Devoid Of Emotion And All That Jazz

2016-04-02 Miss Poison Life, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writing Cat and Kitten, Chronic Pain, Emotions, Fibromyalgia, Laws Regarding Pain Medication, Life, March, Migraines, Musings, Pain Patients, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writing

I would apologize for not writing anything of substance over the past few weeks, but I’m not sorry for sparing all of you. I’ve had little I’ve wanted to talk about, not just where writing is concerned, but in my daily life as well. When that occurs, I find it is best to retreat inside myself and wait until things are quieter, calmer, less insane, or I reach some semblance of ‘all of the above’. I do have things I will discuss moving forward, things I’ve psycho-analyzed or things I am in the process of psycho-analyzing, but the day-to-day shit? Absolutely no one wants to hear what goes on inside my head. They’d either drop dead from the speed of my thoughts or run screaming into the great unknown. I know, because I’ve tried to do both. It turns out that, at times, your mind is your own worst enemy.

I have been busy working on my passion project. I rebranded it, as I have been doing it for three years and wanted to make it something special and unique to me. I am now able to see it with new eyes. It is becoming rewarding and refreshing, and I believe that with determination, strength, and fortitude, it will continue to grow into precisely what I’ve envisioned it to be, if not end up in a different direction, far larger than I could ever dream possible. I am trying to devote a lot of my “free time” to this because ultimately, it is a career change and is helping break me out of my comfort zones.

My mother used to say “Do not be afraid to dream big, for the dream precedes the goal.” Inspirational words considering I was pretty young when she said it the first time, but she continued to repeat it whenever I’d lose faith and/or get discouraged. There is NO expiration date on your dreams.

IMG_20151206_233411 — In case you were wondering, this is how Kitten rolls in hotels. She jumps from the floor to sit on top of the refrigerator. See the defiant little face? #JustLikeMama

Cat and Kitten are slowly making progress in their new environment. Cat is such a sweet, loving, gentle soul, but she’s generally passive by nature, so I was concerned about how she would integrate. I don’t want her to be bullied or get hurt. She’s not a fighter. She has learned how to jump over obstacles, like the pet gate, in order to get to me and/or explore. She’s been dealing with OGK quite a bit in face-to-face moments. Some of their interactions go well, others do not. He chases her out of the living room most of the time, if he sees her at all. Often times, he sleeps through 99% of her living room antics. She’s stealth, I’ll give her that. It’s hard not to laugh as she darts around corners, looking for my approval before she goes exploring. One night he chased her and cornered her in my room. He hissed like a lunatic, but she stood and watched him. She refused to back down and I was so proud of her. She is coming into her own and showing how strong and brave she is. She has finally gotten to a point where she’s back in my bed, sound asleep, whenever possible, and has gone out of her way to remember her kitten days and crawl into my lap, despite the fact that she no longer fits. I know this normal part of our Mommy/Cat routine is why she has often looked dejected and depressed these past few months. It makes me sad whenever I see her big gold eyes staring at me as if to say “Can I come out now? Why is this gate here? I want to be with you.” I know that in another month or so, there will hopefully no longer be a need for the gate, but for now, I can say it has truly been a God-send.

Kitten took much longer to emerge, and she’s the Alpha of the two, so I decided to physically remove her from her foxholes. I had to pick her up, bring her downstairs, and force her to immerse herself in the new. She fought with me like a toddler as I carried her downstairs, and immediately tried to leave the second I secured her behind the pet gate. She discovered almost instantly that the new gate is easy for her to jump over (I’m pretty sure she could scale a six-foot wall with ease. She’s huge, and taller than most domestic cats.), so I often find her un-corralled, but only when there’s food involved. If she senses OGK; if she sees or smells him and no one is with her to get in his way, she will hop right back over the gate and either watch him or hide. She’s still hissing at him on occasion, but it’s an innocent sound, a “back off” warning that she is giving him for getting too close. What bothers me the most is her visible unhappiness and depression over not being with me 24/7. She’s a Mama’s Girl, and she does not appreciate having her access to me blocked, yet getting her into my room practically required pulling teeth. I am proud to say that she is finally comfortable enough to come downstairs on her own, albeit under my watchful eye. I was coming out of the kitchen one day and she was sitting in the picture window in the living room, staring at me. Unfortunately, in my joy of discovering her out and about with such confidence, I locked OGK in the kitchen and when I went to check on him, the doorknob fell off in my hand. I spent a good 30 minutes trying to re-attach it in order to get him out, feeling terribly stupid. I nearly broke a tweezer and a scissor in my efforts. Thankfully, the handyman is quite handy and was able to fix it in less than a few minutes. He then lapsed into a story about keeping a screwdriver in his bathroom, as the very same thing had happened to him one night, leaving him to try to unlock the door in the dark. It was a little TMI, but he was just trying to make me feel better in a time of great stress.

For roughly the past two and a half weeks, she’s been making it into my room safely, all on her own. She is now comfortable getting into my bed and plopping down beside me for a belly rub and kisses. She’s slowly exploring “our stuff” and is so much happier to spend an hour or two with me as opposed to being solo. So, that’s progress. 😀

I miss them because they’re not with me all of the time. They’re my babies and I love them, but the exhausted, drained, Fibromyalgia part of me is glad that I get some alone time because I spend a lot of time these days feeling physically weak.

As for the Fibromyalgia; essentially it means you are fighting a war inside your body. I need to remind myself that self-care isn’t selfish or wrong. I need to stop being so hard on myself. However, I also NEED to push myself physically and not allow this disease to rob every single day of my life. When I hit the point where I am unable to write, which is usually by 10:00 a.m. most days, I feel terrible amounts of guilt. It’s not that my brain is lacking in ideas, it’s that the pain is overwhelming and when you physically cannot do something, the creative process has to take a break.

I stay in bed when I have to, merely to rest, but I’ve been here for almost four months and I have absolutely no social life to speak of. I do nothing fun. 😦 That’s got to change, ASAP! I’m starting to feel like OGK’s vet’s office is my second home. I am by no means ungrateful or unappreciative, I simply need a reminder that I am young and have a life to live. It’s hard doing that when you spend five days a week talking to cats for 8-10 hours, and harder still when the weekends come and you find yourself sick (my migraines have been brutal), or unable to form complete sentences without sounding like a lunatic.

For anyone who thinks that Fibromyalgia doesn’t affect the brain in some way; you’d be wrong. I am normally sharp, quick-witted, loquacious, intelligent, and direct to the point where it makes people squirm, but lately I cannot handle conversations that require a great deal of thought, and I absolutely cannot deal with stressful shit. I’m already on the high-end of having no patience, but I am currently so frayed at the ends that there’s damn near nothing left. To add insult to injury, I fell in the shower a week and a half ago. I didn’t break anything, but I expected an epic bruise. After all, I fell entirely on my left side from shoulder to knee. Surely that leaves a mark? Either I am extremely slow in the bruising phase or the aches under the skin simply didn’t warrant bruising. Who knows. It took a full week for me to be able to sleep on my left side again, and the fall sent me into a terrible flare-up. Even as I sit here now, I am in a world of pain. In that world, pain laws are changing, and not for the better.

I am disgusted at pain patients being labeled as “drug addicts” simply because many of us require the use of opioid pain medications in order to do the simplest things a healthy person can do, like walk the dog, take a shower, take out the trash, grocery shop, etc. When I was healthy, I walked endless miles in Spring/Summer/Fall day. It never occurred to me not to walk ten miles one way and ten miles back, because I was out and doing things I wanted to do. I was an athlete. My world came crashing to halt as the early stages of Fibromyalgia began surfacing. One after another, these evil things made their way into my life, but it took years before I agreed to take pain medication. I’d worked for professional athletes and experienced firsthand what genuine addiction post-injury is like. Many of them lost their lives before age 40. I refused to go the same route over pain, though my doctors were calling certain things “injuries” and sending me to physical therapy and other useless wastes of time and co-payment money back then. It took research before I demanded to be tested for Lyme Disease and Lupus. I’d been tested for everything else, so I was convinced I had one or the other. When both tests came back negative, my doctor told me the only plausible explanation for every single thing I was experiencing was Fibromyalgia. Perhaps I’d heard the word in passing, but I’d never given it personal credence until that day, where I was unfortunately way too focused on the fact that I did not have Lupus, to ask the questions I should have. I’ll never walk out of a doctor’s office with a diagnosis again and come away with unanswered questions. I don’t care if it’s a challenge to the physician or not, it saves me from agonizing over it online, which isn’t always the best resource for someone newly diagnosed with anything, especially not during a time when the word Fibromyalgia was barely used. I think research is an excellent tool once you’ve gotten a second, third, or even fourth opinion, but don’t let it make you feel powerless as you read other people’s stories.

