas.), please don’t expect me to jump when you DO deign to call. What little of a life I have, despite the fact that it makes me fucking miserable, is mine and I’m not a servant to be called in at the last-minute.

I am dead tired and would really like to sit and cry. However, I have to be strong for my brother and do what I can to help him get through another hurdle. Despite all the horrible shit I am going through, no one is cutting me open in an operating room (They’re simply doing it verbally.) and giving me bad news on that level. I pray he comes through this healthier, and I pray no family ever has to go through what he & I have been through over the past year.

I will be back as soon as I am able. For now, it’s back to the grindstone. G-d Help Me!

copyright © 2016 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

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I’m legitimately tired of pausing and not reacting the way people deserve.

What The Hell Was I Thinking?!

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Last month, a client booked me for the first two weeks of September. Upon receiving her manuscript two and a half weeks early (She genuinely seemed to think that was okay.), I put my foot down and said I would not start until September 5th since she had not booked an earlier spot. She, surprisingly, agreed. I’m not being paid enough to do all that she’s demanding, and I mean it when I say the list keeps growing, but I made a commitment and I’ll honor it. Pray for my eyeballs and back, please. You know where I’ll be for the next two weeks. 😦

Normally I don’t mind proofreading and providing notes for someone, but this time I realize it’s the money that’s insulting me. It’s not befitting of my experience and what I bring to the table. The client  hired nine other people, along with me. In my opinion I find it more cohesive to work with one proofreader. Conflicting thoughts and opinions is best left for your beta readers, not a proofreader. Demanding pages upon pages of notes when you’re not even paying my hourly rate for the entire job is enough to enrage me. However, it’s 100% my fault. I agreed to do it, knowing in advance that the money might cover 26 cans of cat food or a tiny amount of food for a human. Oh, how the mighty have fallen. 😦

If you’re an inexperienced high school or college student, this would be a little play money or Ramen noodle money for you. For an experienced adult, it is insulting, but again, 100% my fault. I have no room to complain or bitch, despite doing so, because I agreed to do it knowing what was involved, partially. Please, someone schedule me for a brain MRI, stat. I want to make sure it’s still in there.

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I am in the midst of a week-long flare-up, after spending less than a week walking over fifteen miles. That’s nothing for most people; fifteen miles. They don’t even know they walk approximately ten miles a day (this is considered the national average of walking a person does daily, but a lot of my friends have told me they do the bare minimum, which means I actually move more than they do!), but for a Fibromyalgia patient, walking fifteen miles over the course of five days is the equivalent of running a marathon or winning Olympic Gold. It’s impossibly painful at this advanced stage, and yet I somehow managed it. I have yet to claim my reward. 😉

Between migraines and the pain in my back; I’ve found it immensely difficult to sleep. I’m struggling with my allergies as well, so all of these things keep me awake when I want to be asleep and make me sleepy when I want to be awake. Melatonin and/or my allergy meds have provided up to 12 straight hours of sleep some days. My body always goes through this before the Fall Equinox, but a lot of this began in August, so anyone who thinks Global Warming is a joke is wrong.

And so, I sit here on Labor Day, isolated from the world. I’ve felt alone most of my life, truly alone, but this year it’s worse. There’s no one to watch baseball with. There’s no one to ask if I am making hot dogs or hamburgers, if I’m making fries, or inquire as to whether or not I got pie. Being intentionally isolated by family and friends is incredibly hurtful, but feeling like I have to withdraw even harder to keep myself in tact is worse.

I have spoken to one friend via Facebook messenger, another via e-mail, and received a few text messages inquiring about my health. The only genuine concern I’ve received today, the only genuine love, has been from Cat and Kitten. Of course, Kittens’s love is a continuous thing, growing each day. She chooses to spend time with me when she could be off doing silly cat things or sleeping. Cat, not so much. She has been better these past few days; bringing me toys and giving affection. She is being sweet, which is her general disposition. Perhaps she has felt much as I’ve felt these many months; unhappy. The only difference is, she is given love and care every single day. I’ve never abandoned her. I’m allowed to feel less than human, and what’s worse, I’ve been told I am less than human. It’s a wonder I haven’t killed anyone yet.