Pain patients are NOT addicts. I have yet to meet someone who suffers as I do, as many of us do, who did nothing but pop pills all day long. We’ve all looked at alternative forms of treatment, we’ve all tried different things in order to manage our pain, but in the grand scheme of things, we are NOT criminals for needing the medication and no one should ever make you feel as though you are. If you meet a pharmacist that refuses to fill your prescriptions, please contact the main office of whatever pharmacy you use and file a complaint against them. Also, call your state’s pharmacy board and file a formal complaint. You won’t cost him/her their job, but they WILL be sent to continuing education courses before they are allowed to return to work handling controlled substances, and in some instances, that might very well be a crucial move to save others from what you may experience.

I had to do this myself when a portion of a controlled substance I take went missing from the bottle after it had been counted and bagged. I didn’t have time to count them in the store, who does? I was encouraged, in fact, by my cousin who is a pharmacist and deals with pain patients regularly where she works, not to worry that I may have cost the pharmacist her job (she assured me that they rarely get fired for a first time offense), and that I had the right to demand the full pill amount that was not in the bottle. If it had been a pill or two, I wouldn’t have said anything, but it was nearly 60 pills missing (an enormous cut from my monthly script) and the pharmacist implied that “Maybe I’d taken them myself”. She actually said that to me. My response was “In three days?! I would have OD’d if I did something stupid like that, and we wouldn’t be having this conversation, would we?” If she’d said it to my face, she would not currently have one. I was enraged and we’re not even talking about a prescription for pain medicine.

My brother, post major open-heart surgery, was given very small prescriptions for pain medication, despite the fact that breathing, coughing, and moving around too much were excruciating. The pain has only recently stopped, but I assure you that it was not properly managed except when he was in the hospital and that knowledge sickens me. He’d never in his life experienced so much physical agony, but the first thing I was warned about in caring for him post-op was to make sure he wasn’t “becoming addicted”. I nearly laughed looking at the pill count on the prescriptions. You cannot become addicted with 40 pills, nor can you become addicted on 20. Not when it’s your fourth time in your entire life taking prescription pain medication. I looked at the hospital staff like they were all mentally disturbed. I suspect the subject, as it floats all over all forms of media, will continue to produce angry moments and thousands upon thousands of stories. Don’t hesitate to take to the written word if you aren’t treated with respect as a pain patient. But don’t get discouraged if more than one doctor doesn’t treat you as the used to moving forward. Nothing would shock me. 😦

I hope everyone is enjoying Spring and had a wonderful Ostara (or Easter). Passover is later month and while I, personally, don’t celebrate it the way I did when I was younger, I find that this year, I care more about being around family than the holiday itself. Of course, this requires energy I don’t currently possess, but perhaps Patient X will visit. He was released from the hospital on Monday, minus the Life Vest he has worn since being released in November post-surgery. I don’t know if that’s a good or bad thing (no longer wearing the Life Vest), especially since the additional surgeries he was supposed to have/need are currently off the table because he is too young. I do know that if my brother ends up dead because someone was negligent, there will be hell to pay. I might very well call one of his doctors myself and try to get some answers. My brother’s not big on words at the moment. 😦

I’m glad that my current state of insomnia finally produced something worthy of being posted.

Wishing you all a wonderful weekend!

Shutting Down

2016-03-052016-07-21 Miss Poison Honesty, Life, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writing Autoimmune Diseases, Brain Fog, Chronic Pain, Depression, Emotions, Fibro Fog, Fibromyalgia, Honesty, Humanity, Life, Lyme Disease, Migraines, Musings, Pain, Poison In Lethal Doses, Unhappiness, Writing

I’ve had roughly six pain-free hours in the past two weeks, so bear with me. I could never say “I hurt.” enough. 😦 That’s not even the appropriate terminology for what I’ve been experiencing, and I hate it.

Pain isn’t always physical. For me, it often is, but sometimes pain is also emotional. I don’t care who you are; we’ve all been there. Whether we care to admit it or not, it is a fact of life, in varying degrees. No one lives a supremely happy existence 24/7. If they do, they aren’t human.

I hate making plans for a day, or even two consecutive days, and not being able to do much of anything, save washing my face, brushing my teeth, caring for Cat, Kitten, and OGK, and doing simple things, like a load of laundry, or cooking a meal. I know for some people, the thought of cooking a meal as a Fibro/Chronic Pain patient means “heavy duty work” (and it’s something so many of you have told me you no longer do, for various reasons.), but for me, it truly is simple nine times out of ten. If it were too much for me, I wouldn’t do it. If I couldn’t do my laundry, it would simply pile up. There are days when I just want to walk out of the house and not come back. Far more than I care to admit. The past few months, I have felt that way a lot. More than a lot. It’s been a daily struggle.

It’s unbelievably lonely living in a state where you only know three people, where you’re almost completely isolated, where the TV and your laptop (and the cats) are your best friends. It’s not just lonely, it’s sickening and pathetic. But here are the facts: I am not a joiner. I do not talk to strangers simply to “connect” with new people. That’s not me. I am not a small talk kind of chick. I will not discuss nonsense with anyone simply to have something to run my mouth about. You’d think some people would appreciate that level of depth, but instead, people simply see it as me being unpleasant, a bitch, or any number of other things that aren’t true. Ultimately, the truth of the matter is, I am too honest. I lost my filter many moons ago, so if you ask me a direct question, you may or may not like the answer, but that’s not really my problem.

I make an exerted effort to pull back on my temper and be supremely polite and engaging, but if a situation really doesn’t involve me and there’s nothing for me to say, I will quietly observe. The last time I checked, this was not a crime.

I’m hurting, and no one sees it. No one cares enough to do so.

I want to sit, eat chocolate, and cry until I cannot see. Perhaps I have not received the support I need because this is the first time I’m voicing the distress I feel, but come on?! How blind is everyone?! Things are so bad in my life at this moment, I have no idea how to pull myself out of the mess that it is, and yet, all the outside world is going to see is the girl with the makeup on who forges ahead. I could be bleeding out of my eyeballs, but no one would notice that, not unless it started spraying everywhere which, I agree, is completely unsanitary, despite the fact that I am free of blood borne diseases.

My attention span is so poor that it has taken me several months to finish a book I would normally read in a few hours. I cannot watch an hour of TV in one sitting, because my mind wanders and then I have to rewind it back to where I was initially paying attention. And yet, I somehow managed to sit through one of the worst movies EVER (I’ll tell you which one if you ask nicely.) in two sittings, desperately waiting for the fucking plot. Guess what? There wasn’t one, it was absolute garbage. I’d like to get that two hours of my life back, along with three hours from a few years ago that I had to spend dealing with a family member’s meshugas. I’ve since stricken this person out of my life much the same way Ramses tried to strike Moses out of The Ten Commandments (If you haven’t seen this movie, shame on you.).

Too often people refer to their autoimmune diseases and mention how it deeply affects their brain function. They are 100% correct in that it does affect our thought process, among many other things. There are moments when I feel like someone has erased huge chunks from my mind, yet I can recall other things with perfect clarity, to the point where it’s terrifyingly eerie. So, call it “Brain Fog” or “Fibro Fog”, but whatever it is, I definitely feel it more often than not. Last night, at dinner, I momentarily tried to figure out where the piece of bread came from on my plate. I’d been eating not ten seconds before, but I drew an absolute blank staring at this small piece of bread, one of my absolute faves, because I couldn’t recall it being there. I catch myself mentally checking out, shutting down when I shouldn’t, and it’s a miserable feeling. Don’t ask me what I did this week because, unless I wrote it down, I haven’t the foggiest fucking clue! 😦

Before I forget, I want to discuss someone being attacked for suffering from Lyme Disease. I absolutely HATE IT when hundreds of people come out of the woodwork and accuse a fellow sufferer of an invisible illness of faking it “for attention”. As if! Yes, there are people who DO fake all kinds of illnesses, but this person is someone with integrity. She’s not creative enough to make this shit up, and she so desperately wants her old life back that there’s no way in hell she’d put herself through a “fake illness”. It’s not gaining her anything, being sick, so for people to think that and make their accusations public pisses me off.

Lyme Disease is a complicated son of a bitch. It can happen to ANY of us at ANY given time, so only the ignorant are the ones wasting time judging. Lyme can lie dormant for YEARS and is one of the largest, growing epidemics in the world. If caught early, you can be treated with antibiotics and go about your life, but if the disease has been in your system for 10+ years, it is going to take its toll. Most people have no reason to be tested for it, but I’ve been tested for it on a regular basis since I was eight. So, I know precisely what I am talking about.

Instead of allowing fellow autoimmune sufferers to be bashed, we should be banding together in support of those who hurt the way we do. Being a good person means doing a little research sometimes. Being a good friend means you do the research when your friend is suffering, and by no means do you allow others to denounce their pain and suffering. We all know that our symptoms can be co-morbid with other illnesses, it’s a fact, but the next time I hear someone disrespecting a fellow sufferer to the extent that this person has been attacked, I will seriously open up a can of whoop ass on those doing it Steve Austin stole that line from me back in the day, not the other way around. 😉

Now that that’s off my chest, the weekend is here, it’s freezing, there’s a little snow on the ground, and yet, it will be 70 degrees on Wednesday. I kid you not. I am already taking allergy meds, so I suspect this Spring might very well be the death of me, and really, I was hoping to just drown myself today around noon. 😦

Patient X was scheduled to undergo another procedure, but it has since been postponed indefinitely. Hopefully I will get to see him for Passover, if not sooner. I’m sending out prayers in advance to my best friend’s father, who is scheduled for heart surgery in a few weeks. Scary, scary shit. 😦

I am off to do wild and crazy things, like contemplate sleep (or watch the rest of The Originals, you’ll never know which! LOL.) and/or hunt down a cupcake.

Be good to one another. Until next time,

Unplugged

2016-02-22 Miss Poison Honesty, Inspiration, Life, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writing Fibromyalgia, Honesty, Inspiration, Life, Migraines, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Stress, Unplugged, Valentine's Day, Writing

This weekend is going to plunge into Siberian-type temperatures. This morning, when I couldn’t sleep, it jumped from -10 to -12 in a matter of minutes. What’s worse is; you can feel it in your bones and on your skin. It is the kind of pain I would have blown off many moons ago, when Fibromyalgia was a word I’d never heard of. But now? Now the weather dictates more of my life than I care to admit.

This morning (Friday, the 12th), I unplugged my wireless router, landline, TV, and DVR. It’s an experiment from now until maybe Monday afternoon to see if I can maintain my sanity, and possibly give up the landline or TV/DVR permanently. The handful of shows I will miss are easy to catch OnDemand next week if I’m so inclined. At least that’s what I keep telling myself. I also keep telling myself that these are things that distract me from getting a lot of work done. I’m not 100% certain if that is true or not, thus, the weekend of being, slightly, unplugged.

And so I sit here listening to Pandora on my cell phone (my one source of Internet access for e-mail and social media. I don’t have to be a complete masochist.), looking over the list of things I need to write, and want to write. I’m concerned that a few things may be controversial, which is precisely why I want to mull the subject matter over a bit before jumping on it, but when has that stopped me before? It hasn’t. However, there are sensitive things on the list and I do take into consideration the feelings of others as opposed to writing something that may, or may not, come off as a snap judgment. No matter how open-minded one may be, we all have moments where we’re slightly judgmental of something, someone, or a situation. It’s a fact of life. It’s not pretty, but it’s honest. The difference here is that I wouldn’t be writing it with malice, just wondering about the intent behind the actions of others.

Friday was a day of surprises, amidst extremely sad news I learned prior to the doorbell ringing. The sad news is an entirely different story which I will likely tell in the coming weeks. I’m waiting to hear the excuse that goes along with it because there are some things in life people simply cannot talk themselves out of. I look forward to seeing what kind of bullshit story I get fed since I already know it’s a lie. People can think what they like about me, but I double and triple check my facts before I open my mouth, especially in regard to serious matters.

Onto the good stuff: Riley sent two dozen roses along with chocolate covered Oreos (which are SO good, they should be illegal) and a sweet little diamond heart necklace. Upon calling to be certain I received the roses, I sent him a quick photo from my phone and his immediate response was “They’re red! You HATE red. (This is true.) I ordered long-stemmed Sterling roses! What the bloody hell is WRONG with these people?! I told them white, yellow, or several dozen Calla Lily’s were the only acceptable alternatives. I’ll call you back, I want to have a word with these people.” And people think I’m bad?! Particular men like particular women. 😉

I received a sweet teddy bear from my Goddaughter because she thinks, due to the Fibromyalgia, that I need something “cuddly” to keep me company when I am “in the dark place”. I haven’t slept with stuffed animals in a LONG time, but man did that bear keep me company Friday night and during the day Saturday when I was sick.

Saturday afternoon I received a dozen yellow roses (there are actually thirteen, which I noticed when I was photographing them) from my Zia along with a stunning, grey/silver Catherine Malandrino scarf that I am almost certain she will want to borrow. It’s THAT pretty. Sadly, my mood was so soured by Friday’s news that I really wasn’t able to fully enjoy the whole “Look at all your roses” experience. I did, however, make sure to take some photos when everything was still pretty.

SAM_0907 — The fact that there’s exactly ONE left and it’s the 22nd speaks wonders for my restraint.

SAM_0909 — These are African roses and they’re still alive and vibrant.

SAM_0906 — I do hate red, but the petals are really stunning and inspiring from a color standpoint.

I was able to get some writing done, but nowhere near what I anticipated due to feeling so sick from the cold. I try not to sleep during the day, but Saturday required a heating pad because the pain was off the charts crazy. 😦 By Sunday morning, everything was plugged back in. I tried, I failed, and I openly admit it was mostly the wireless router that I missed because I realized how much work I could be doing, but wasn’t getting done, so I had to say “Enough!”, and even though I didn’t turn the TV on until late that night, it was probably a good idea to unplug a bit and see if external things are distracting me or if my distractions are internal. Turns out, it’s 100% internal.

I can multitask like a boss, but Fibromyalgia pain and migraine pain, tempered with the horrific temperatures, was simply too much for me. I’m pretty sure my brain was partially frozen. 😦

Unfortunately, and fortunately to some extent, this past week/weekend was productive and stressful, and it brought warmer temperatures with it. Nearly 60 degrees in February is doable, but because I pushed myself really hard Friday and Saturday, I’m lucky I was able to get out of bed yesterday. I will definitely be relying on self-care methods this week because I am in excruciating pain with no end in sight.

I’ve been doing my best to balance being plugged in and unplugged. There are benefits to both , but somewhere along the line, I became a WiFi slave and a DVR slut. 😦 Even still, I am going to try to unplug one weekend each month from here on in and see if that helps me focus on getting all the written work done that is slowly piling up. According to my inbox, the work is going to increase, but at least the workload is going to be fun.

Here’s hoping everyone is well and good and that everyone came away unscathed these past two weeks. I will be back soon.