Ultimately, there are worse things in life than someone trying to be cruel and failing. There are people who have lost their homes and everything they own due to floods and fires, there are people who are homeless through no fault of their own, people who have died or been injured in earthquakes, and there are people who are sick and dying because no one gives a damn. “Band-Aids don’t fix bullet holes.”; this is one of the most honest phrases ever written and yet, I have continually found it to be true. Far too many people think a politely worded lie will mend the damage done. I’m certain I live in a world where things get more bizarre by the day.

If you are in the States, I wish you a happy unofficial end to the summer. If you’re not here, be glad, for we’ve got a maniac running for President and crazy shit happening on the daily. Nothing is as simple as it seems. Nothing is ever so cut and dried.

I, for one, will be glad to see this day end, and hopefully everyone dealing with the remnants of the tropical storm is safe and sound.

Merry meet, merry part, and merry meet again. 🙂

copyright © 2016 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

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Life is short. Make a fucking effort.

August Ends

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It’s no secret; I HATE summer. Unbearable heat, humidity, endless days of sun; they simply weren’t meant for someone like me. Fall is my favorite season (Two guesses why.), but Winter is a close second. That is why I am relieved to say goodbye to August and hello to the cooler temperatures ahead.

This year has been HELL. On some levels, I’ve made great strides and on other levels, I feel stuck, trapped, and genuinely unhappy. I look forward to new people, new achievements, new goals, new forms of happiness, new successes, and pretty much all things NEW. And while that means delving into my past and ridding myself of a lot of negativity, I am all right with that. I am all right with the hard labor that will involve, so long as it opens up a new, fresh chapter that can be lighter, fresher, and ultimately, happier. I don’t always like change when it’s forced upon me, as my recent changes have been, but I look forward to making lemon drop martinis out of the lemons I’ve been handed. If I look at it any differently, it will only continue to traumatize and harm me, so I am doing my best to place a positive spin on it, because to go in reverse is not how you move on to better things.

A lot of people in life settle. I’ve heard way too many people say they married someone “because they asked”, not “because I genuinely love him/her”, but “because they asked”. That’s not reason enough for me, or I would have been married in junior high school! Yes, that’s when the majority of my marriage proposals began, and I’m not ashamed to admit it.

I may not believe in marriage at the moment, but I don’t ever want to settle for things I’m not happy with, or settle for someone who I don’t fully believe in. That’s like going to your favorite restaurant and ordering something off the menu that’s passable, but something you know won’t make you happy in terms of choice. Just thinking about it makes it sour in my mind. I won’t settle in any aspect of my life. Perhaps it’s why I am so challenging and difficult. I know who I am and what I’m capable of, and when people try to box me into their thought process or desire for me to be their vision of who I should be, I’m always going to rail against it. I don’t have to be perfect for anyone, I just have to be able to live with myself.

This month has taught me who is truly important in my life. As usual, the numbers diminish a little, and that’s okay. As people show you their true colors, you’re able to see everything and everyone a lot more clearly. That’s not necessarily a bad thing. It may upset you or piss you off initially, but ultimately, assholes and idiots, on occasion, help you make big choices. Life is a labyrinth of learning. Knowledge is power, and I feel like people forget that sometimes.

I move into September focused on my health, on my brother’s health and helping him as much as humanly possible (I am in the process of setting the fundraiser up. A detailed post will accompany it for those who didn’t read my previous post about feeling like this was the right thing to do for him. If I wasn’t deeply concerned, I’d never do something like this, but I am.), and on trashing the old, keeping as many good memories as possible, and learning that not everything needs to be held on to forever.

We come into this world naked and crying. We leave this world alone, even if we are surrounded by loved ones. None of our worldly possessions can go with us, though I’ve seen many people try. So, take stock of your life and don’t forget to look after loved ones to the best of your ability. Sometimes it’s a struggle, but it would be far worse if you had to live with regrets for the things you did not do when you had the chance to be present.

If I didn’t have loved ones and responsibilities, I’d have checked out a long time ago. I will never lie about that, because it’s always in the back of my mind, but today, I am trying to focus on being rinsed clean of all the bullshit and drama.

Here’s to a new month! Goodbye, August. I am happy to see you go. Wishing you all blessings, good health, and happiness for the month ahead. 🙂

copyright © 2016 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

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Today Doesn’t Feel Like A Monday

Hello everyone! I haven’t been around much of late, and for that I am sorry, even though I know apologies aren’t necessary.