Enjoy the full moon! 😀

A Myriad Of Thoughts

2016-02-112016-02-11 Miss Poison Birthdays, Blessings, February, Fibromyalgia, Honesty, Inspiration, Life, Migraines, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writing Birthdays, February, Honesty, Life, Musings, My Best Friend, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, True Friendship, Writing

I begin this day by wishing my best friend Marion the happiest of birthdays. Not a lot of people can say they are a true friend of mine, but you can say “This is my best friend of 20 years.” There are marriages that don’t last nearly as long. We’re the lucky ones, and sometimes I think I am simply blessed to have you in my life.

You are part angel, part mother/sister/saint, one of the kindest people on the planet, a genuine, generous soul, the person who always has my back and my best interests at heart, and you’ve been my rock through some of the most difficult things I’ve had to endure in my life. Thank you for that, for all of it.

People often say that actions speak louder than words, but with me, my words are in sync with my actions. Know that I am grateful for you, day in and day out. You are an immense blessing, little pom. 🙂 XOXO.

Where else are my thoughts at the moment? With an old friend, who is battling prostate cancer. I am glad he is surrounded by family and has the support of so many. Unfortunately, I, for the life of me, am having emotional difficulties with this particular situation. I think I am so inundated with my pain at the moment that I am only able to feel compassion and empathy for him, and that someplace, somewhere, over the past few years, I’ve forgotten that there was once love there. Here’s hoping I locate it.

I have some writing projects going on, and I am having difficulties focusing. This past Friday was a snow day, the weekend was beautiful and I pushed myself to really enjoy it, and then Monday was a snow day with barely any snow to speak of, but the schools were closed, the city was shut down, etc. And now, the days will be decent, but the nights will be “Lisa In Siberia”. My body can’t take much more of this insanity. My migraines have been torture and when that hasn’t been affecting me, I’ve had Fibromyalgia pain I wouldn’t wish on anyone. The next time you overhear someone say it’s “not a real disease”, please send them my way so they can live in my body for a year. I’d love to remember what it’s like to walk without pain. I have been in so much pain that I’m embarrassed to say I’ve been falling asleep at crazy hours and taking naps. It is AWFUL to go through daily life feeling so sick and weak, but there’s not a lot I can do about it. I have to be patient with myself and remind myself that self-care is nothing to be ashamed of. Unfortunately, yes, it does make me feel wasteful where time is concerned.

Special thanks to Beauty Stat for starting my new venture off with a bang. 🙂 I am excited to try out the products they sent me (I’ve never been so surprised to see the UPS man. LOL.) and get my beauty loving butt back into the swing of things. There’s more to me than “writer” and “editor” and hopefully some of you will stop on by and give that side of me a try. I will let you all know once it is fully launched, as it is not linked or associated with this platform, but can still be found on WordPress. For those of you that figured it out via Twitter, thank you for being the first to follow me. It means so much. 🙂 XO.

I will be back and forth. I’m not abandoning anything or anyone, but I do have a lot of hours to put into fully launching my new project, not to mention all the education that comes with it. I look at that as a creative adventure.

If I’m not back before next week, know that I am writing.

Be well everyone!

sometimesyoujustneed — Yes, this is definitely Marion.

Words

2016-02-06 Miss Poison Honesty, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Words, Writing Art, Creativity, Fibromyalgia, Growth, Honesty, Learning, Migraines, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Words, Writing

I haven’t been quiet intentionally, I’ve been quiet because I’ve been sick for the majority of the month we have recently said goodbye to until 2017. February didn’t exactly begin with a sense of calm, either. I’ve had maybe one or two migraine-free days over the past month or so, and the migraines themselves have been intense.

I’ve spent a lot of time punishing myself over the past month and a half. I only just realized it last Sunday evening. I am utterly horrible to myself, and I don’t deserve it. Admitting it is the first step, moving on and self-correcting the behavior as I go is the only way to improve upon it. It’s hard to erase a habit that has existed for such an incredible length of time overnight, but I will simply make myself aware of it so that I can work on it this year. That and personal “mind noise” are issues I wish I didn’t have.

Being sick, overly stressed, and exhausted within my soul has deeply affected my writing. I am torn between what I am used to doing each day and what I am drawn to. They are two completely different things, yet both on the creative spectrum. I am working hard to launch a new project, which is basically an upgrade to something that already exists. It’s a springboard to a career change, but yes, I will still be writing.

When people consider writing “a hobby”, it’s insulting to me. I’ve never used writing as any type of hobby form. I wouldn’t know how to do that either, because I’ve been writing for so long that it’s an art form. I absolutely hate it when people tell me, upon learning that I’m a writer, how much they’d love to write, but don’t have the time or when someone says “I’d love to read a book, but I don’t have the time.” That’s implying that I have time to basically goof off, because they do not perceive writing or reading as life priorities. How do you learn if you don’t read? No, documentaries on the History and/or Discovery channel don’t count.

We all have passions in life; things we prioritize over other things on a professional or personal level. I am a master multi-tasker, but I do know people who can’t multitask. I can do five things at once, which is astounding to anyone who cannot, but it’s also my attention span and how I work on a brain level.

There are always going to be days when I can’t get out of bed due to migraines or Fibromyalgia, but I still force myself to feed Cat and Kitten and give them love, even if I can’t force myself to eat. I still scoop three litter boxes more than once a day. OGK still gets attention from me, or he has tantrums because he likes to be included in everything. Unlike Cat and Kitten, who are younger and love differently, OGK likes to be a part of “the family”. He likes to sit in the middle of conversations and do silly things. The girls are goofy and silly too, they’re all incredibly smart cats, but he’s approximately 16 years old and is set in his ways. He wants what he wants and he wants it yesterday. That aspect of my life is day-to-day stuff. You do it because you have to do it, or it doesn’t get done, but it’s not necessarily what you live for.

No matter what I feel or what I am doing, shit still has to get done. Laundry still has to be done. Food still has to be bought and cooked, but when someone asks me what I do for a living, I am a writer and an editor, albeit one who aspires to do more. I’d prefer to grow, as opposed to remain stagnant. (Kudos to everyone who thinks I should be a personal chef. That’s a lovely compliment and anyone willing to pay me can hire my personal cooking skills for holidays and/or special events. Hell, you can hire me to come over and cook for you daily, I don’t mind.)

It doesn’t always pay to be a writer or an editor, I’ve talked about that many times, but it’s still a huge part of who I am. On the flip side, I am also incredibly enterprising and entrepreneurial. I inherited that from my Grandfather, who ran many businesses (bars, candy stores, etc.) until he passed away at age 40. In the throes of pain, I don’t always believe I’ll live to see 40, much less 50, but words, they live on. Words can, and do, impact lives.

There are books that speak to me. There is music that speaks to me and feeds my soul. There are people whose words are an inspiration to me daily. There are TV shows and movies that make me laugh. All of this stems from writing. Words on paper. Words in any format made to enlighten, educate, communicate, or entertain. Words have power and magic in them.

I’m an incredibly proud master of words.

Rules Of The Week

2016-01-182016-01-19 Miss Poison Honesty, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writing Boston, Cooking, David's Tea, Delete Blood Cancer, Falafel King, Family, Fibromyalgia, Friends, Honesty, Hot Cocoa, January, Loved Ones, Migraines, Musings, My Grandmother, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Random Acts Of Kindness, Snow, Swampscott, Tea, Ten Thousand Villages, Thoughts, Writing

I hope everyone had a prosperous, happy week and weekend. Me? Not so much. I’ve been plagued by migraines at a near non-stop pace. The warmth of last weekend (which wasn’t all that warm, really.) gave way to incredibly awful Fibromyalgia pain during the past week into this weekend. The cold has forced its way deep into my bones, as if dry ice resides there. A pleasant feeling it is not. I cycle back and forth between being too warm and suddenly feeling as if I’m dying from exposure. All of this is indoors, mind you. The ‘great outdoors’ is a whole other ballgame entirely. 😦

I was lucky to spend Friday morning in Boston with my Zia. I’d like to thank David’s Tea (They have locations in the U.S. & Canada. Do not hesitate to shop here for all kinds of tea-related happiness. I’ve included the link to their website which includes free shipping for purchases of $50 and up, as well as specials for clearance items.) for the yummy tea goodies to be enjoyed. Seriously folks, Banana.Nut.Bread.Tea. Those are four words I never thought I’d utter in a sentence, much less type. It is delicious, but my favorite, for now, is the Organic Earl Grey. They have three different types of this particular tea, if you’re so inclined. Also, the staff is particularly wonderful at the Washington Street location. An enormous shout-out to Falafel King for inducting me into an aspect of Judaism I had not yet embarked upon. I am obsessed. I’m also hard-pressed to stay away! 😀 Also, thank you to Ten Thousand Villages where, upon browsing, we came across Spicy Hot Cocoa. If you know anything about me, you know I am a chili pepper dark chocolate fanatic. Mexican hot chocolate is made with cayenne pepper and cinnamon, among many other delicious things you tend not to find in regular hot cocoa. It is unmatched in its fabulousness. I can’t wait to make it! Here’s hoping it’s as sinful as it should be. 😉

Saturday I spent some time in Swampscott, MA. I would have taken some photos, but other than low tide, there wasn’t much to see because the weather was atrocious. It was a grey, stormy morning with heavy rain and a period of slushy snow. Today I am grateful to be home in the warmth where I can recuperate, despite the 3-4 inches of snow that fell overnight. It was quite pretty until all the shoveling and plowing began. Now it’s only pretty in the backyard, though the wind isn’t helping. It’s bitter out there!

Due to the rough time I had on all levels last week, the stress of the past few months, my Boston-induced injuries that suddenly manifested as I was getting off the T (I’m in excruciating pain, so bear with me.), and something in my personal life that I can only constitute as a form of passive-aggressive abuse, I bring you my “Rules Of The Week”.

I have decided that many of these are rules for life. Some of this is merely where my head is at now, and other things are more about common sense and how others treat you. If someone reads this and doesn’t like what I’ve said, by all means; Please say something to me about it directly. Try any day that doesn’t end in a Y. That will be the day when you’re right and I am wrong.

1) I don’t care who a person is; If they’re yelling & screaming at you, or accusing you of insane shit you haven’t done; Walk away. It cuts down on the time you might have to spend in jail by staying put and opening your mouth in response…or worse.

It has never occurred to certain types of people that they are truly in the wrong, so let them rant and rave in their wrongness. When they finally realize they’re wrong (Eventually it may happen.), you will likely be blamed for it. You have big shoulders, you can handle the hypocrisy/stupidity.

2) No one has the right to question your pain or tell you that it inconveniences their life. They are NOT you, they are NOT suffering (Why isn’t stupidity painful? It should be.), they do not reside within your body, and quite frankly, they can jump off the nearest bridge and see if the landing is smooth.

3) If someone tells you that other people are in worse pain than you, it is more than okay to tell them off. In fact, it should be automatic. I nearly did tell someone off for it. I still might.

Realistically speaking: How the fuck does anyone know what my pain levels are? If it hasn’t been brought up in conversation then precisely how do they know that “other people are physically in more pain than you are” each day? Do they even hear what they say or how it is presented? And by the way, for the person that did say this to me: BITE ME, but please do so after living for a year in my body and then come back and tell me how other people are in more pain. Don’t denounce the pain you don’t experience. You do not have the right to that.

What I experience and endure could very easily happen to you. It is a life-sentence I would not wish on anyone, except Hitler, so please, don’t ever question how bad it is.

4) Just because someone says something in a blase’ tone of voice does not mean they are being disrespectful, rude, or sarcastic. It probably means they don’t feel good or feel burdened by their day/life/situation/physical pain, etc. Not everything in life requires a fireworks display in response.

People should know me by now. I don’t hide sarcasm beneath a flat tone of voice. I DELIVER. The way in which I say things is rarely, if ever, delivered in a tone of voice that denotes someone else’s perception. If I wanted to say something disrespectful and/or rude, I’d say it in a different tone than my normal speaking voice. I’m nothing if not a powerful speaker, and you can tell a lot by the tones I use, providing you a’re smart enough to realize something has shifted. Moreover, I’ve lost the ability to give a damn about how people interpret things. Buy a clue, stop being so anal-retentive, and realize that not everything I say or do revolves around you or has anything to do with you. Sometimes “Whatever.” really just means “Do what you want, I don’t have a preference.” Also, I don’t understand the double-standard of a person doing that to me, but disliking when I’m not feeling so great and say something similar. That’s not disrespectful. I am smart enough to know the difference.

5) When a person expresses extreme unhappiness, depression, and/or suicidal thoughts to you, it is NOT okay to act like that’s no big deal. NOT EVER. Don’t claim to love someone and then abandon them to their pain. I assure you, that is not love.

6) Do no harm, but take no shit.

7) It is a hell of a lot more powerful to destroy a person with words than to do so physically. I highly recommend the former, especially if, like me, you are gifted with words.

If you feel the urge to hit someone, it’s often better to hit back with the appropriate statement. If you’re a passive, non-confrontational sort, as so many people are, it’s okay to say how you feel in private and cut someone out of your life. It’s okay to write about it and get it out of your system. Don’t be afraid to rid yourself of the toxicity, and make no apologies for it.

8) Unfortunately, some people think they can say anything to you. They can’t. Their assumptions, presumptions, and idiocy need to be nipped in the bud. Much like the filter in a Brita pitcher, which needs to be replaced every 60 days, you might want to suggest they have their internal filter(s) checked regularly, lest they run into some form of ‘water-poisoning’.

9) Never disrespect the person that does the cooking. This is absolute. If you don’t like something and it doesn’t adversely effect your health, pretend to be deaf, dumb, and completely fucking blind, but by G-d, do NOT be rude and ungrateful. Also, call if you’re going to be late.

10) If you can’t say it to my face, you’re a fucking coward.

11) If you do say it to my face, be prepared for the outcome.

12) Don’t say shit in a text message or e-mail that you wouldn’t dare say to a person’s face. It’s cowardly, classless, childish, and a host of other things that just plain annoy me. If you’re going to show your true colors, I want to be able to see the vivid yellow stripe down your back.

13) Assumptions are the death of so much. They’re major relationship killers. Don’t assume things.

14) The people you may know who suffer from any chronic, debilitating illness and are on disability, privately wealthy, or work from home in some capacity are, in all likelihood, NOT “sitting at home all day watching TV”. Strictly speaking, I fall into the category of a disabled person who works from home, at least for now (the “work from home” part applies). If I’m “sitting”, it’s because I’m writing. I’m not “being lazy”. And NO, writing is not “some hobby I have”. Introduce me to the hobbyist writer who’s been doing it for 29 years. I have yet to meet one.

15) Curb the douchebag tendencies. Curb the bitchiness. There is always a better, clearer way to communicate.

16) Sometimes a person doesn’t hear you, usually for an extremely valid reason. That does not mean they aren’t listening. It is not a tragedy to repeat yourself.

In situations like this, I remember my Grandmother, an absolute saint of a woman, who would patiently have the same conversation with one of her best friends sometimes a dozen times a day once this friend was stricken with Alzheimer’s. Never once did she tell her “We just talked about this five minutes ago.” or ever let on that they’d spoken so many times about any particular topic. She would patiently and calmly repeat what she’d said in the previous conversation, reassure her, she was always kind, and when the phone rang again, sometimes a minute or two later, she would simply repeat the entire process, and continued to do so as often as necessary. She NEVER complained about it. They do not make them like her any more. 😦 It baffles me how long she’s been gone because I feel like I just spoke to her yesterday. I am glad our last words spoken were of love. There are so many people who could take a lesson in patience and grace from her.

17) Take moments each day to enjoy something. It might be your morning coffee/tea, a long walk, the sun, the moon, the crystal clear sky full of stars. Choose something each day and let that be yours.

18) People are not predominantly good. It’s a simple fact of life. Be discerning in those you allow around you because some energy is so toxic, it can physically make you ill. If you feel drained in a person’s presence, they are likely a psychic vampire. Google it, I can’t make this shit up.