I am dealing with a family crisis and quite frankly, I’ve lost my temper and I’m one of the most unpleasant people at the moment to deal with (not that I’m all that pleasant on other days ending in Y). I’m about 0.1 seconds from utterly snapping. I’d love to be able to blame that on PMS, but the truth is, my first reaction to things isn’t always the perfect reaction, which is why I like to step away from a lot of situations, if I can, before I react. When they say stress is the leading killer, whoever “they” are, they’re right. I thought I was going to have a stress-induced heart attack last night. 😦

After apologizing to the person I yelled at, I realized that I truly see the world differently than others. I’m not a “There are so many good people in the world.” kind of person. I don’t think I’ve ever looked at the world, even as a child, with that level of naiveté. I see evil walking around disguised as “people”, and on occasion you come across a few angels looking out for others, but on a whole, this world is not chock full of good in every direction one turns in. If it were merely me, I would keep on keeping on, but when it affects someone close to me; I go ape-shit.

For those who’ve asked: Yes, I did find my brother. He got in touch with me late Tuesday morning and explained what happened, as well as his nearly two-week absence. I would like to thank the Falls Township Police Department for their assistance and to the cop that assisted me personally, who was 100% nicer to me when I called to let him know I’d found my brother. His entire demeanor changed after that, and he told me to get in touch with him if I ever need anything in the future. That was a nice moment. Not many cops send you an e-mail and include all of their contact information in case you ever need something in the future. Major points were scored for that one.

On the downside, finding my brother “safe & sound”, sort of, didn’t even last a full three and a half days before something truly horrible happened, something I’ve been concerned about for months now. All I can do in this moment is be supportive and help him get medical care because his heart isn’t good, despite having had bypass surgery last year. He is in pre-kidney failure and requires a supplement to help it (I’m not 100% sure that even he knows what it does or doesn’t do. I just know that it’s expensive and he needs it.), and his insurance chose the absolute worst time to cut him off. He is now without much-needed medication (roughly 10-12 prescriptions that must be taken daily. He has already been without these drugs long enough for damage to re-occur.) that keep his heart functioning and other things at a normal rate. I have no idea when the insurance company will start paying for his care again. Because of this, I will be posting an online fundraiser ASAP for emergency assistance. Every penny will go towards his medication and doctors visits until he has insurance backing him again. Unfortunately, they’re not very speedy, it took several months for it to be processed last time, and despite reaching out to pharmaceutical companies and various charities, no one is willing to assist him with what he needs, mostly because, despite the older ones being generics, a lot of these medications add up. This is life or death. I don’t ask for myself, but I do ask that if you can help in any way, however large or small, it is going to someone who truly needs it. If the link doesn’t go up this week (My mind can barely concentrate on the paint on the wall, much less the logistics required for this sort of thing, so bear with me.) and you are able to contribute something immediately, I will provide you with the direct information if you leave a comment or e-mail me. If you require more information, just ask. I won’t violate his privacy, but I can elaborate for those who are afraid of being scammed (Unfortunately, this does happen and I am all too aware of it. I think that is disgusting, because so many people are truly in need. I’ve never understood the scamming mentality.). For my brother, I am willing to swallow my pride and ask for much-needed help.

And now, I am going to try catching some desperately needed rest because today really IS a Monday and I can’t afford to lay in bed all day. Naturally, I wish I had better things to say as well, but I’m doing my best.

I will be back soon, and hopefully get the fundraiser going the second my foggy brain allows it.

Best,

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copyright © 2016 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

Chained

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Part of falling apart means picking up the pieces, even if “the pieces” are, in essence, yourself. It’s not an easy step. In fact, it is being made far worse for me by external forces; all fighting to control me because something is lacking in their lives.

When you are forced to rebuild your life, it simply doesn’t happen overnight. It takes time. Unless you happen to hit Powerball or the Mega Millions, it is a lengthy process. Nothing is immediate, because nothing is handed to you.

You do not intend to diminish in capacity health-wise, but even the healthiest person needs time to fall apart and put themselves back together. You don’t intend for things to wait, and wait, and wait some more, but quite frankly; you’re fucking SICK and you know your limitations. Unless people are willing to be physical participants, they can talk ’til the cows come home, it doesn’t help matters.

No matter how many times I ask for help, compassion, or simply to be treated like a human-being, I am met with questions and excuses. The underlying questions are often unspoken, but I can hear projected thoughts. It’s a rare gift, so don’t direct a thought at me unless you want it heard and/or dissected.

Over the past few months the projected questions have been, “Is she really as sick as she says she is?”, which questions my character and is NOT okay. I’ve never made up an illness in my life. As a child, right into my teens, my mother would take me to the doctor immediately, no matter what. If ever I thought I was trying to get a day off from school, as children often do, I’d always end up in the doctor’s office. Every single time, something was legitimately wrong. Not once did the doctor say “Oh, she’s fine. Maybe she just didn’t want to go to school today.” Nope. It was always “It’s a good thing you brought her in, she has a double ear infection and what looks like strep throat.” or “She’s running a high fever and has bronchitis.” There were other things that were far worse. My body would clearly speak up to be by saying “Today is not your day.” and when you’re young, all you can really say is “I don’t feel good.”, and explain what is physically hurting. As an adult, you can explain things much more clearly, providing someone is listening and gives a damn. I woke up one morning on day two of a killer migraine and wrote “This is not how I typically feel during a migraine. I do not feel like myself. This has never happened before.” I keep notes for each migraine in the migraine app I use, which helps me track my headaches and pain better. I keep notes in my food journal, because it helps me process information about my overall health, and whether something affected me on a dietary level or not.

Another recent projection: “She looks fine, so she must be.” Do I REALLY?

“She did A, B, and C today, why can’t she also do D?” Because there is a grand conspiracy, that’s why. <rolls eyes> It’s important for me to know my limitations on any given day. If I can lift 100 pounds one day and cannot get out of bed for a week, then that is the price I have to pay for lifting 100 pounds. It’s not selective, and no one has the right to judge it.

There are so many things projected at me, but it’s far worse when said behind my back. If you cannot say something to my face, you’re a fucking coward. I don’t care who you think you are, that’s the truth. Two, be careful what you say to my face. I may not respond, but I am cataloging every.fucking.thing until D-Day. You are dealing with a time bomb, and you don’t want to be around when I finally lose my temper. I do a LOT to keep it in check. I try very hard to filter my brain-to-mouth ratio, so as not to offend people who don’t know me very well, but I’ve been biting my tongue for far too long. Someone is going to get hurt when I finally stop biting my tongue and cease holding back, and it’s not going to be me. I often say the pen is mightier than the sword, but my words are my sword and shield. What other people can do with nonsense to dredge up drama, I will do with truth. People tend not to like that, but I prefer to be myself. If you’re looking to commit suicide via words, then step into my office. I’m happy to use everything in my arsenal.

I have learned not to lower myself to the level of others to give in to their desire to be hateful and/or cruel. Once I’ve seen your true face, that’s about as real as it gets. You’ll never be able to hide behind anything ever again, because I’ve seen you. I know what you are. I may keep it to myself, but I usually have a legitimate reason for it.

When you behave a certain way, this is what comes to my mind: “Quod me alit, me extinguit” which means “What feeds me extinguishes me.” Another one that comes to mind is “Quod me nutrit me destruit” which generally gets interpreted as “What motivates can also consume from within.“, though it means “What nourishes me destroys me.

I used to talk quite openly about being fueled by hatred. It helped me see clearly, helped me be a better person, because I saw how hateful others were and didn’t want to be like them. I saw such ugly behavior all around me, and I refused to become that kind of person. I choose not to be selfish, self-centered, self-absorbed, or a bad person. I’m not perfect and I’ll never win an award for being angelic or congenial, but I know who I am. I’m not going to kiss anyone’s ass, but I’m also not going to attack someone without just cause either.

Being underestimated, especially a woman, is commonplace. I find it downright hilarious when other women underestimate me. Appearances can be deceiving. The woman who looks like the “girl next door” could very well be a serial killer; one never knows. Judge me if you want to be judged in turn, though quite frankly, I can barely be bothered. I’ve got bigger fish to fry.

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I spend my days battling an invisible illness that progressively gets worse, and I am judged harshly for it. No more. I see everyone precisely as they are now, and my shields aren’t coming down for anyone ever again.