19) Unless you legitimately suffer from multiple personalities, there’s no need to go from on to off a hundred times a day, or more. Pick a personality everyone likes and stick with it. Your mood swings, be they due to an illness or not, shouldn’t blow so hot and cold that a person could take a shower standing next to you. Perhaps a trip to the doctor is in order?

20) When in doubt, treat people the way you want to be treated. We all have bad habits and idiosyncrasies, but are we capable of coexisting? Yes.

21) If you’ve had a bad day, just say so. It’s easier to say you need/want space and don’t want to talk as opposed to thundering in on someone and being so unpleasant that they cannot stand to be in your presence.

22) If you cannot empathize with someone, I think it’s best to keep your fucking mouth shut, as opposed to judging when you’re completely not “in the know”. That pisses me off. Judging situations you aren’t privy to is a secondary mistake. You can’t apologize once the judgment has come out of your mouth or been put in some form of print. Well, maybe you can apologize to someone who’ll accept it, but I won’t.

23) Just because I’m an introvert does not mean I am a negative, unpleasant person. Some of the most talented people on the planet are introverts. A great deal of them are wonderful human beings. In the right setting with the right people, I am always an introverted extrovert, but I do not respond kindly to negative people or toxic energy. Please refer to #6.

24) Sometimes I am incredibly silent, but that doesn’t mean I’m not paying attention.

25) Random acts of kindness are important. Do things that you’d want done if it were you, your siblings, or your children/nieces/nephews in a bad situation. Prepare a meal for a homeless person or volunteer at a shelter. It might seem like a small thing, but to someone else, it’s HUGE.

26) Choose a charity and do what you can, even if it’s not a financial contribution. Delete Blood Cancer is looking for plasma, stem cell, and bone marrow donors. I cannot donate because I have Fibromyalgia (I still plan on doing an event as soon as I am settled into this new community.), but if you’re healthy and can get swabbed (they send you a kit in the mail), you could very well save a life, or multiple lives. I’ve included a link, and if that doesn’t feel right to you, choose something that does. We all have causes that are close to our hearts, or at the very least, we should.

27) Don’t sacrifice yourself for anything and everything. If you know a person would sacrifice for you, don’t take that, or them, for granted.

28) It’s okay to say no or to admit you don’t want to do something. Being honest isn’t a crime…yet.

29) Choose your friends wisely. I have friendships that have outlived marriages, relationships, other friendships, and endured serious illnesses, the arrival and loss of children and other family members, etc. Treat your circle with the same level of love and respect as the circle treats you. Check in with people when you haven’t heard from them. I have a few friends with whom I always check in on. Not because I have to, but because I want to. It means the world to them to get an e-mail or voicemail message because they know my heart and they know I am genuine in my concern and love for them. I wish I had people like that in my life who were as loyal and loved with some fierceness, but when they made me, they broke the mold and beat the hell out of the mold-maker. 😉

30) Do not harm, but take NO SHIT. (Because it bears repeating.)

Basically, no one is going to flog you for your imperfections, so go out there and BE YOU.

Manic Mondays

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I hope everyone had a wonderful weekend and start to the year. Mine started off decently enough, migraines notwithstanding, and then I ended up in Urgent Care Saturday afternoon.

I legitimately thought I was having one of those days where putting contact lenses in simply wasn’t going to happen. Normally this only happens once in a while during the summer, but after having no problem with the first one, I proceeded as usual. The other lens caused excruciating pain I’ve never felt before (at least not in my eye) within 10-15 seconds of it going in. It took me roughly ten minutes to pry the lens out of my left eye by force, because the pain was unbelievable and the body’s immediate defense is to practically lock the top lid down, which only makes it worse. I was actually screaming as I tried to remove it, and both of my eyes were tearing. It was not a good moment for me and I’m glad no one was here because I scared the hell out of myself, G-d only knows how someone else might have reacted to my shrieking like a banshee. I tossed the lens immediately because I couldn’t see a tear or a micro-tear to have caused a problem, but I wasn’t about to fight with a thin piece of plastic, it’s just not worth it. When in doubt, throw it out.

Unfortunately after that, I was temporarily unable to see a damn thing out of that eye, which scared the crap out of me. My eye swelled up, was bright red, and I couldn’t open it until a few hours later. In some type of solidarity, my right eye also swelled up. Thankfully Urgent Care was quick, efficient, and verified that I have a scratched cornea beneath my pupil. I was pretty certain that’s what it was after deciding I likely hadn’t had a stroke (It was that scary, I’m not dramatic. Plus, women don’t always experience traditional stroke symptoms, so I had just cause to be concerned.). It takes a LOT for me to seek medical attention because, over time and through much negative experience, I’ve lost all respect for the medical field on a whole. I’m tired of being treated like crap all across the board, but when it comes to my vision, there’s no negotiation. I am grateful it is something simple that is treatable. I’ll be better later this week. In the meantime, I have a “fun” antibiotic gel to help it heal and to spice things up with some humor, my brother called yesterday afternoon to find out if they gave me an eye patch. I should have said “Yes, and I’m hoping to be an extra in the next Pirates of the Caribbean movie.”, but the question caught me off-guard and I momentarily thought he’d lost his marbles.

And so, I sit here stressed, sleep-deprived, contemplating writing a number of different things, with little energy to do much of anything. I have often said that anger fuels me to be a better person, and at times, it does, but this morning I discovered that the flip side of anger can easily poison the mind and make you hostile and bitter. I’m lethal enough on my own, I certainly don’t need anger to fuel rage or any other negative emotion. I am glad I was able to see it for myself, not allow my own brain to poison me, and did something productive by talking about what I am going to do to nip that thought process in the bud, because in all likelihood, it will continue to creep in and I’m trying to move forward, not take a giant leap back into muddy waters. I don’t like involving Western medicine to handle this sort of thing, but it’s technically the only option I have at the moment, so I’m going to give it a shot. I spoke with my doctor and he suggested cutting the pills in half so that I don’t get slammed by coma-like drowsiness. The second I caught myself “going to the dark side”, I grabbed the bottle out of the drawer and began cutting a few pills in half. Perhaps tonight, I will sleep like a regularly scheduled human-being, because between last night and today, sleep was a cute little joke waving to me from a billboard. 😦 I wasn’t the least bit amused.

The other day someone e-mailed me about Fibromyalgia surgery in Dublin, Ireland. No matter how much research I did, there was no information available about this so-called “surgery that stops the center of the pain”. If Fibromyalgia is triggered by something in the brain, wouldn’t that, in all likelihood, be some form of brain surgery?

What I did find in my research is a toxin draining program which makes little sense to me since flushing toxins out of the lymph nodes need not cost somewhere between $800-$1100. While it claims to have an 80% success rate within 8-12 weeks, people who have actually completed 12-18 weeks of the program in the desperate hope to come away pain-free experienced no difference in their pain levels at all, just a vast decrease in their bank account. 😦 I strongly urge people to be aware of things of this nature. Yes, every Fibro patient on the planet would probably eat bark every day for a month if it was guaranteed to cure them, but we often forget that there is currently no approved cure. There are treatments in the works, but there is currently no cure. When there is, there will be a collective sigh of relief from sufferers all over the world, but until that day, don’t fall for bullshit that is going to leave you broke. Research DIY ways of flushing toxins out of your system, if you so desire, but until you know 10-20 other people who’ve successfully received a treatment method, do what is right for you, not what others claim has a chance of helping. There’s a strong chance it will snow tonight, someplace, somewhere, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to wake up to a winter wonderland, or be healed.

If you love someone who sufferers from the debilitating disease that is Fibromyalgia, I assure you they’re not “being lazy” or “sitting around doing nothing”. They’re in real pain. They will tell you they’re okay and cry privately. My family sees me limping around, barely able to move much of the time despite the fact that I push myself so much these days, but often expect me to do things “like a normal, healthy person” because even after all these years, it still has not sunk in that I’m legitimately not well.