There are hundreds of symptoms to Fibromyalgia, depending on how long you’ve had it and how it has progressed for you. I know people who have mild versions of it, and are able to live full lives, despite needing a little more self-care than usual. I wish it were that simple for me, but it’s not. For me, it started with chronic migraines. A year later I was going to doctor after doctor demanding that they find out what was wrong with my neck and shoulder. It was blown off for nearly two years as muscle injuries, until an MRI showed otherwise. I have inoperable damage to my cervical spine. There are only seven vertebrae that make up the cervical spine, and four of mine are damaged. There is damage to my lower lumbar spine as well, a section made up of five vertebrae, and 2-3 of mine show damage. My doctor is unsure how I got that, saying that most people probably have it (lower lumbar injuries) without realizing it because we throw our bodies around on our beds, etc., lift things that are too heavy, shovel snow, etc. I’ve never been that fragile physically, I was an athlete growing up, so maybe he’s right, maybe he’s not, but I will never know what caused that additional damage. I am almost certain I know what caused the cervical damage. I am due for a new set of MRI’s next year. I am not looking forward to any new information on it, especially knowing that there is damage to my tailbone that hasn’t healed properly, but a new brain MRI and spinal MRI are standard procedure for me. I have no choice and in truth, it is better to know now, that way I might finally receive proper treatment.

While chronic migraines may indeed be a side effect of Fibromyalgia, I also know many people who do not suffer from them, and have Fibromyalgia. It was the first symptom for me, but it’s not the same for every sufferer. I have, in two months, gone through nearly three bottles of OTC pain reliever for almost daily migraine pain. Here’s hoping new doctors have new answers.

Physically, I fight a battle each day just to get out of bed and be able to move around. Some days, I lose, but it’s not a failing on my part, it’s me having to come to terms with my body. I already have a booking for the beginning of September, which is great news (The pay, on the other hand, is less than half of my normal hourly rate, which offends me, but hey, I’ve got to be able to eat and pay bills. Even if it’s one dollar at a time. 😦 ), and I am hoping more jobs will come in soon, especially since reading, proofing, and editing are about all I can tolerate at the moment. The person who wanted me to edit 100,000 words in 24 hours, with notes, was delusional beyond words. If they had offered me the correct rate, I might have negotiated it into two or three days, but when the pay is shit, you’ve got to know your physical, mental, and tolerance limitations and say no to things (and people) that will not better you. If it won’t pay a bill or help you do the things you need to do, then it’s not worth it.

I do feel broken at the moment physically and emotionally. I am trying to put myself back together and get shit done. My mother used to say “All you can do is your absolute best, and if that isn’t good enough for anyone, fuck them,” She rarely swore, but she’s right. I am doing my BEST. If it isn’t good enough, tough shit. You can judge me when you’re 100% perfect, and not fighting your body each day. If I were completely healthy, no pain, etc., I wouldn’t be having this conversation, but I am. When people try to pressure you, you have to look closely at their motivation. If it is not a gentle nudge with a genuine, loving, caring heart; walk away. Anyone who wishes you harm or detests you, but refuses to communicate it to your face, shouldn’t be allowed to breathe the same air that you do. Quite frankly, quality oxygen for the viciously rude should never be allowed.

It is bad enough being chained to a body FULL of unrelenting pain. I refuse to be chained to other people’s demands or bullshit.

I am in charge of my life. Don’t pretend to care if you don’t, and don’t say you love me if it’s not the absolute truth. I smell liars all around me. There’s nothing like the smell of reptiles to ruin your day/week/month/year.

Here’s hoping no one has to experience what I have because no one deserve it.

copyright © 2016 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

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Bad Days, Sweet Cats

As I will explain in a future post, I’ve been having some incredibly bad days (it’s been many, many months, actually. I am not pointing any fingers in saying that, life is simply unpredictable as hell.). Some of it is health-related, but the rest is not worth repeating twice, so I’ll save it for the other post, which I’ve been working on for the past few days. I’m not quite ready to emotionally complete it.

This morning I was struck with the realization that there aren’t a lot of constants in this life. You can only hope that your true friends and family know who you are, as opposed to pretending they know you, and will love you unconditionally. You learn from the people who place conditions on every aspect of their “love”. God & Goddess, please don’t EVER let me be such a selfish, vindictive person that I use “love” against people. It’s not meant to be used as a weapon, much like a child is not meant to be used as a pawn during divorce proceedings. With each passing day, I feel like some people become uglier on the inside and quite frankly, it makes me sick to my stomach.

I went to bed early last night with a migraine I can’t seem to shake. Inevitably, due to the medication I took for it, I ended up wide awake by 1:30 this morning. I’ve been writing ever since, thinking, and doing a lot of soul-searching.

When I entered my sleep time into the Migraine App this morning (it doesn’t always pick up the exact time if I go to bed earlier than usual), I found a message from my brother that is quite telling. I’ve been explaining a few situations to him for many months now and at times he has been supportive and other times, quite vacant. I understand his anger and frustration. He’s been through crap I wouldn’t wish on a single soul and is still kind, caring, forgiving, and devoted. He tells me to forgive people on a near daily basis and insists that I pray for them instead of being angry. I’m often thinking “Hello? Have we met?!”, because I’m more likely to react than he is, at least these days. I haven’t reached any Zen states, mostly because too many people are taking shots at me. However, his message is a reminder of so many things. “You keep being yourself. Fuck everyone else! You are great as you are, do you understand? Don’t ever change for anybody.”

When you hear negative shit every single day, and you’re told it’s “merely feedback”, you occasionally start wondering if it’s true or if you’re going insane. It is 100% a form of brain-washing. You either shrivel up into a ball and believe the lies you’re told about who and what you are, or you put your hand up and say “Wait one fucking second! I KNOW who I am. You don’t get to define me with your negativity and issues.” Some people are not happy or satisfied unless they are hurting others verbally. Being emotionally abusive is still being abusive, and it’s not okay. I wish people could hear themselves 24/7 because if they could, they’d be apologizing for a lot of the crap that comes out of their mouths when they are tired, stressed out, worried, etc. I will always apologize if I’m wrong, even if I realize it three days later, but never being apologized to is incredibly hurtful to me.

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This year is NOT going as I planned. I have gotten a lot of doors slammed in my face, have had a lot of promises made to me broken in ways that are incredibly harmful, not to mention unforgivable, and I don’t know if I’ve ever experienced such severe despair before. Every day, week, month, etc., is a battle of pure survival. I am not happy. I am not enjoying any aspect of my life, and I loathe certain times of each day when I am forced to place every single ounce of who I am into a Tic-Tac sized box and pretend it doesn’t exist. It is nearly as bad as aspects of my childhood. The only difference is, back then I knew one of two things would happen; I would kill the abuser (my father) and spend the rest of my life in jail or my mother would finally gain the strength and courage to leave. Obviously, the latter happened. I don’t know that she ever truly had the strength and courage, but she did have the emotional support, and when she didn’t, she leaned on me. I was her rock.

Sometimes I feel as though the few people who remain in my life forget what I’ve been through, denounce what I am capable of, and try to make me feel guilty for being ill. People underestimate me. But when accusations regarding my character come into play, you’re asking for more trouble than you can handle.

I’ve said it before, but perhaps it bears repeating; I’m not a nice person. I don’t strive to be someone people trifle with and through experience, I have seen what nice brings. I can certainly be nice, I have my moments, but I don’t suggest testing me to see if you can reach the point of no return. Most people will interact with me and find me pleasant and lovely to be around, and that’s because they’ve chosen not to challenge my existence. They’ve chosen to treat me like a human-being. They’ve chosen not to start crap with me. I don’t respond kindly to threats, accusations, or anything negative. I might be looking at you and/or listening to you, but I may also be plotting your untimely demise in my head. That doesn’t mean I’ll act on it, but we’ve all reached a point with someone (or multiple people) and had a thought we might not normally have, leave alone share with others. It doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with us. If anything, it means we’re human. If you haven’t contemplated slapping someone, knocking their teeth out, breaking their jaw, or killing them in their sleep and telling G-d it was an accident, then I don’t trust you, because these are common thoughts. I know, because I’ve done a poll.