Everyone wants the athletic, healthy Lisa back, and so do I, but the more I have to hear about how I’m “ALWAYS sick”, the worse it makes the pain. Stress exacerbates Fibromyalgia. It’s important to leave your personal expectations on the side of a road, cover them with dirt, and look closely at your loved one’s face. No one should have to mask their pain, sensitivity to light and sound, or any other symptom in order to make you feel better about yourself. We’re suffering, don’t make it worse for us. And if you cannot stick it out, for whatever reason, be honest, and please let the door hit you where the Good Lord split you.

I’ve Got Nothing!

2016-01-022016-01-03 Miss Poison Confidence, Creativity, Experience, Honesty, Inspiration, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writer, Writers, Writing Creativity, Experience, Fiction, Goals, Honesty, Non-Fiction, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writers, Writing

I wish I had a dose of wisdom to bestow upon you today, but I don’t. I wish I had something to give that somehow made even just one person’s day brighter or easier, but I’ve got nothing. I am all out of poignancy at the moment. 😦 The thought is disheartening, to say the least.

I had an amazing character idea come to me in the shower the other day. Normally I would have immediately taken notes and elaborate on that idea, but I’ve decided to let it simmer inside my head. My fictional characters are loosely based off of people in my life. Some, not all. Many are an amalgamation of many people rolled into one. If a person is deeply entrenched in my life, they’re probably not safe showing off all of their character flaws in front of me. There’s this awesome mug I want and it says “Piss Me Off: Pay The Consequences”. As a writer, I definitely get my best revenge in print. Nine times out of ten, no one even knows what I am talking about, and that just goes to show you how unaware they are. Me? I’m self-aware and I’m glad for that because if someone were, on the off-chance, to write about me, they’re not smart enough or subtle enough for me to miss it. Reading between the lines is a special gift.

Call me crazy, but I don’t feel the need to make a laundry list of “2016 Writer’s Goals”. I’ve seen about a thousand of them on Twitter and they almost all say the same shit, ad nauseam. This year, I enter my 29th year as a writer. Far too many newbies discredit experience, mostly because they don’t have any to speak of. There is much to be said for the experienced writer who is comfortable in his or her own skin and mind.

The handful of times I have doubted aspects of my fictional work, a little voice would pop into my head and say “Pssh! You’ve written SO much. You’re attentive to the point of it being creepy. You’ve GOT THIS!” That is experience whispering in your ear; much like the angel/devil on each shoulder that some people like to speak of. My inner voice doesn’t lie, but people do, so I don’t put a lot of stock into a handful of people “loving it”. I’ve learned that a lot of people are scared to challenge me when it comes to my work or my words (and sadly, in my life in general), and so they will agree with me as opposed to saying “I didn’t really like or understand this part, can you elaborate?” I’m not SO bad that people have to fear asking a question or disagreeing with me, but apparently I am intimidating and intense, though my closest friends only see this on occasion, it is not a daily occurrence.

Finding people who will challenge you, and not agree with every single thing you say, is crucial for any writer (or artistic creator). The few friends I have that do write are relieved that I don’t sugarcoat things. They know they can present their work to me and get an unbiased, honest thought process. They know I will push them to produce their best work. Honesty is a foundation of greatness, especially for the truly creative soul. I’d rather someone speak the truth as opposed to be fake with me, and this expands to all aspects of my life. I’m confident enough in my talents, but if I trust you enough to share my work ahead of publication, it’s okay not to like something. I will not bash you with a hockey stick for being real. I’m tough, but I’m not THAT bad. 😉

I think I’d be remiss if I didn’t say that it is important as a writer to take stock of your health. You can spend 16-20 hours a day in front of the computer, and while that might get you a completed manuscript or a ton of smaller completed projects, it can also lead to carpal tunnel syndrome. I know because mine required a LOT of rest and slowing down in order to go into “remission”. To this day, I still experience some pain in my hands and wrists and actual weakness in both hands when I overdo it, but thankfully it’s not daily. Don’t take your hands for granted; you only get two, if you’re lucky.

Posture is everything. Don’t slouch at the computer. If you feel your shoulders begin to touch your ears, you’re stressed and you’ve been sitting there way too long. It is time to take a break, straighten your neck/back. get some stretching in, and take a walk. You will already find that staring at the screen isn’t helpful, or productive. Magical words will not flow out of your fingertips. Step away and stop touching your face when you’re doing the slouch of exasperation in front of the computer. Sometimes it’s a good idea to pick up a notebook and a pen and make notes for a while, it often leads to a better period of writing because it helps spark creativity. I have always found that if I jot down 1-5 pages of notes, ideas, or dialogue, it will later result in roughly 15-30, or more, pages of high quality work that I am proud of. I type more than I write by hand, so when I’m filling up notebooks, you know I’ve got a dozen tricks up my sleeve.

I’d rather write 300 pages of my best work, than 600 pages that aren’t cohesive in the story-telling. I have to be able to read it from start to finish and say “Wow! This is really good! Who wrote this?” I have to be able to get lost in it. I have to be able to impress myself; no one else. I am not the first writer to exist and I am certainly not going to be the last, but I do have to be a captive audience.

Okay, so apparently I DID have something to offer today. I’ll celebrate that fact later. 😛

Carry on everyone, and unleash some genuine creativity this weekend.

One Of Those Moods

2015-12-272015-12-28 Miss Poison December, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writing Acceptance Of Self, Christmas, Cooking, Family, Fibromyalgia, Life, Migraines, Moods, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writing

We’ve all, at one point or another during the course of our lives, been in “one of those moods”. No one on this planet is ecstatic in their happiness at all times. If they were, there would be no such thing as mental illness or anti-depressants. There would be no practical need for such medication, and psychiatrists would all have to retire or find another form of medicine in which to work. Since we do not live in any kind of euphoric utopia where all is right in the world, we all tend to have moments where we hit walls, patches that derail us, and/or get into a “funk” from time-to-time.

For some, these things go on for years before something happens to change those feelings, whether it be medical intervention or something more. It’s human and normal. There’s no such thing as perfect happiness 24/7, and anyone that tries to feed you that line is likely selling something, or trying to convert you to Scientology (It had to be said.).

It bothers people who I am not this warm, welcoming, smiling, blissfully happy idiot. But it doesn’t bother me. I prefer to be warm and welcoming to those I genuinely like. I prefer to laugh with people when something is truly funny, and I choose to be happy during times of real happiness. I accept life, to a degree, on a day-to-day basis. Maybe I’d be happier if I didn’t suffer from so much pain, who knows? But on a realistic level, I have always known I am “other”, that I don’t blend in to the woodwork, and I learned to be okay with that. Acceptance of others begins with acceptance of self. I live with me every single day and ultimately, I have to like who I am as a person, live fully in my skin, and be content in my company. I’m not responsible for how anyone else perceives me.

I’ve never pretended that the holidays are an easy time for me. They’re not, and I’m quite open about that fact. This year though, I’ve had bigger fish to fry and it wasn’t weighing heavy on my mind or heart.

Christmas Eve was spent recovering from a migraine (I’ve been dealing with a lot of them.), and later on in the day, enjoying time with my family. Being Jewish, Christmas itself is just another day on the calendar, but I do try to make a nice meal and do something quiet and enjoyable for those I may be with. Normally it’s a movie and a really awesome home-cooked meal, even if it’s a DVD/Blu-Ray at home, it’s still something oriented around being together. This year, I focused mainly on cooking, which is something I absolutely love doing. Cooking solely for myself isn’t always fun, but cooking for a few people (or more) makes me happy. I did want to take photos of the table and the meal itself, but I got distracted, so maybe next year? 😉

This week I will be busy with as much writing as I can cram into my days. There’s so much going on in my head, and the best therapy in the world is getting it written. I also have to get caught up on all the book and beauty reviews I have committed to.

I think as I write, my mood will shift into one of focus, and I’ll be able to purge some of what I am feeling. Moving into 2016 has all kinds of positive potential for me, and the best thing for me to do is think ahead, look forward, and don’t turn around. In a way, my mind is already shielding me from the trauma I have endured, and there’s simply so much of it at the moment. A lot of it is old, some of it is brand new, but I need to focus and let it go. I need to be healthier for myself. Perhaps I’ll take up yoga or something that allows me to be calm and collected. Who knows.