Nine times out of ten, it is mere words. “I’ll beat his ass.” or “I’ll slap the rude right out of her.” It’s not what you truly intend to do, it’s not even what you’re going to do when you calm down, it is simply a manifestation of anger in the initial moment. These are total “heat of the moment” reactions, and they are entirely human. Unless you’re a saint, you’ve had these thoughts. Unless you’ve reached some type of Zen Master level that I am not aware exists, you too have had these thoughts at least once in your life. No one is perfect and no one should claim to be. I will not pretend that thoughts haven’t crossed my mind. It makes killing characters off so much easier, because you can take your anger and write it out of your system. Or at least, I can. Sometimes all a person has to do is breathe wrong in my general direction and my first thought is “I’ve figured out fifteen different ways to kill you off in book four. In another minute, that number will go up to sixty.” You’ve managed to react without raising your voice or harming another person physically. In my case, the reward for this is bigger than chocolate, cupcakes, or a shopping spree at Sephora. This is HUGE, it warrants going all out. 😉

Again, this is all human. It does not mean I will be on the ten o’clock news having done something heinous. Will I have thought about it? The probability is quite high, yes. But acting on something and thinking about it are two completely different ends of the spectrum.

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I have been battling pretty much the same killer migraine for almost a week now, getting 3-4 hours as a “break” until another one slams into my head. Stress is the number one killer in this country, causing all different types of health issues, and when you suffer from migraines, they are often borne out of stress. Even if you think you lead a relatively stress-free existence, migraines are migraines and they don’t necessarily give you a break when medication doesn’t help.

This week it’s been migraines and my allergies taking me down. I’ve either been completely erratic with my sleep schedule or I’ve been unable to get out of bed, there hasn’t been a lot of middle-ground.

Through all this, Kitten has fiercely become my companion again. Both Cat and Kitten have been distant all these months. Less affectionate, less happy-go-lucky, less relaxed. They’re afraid of hands and they get snippy over the most basic things. They aren’t as open to affection as they once were, but I’ve done my best. They are an immense priority in my life, but you cannot force animals to change their behavior or to spend time with you when they’d prefer not to. So, waking up several times this week with Kitten glued to my side has been a nice change. She has patiently stayed with me while I’ve been ill, has been her normal, loving self, and has insisted on giving me kisses and trying to eat my hair again. This is progress; she is seeking me out for more than just food. Seeing them playing and not being fearful makes me smile. Unfortunately, they scare easily these days. 😦 I pray that one day, they will feel secure again. They are little blessings. I know they were both sent to me, that they’re both gifts of the highest order, so I pray their fear dissipates and their happiness and health surges. All I can do is keep being me, which shows them that while life has changed, Mommy has not. I always tell them that I’m their safe place. Apparently, Kitten is listening and Cat pretends to listen in case the treat bag makes noise. 😉

I ordered their food online because the price was unbeatable and you don’t always see large bags of grain-free food on sale (Occasionally I am able to get a local store to price-match, but this time it simply wasn’t worth the effort.). You’ve never seen two cats happier to see a shipping box. I’m schlepping in a thirty pound box Saturday morning (Thank you FedEx and Chewy.com for saving my butt!) and they both watched and waited to see what had arrived. I opened the box and they both stared at the packaging and each other before they each lifted a paw to swat in sync. I quickly unboxed everything and they stared at each other to see who would get into the box first. Kittens defers to Cat on most things, especially if she’s unsure about something. Cat wasn’t happy with me for breaking the box down so quickly. But give her a purse and she just might go anywhere with you! This is new behavior I’ve never seen before. A lot of their behavior is new. Kitten is now extremely interested in my purse and I keep saying “Get your paws out of that bag.” I caught her trying to take my makeup bag out of my purse and drag it off like prey. It’s cute once, the second time makes you question all that you carry around (I’m like Mary Poppins, with a different accent. LMAO!). I haven’t weighed it, but I’m certain it weighs more than they do, combined. It would explain why my shoulder hurts every time I am out for more than twenty minutes with my bag on my shoulder. Clearly I am a masochist. 😦 Clearly, Kitten is trying to get me to see the error of my ways.

The week ends with the birthday of one of my best friends. She is my soul-sister; beautiful, talented, and as afflicted by Fibromyalgia pain as I am. I am wishing for her a healthier, prosperous, and supremely happier year. If there is good in me it is most reflected in my friendships, which are pure platinum.

Welcome to all the new followers; I appreciate both your readership and comments. 🙂

I will attempt to decompress as much as possible and I wish you all a wonderful weekend to come.

copyright © 2016 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

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