I hope everyone was able to spend their respective holidays in a manner that made them happy.

Being able to write this without interruption has shifted my mood quite a bit. After all, tomorrow is a brand new day. 🙂

Live your life the way you choose, and follow your passions, or misery will accompany far too many days.

11403477_1129346950416011_8578573814850287181_n — I’ve been in such horrible pain for the past ten days or so, and there is snow in the forecast starting Monday night, so I am more than a little hesitant to get too excited about my pain levels tapering off. I truly hate this disease!

Darkness, Light, & Slowing Down

2015-12-25 Miss Poison Chronic Pain, Fibromyalgia, Life, Migraines, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writing Betrayal, Cat and Kitten, Insomnia, Life, Migraines, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Stress, Writing

Hi everyone! I apologize for being too tired and too sick to write this earlier in the week. I’m trying to get used to being back online. I legitimately hadn’t turned my computer on since my post on the 13th. I saw no point in tormenting myself. My phone allows me to check what’s going on here, but it does not allow me to login and/or post anything. I haven’t figured decided if it’s something I’m doing wrong or if I’m simply too stupid to figure it out. Anything, even a combination thereof, is a strong possibility.

I’ve battled a lot of Fibromyalgia pain and migraines since arriving up North. Every single time the weather was supposed to be a certain way, my body was the indicator that things were about to change. The pain index is slightly higher here, so adjusting to that is going to take some serious getting used to. Factor in some super cold days/nights that have occurred since my arrival, and I’m lucky I’m not in the emergency room.

I’ve truly spent more time in pain than anything else. At the moment, walking is the single most excruciating thing I can do. I don’t have out-of-network benefits, so I have to get my insurance squared away here ASAP, lest I end up with an epic emergency room bill due to my traitorous feet. 😦 I will be shocked if I don’t have fractured or slightly more damaged bones in both feet. Well and truly shocked. To add insult to injury, I’ve had some pretty brutal migraines. I am torn between desperately wanting to eat everything in sight and not wanting so much as a bowl of soup because I’m constantly worried something will trigger a headache that I cannot cope with. I’ve been slowly nursing coconut water to rehydrate, but I keep asking myself how many rounds of medicine I need to take to be rid of this insidious creature. 😦

I feel much like I imagine a caged lion feels; pacing back and forth in an enclosure at the zoo. I suspect I feel this way partly because Cat & Kitten are currently in a separate room to give OGK (Original Gangster Kitty, which is clearly not his real name) time to adjust to having “roommates”. They need time to adjustment too.

The first run-in had Kitten jumping up onto a windowsill to gain higher ground from him chasing her, but she was so brave and I was very proud of how she handled herself. She did not try to hurt or attack him. During the process of that moment though, he scared Cat so badly that she slipped under a spot in a closet that led to the insulation in the roof. I had no idea if it led to other places within the house, so I was deeply concerned, but trying not to panic because cats can pick up on your anxiety and I did not want to make Kitten panicked as well. After less than 48 hours (which is a LONG time because she doesn’t meow), a handyman had to be called to remove panels so that she could be safely located. I was SO relieved after she came out of that hiding spot. I needed to hold her close to me and let her know that she is loved, safe, and that I have not abandoned her. Unfortunately she spent a few days hissing and spitting, so I had to move her to a safer location with a blanket, after getting her out from beneath a dresser and blocking all other access points to dangerous hiding spots. I lured her out with a few treats (I figured after not eating for several days, she had to be starving.) and a small bowl of food. I gave her some space and now she’s not hiding nearly as much. In fact, she’s coming down the stairs and checking the place out. Mostly, she is marking her territory and making sure everything I own still smells like the person she knows belongs to her. No one is cute enough for me to cheat on Cat and Kitten. 😉

The second run-in was the other morning when Cat went flying down the stairs while I was trying to go into the room to feed them and spend some time giving them love and attention. I decided the worst that could happen was her running back to me, which she’s done many times, only because I had things in my arms and couldn’t scoop her up as I normally would. Of course, my “worst case scenario” is not what happened. They met in the kitchen, which I only managed to witness by dropping everything I was holding and going after her. Initially he was calm and laid back, but in the blink of an eye, everything changed. He chased her from the kitchen up the stairs into the room and there was a major growling, hissing, spitting period between both of them. He wouldn’t let up, even once she was quiet. I tried breaking them up so that she wouldn’t freak out (she was hiding under a different dresser where he’d cornered her) and he turned around and whacked me. Normally, he’s pretty laid back, sweet, and loving, but as an older cat who hasn’t had to share his domain at all since being rescued, he’s über territorial, which is understandable.

Once I separated them into different rooms, I did go back and calm Cat & Kitten down because, quite frankly, they’re still babies and have never dealt with such aggression. I barely even raise my voice around them (I once yelled during a sporting event and somehow managed to scare the crap out of Cat. Neither of them responds well to loud noises or voices, and I don’t blame them.) and once they both reached the proper size, they had free reign of their home. Separation, while for everyone’s best interest, is clearly upsetting all of us. Despite the Feliway diffuser (Thank you PetSmart for giving me 20% off because it was on sale and you only had one left. I was really impressed by the gesture, and I appreciated it.), things are not okay in “cat land” and it’s making me sick on a daily basis. While I do not expect perfection, I do need to reach a point where my girls are no longer being bullied and kept in one room where they spend 90% of their time without me. He doesn’t have to love the girls, they simply have to co-exist. Trust me, the little one can take him (She’s an Alpha.), but if you’re still growing into yourself and a big, black cat that isn’t your sister chases after you, your little butt is going to run for safety. I don’t like it though, not one bit. Plus, it upsets him and makes him sick, and as a diabetic cat, I have to watch out for his health too. At first he simply wanted to smell them, which is natural cat curiosity, so I gave him their blankets and some other things to help him acclimate to that, but now he’s feeling froggy and wants to intimidate. Not acceptable. They have another week or so before I will start to allow the girls out more and more so that he learns to share and adapt. They’re doing their best, despite setbacks. Me? Just this aspect of disruption to my daily life is making me ill. I have raised Cat and Kitten since they were tiny, so my love for them is borderline obsessive. I am happiest with them and they are happiest with me.

I have been horrible on a work-level over the past ten days or so. I’m stressed and sleeping horribly, so my creativity ebbs and flows in weird ways. Here’s one thing I have noticed, over time, about being a writer: I use my laptop damn near every single day. Last week I decided to pick up a pen and take some notes for ideas for things I wanted to discuss. I have no clue when my handwriting became damn near illegible, so I wonder if anyone else has this problem? Do you find writing a few pages by hand to no longer feel “right” and/or cause you physical pain? I only had one person to consult on this matter and he agreed that due to constant computer use, his handwriting has become worse and it actually hurts to hold a pen for longer than it takes to make a grocery list. I imagine this is more common than one might think. I do hope I am able to get more work done next week. I’m going to take an hour or so this weekend and map some things out for myself. When in doubt, PLAN.

So, that has been my life for a while. I know things will improve. Without darkness there cannot be light, but it’s also okay to slow the fuck down and focus. That’s what I intend to do. I’ve been dragged down by a lot of horrible shit for far too long and I want things to improve. Part of improving means fully disengaging from that which has caused me agony.

On occasion, a person does not believe me when I say I’m done, but this time my words, my text messages; they’re the end. You cannot help everyone and you cannot save the world. Not everyone wants to be saved. Some people want to drown in a terrible abyss and you have to let them so that they learn their life’s lesson, whatever it may be. Good luck and G-d Bless. I’m done, you’re on your own. For the record, none of us are horrible people for expecting someone to have their shit together and not fuck up in horrible, irrevocable ways. But when they do, it is okay to set a limit and walk away. You do not deserve to be dragged down with someone who refuses to realize that everything they do is wrong. Slightly cryptic, I know, but this is something I needed to say for me.

I hope everyone has a fantastic Friday.