I will write about it as soon as I settle down into a calmer frame of mind, but for now, I feel like this is the only warning I can give certain types of people.
Poison In Lethal Doses
Telehealth and A Scheduled Appointment
After a failed attempt last month to have a discussion with my headache specialist regarding my migraines getting worse, today was my first successful Telehealth discussion, and it felt good. Really good.
If you have a doctor who actually cares, regardless of their field, this is not a difficult process. However, it has lead me to realize that my headache specialist has no patience and is a difficult person. I respect her, but I can’t work with someone who has no respect for me as a patient. I’m just a medical record number to her. There are many appointments where she spends a good five minutes reciting names, and the entire time, I know she’s looking for me, but since she doesn’t look at anyone, it’s good to wait until you hear some version of your name. She usually starts with Erica, and unless I see Erica there, because I’ve learned who is scheduled at the same time as me, then I immediately know she will eventually have a practice assistant approach her to read the proper name off the paper in her hand. She never seems to recall even the most basic info about me, so I wait until she logs into her computer. When a physician has said to you, on four separate occasions, “Is this your first visit?”, it’s startling that faces are blending into the woodwork for them.
Moreover, there is never a valid reason for a doctor to raise their voice and/or yell at you, but she felt perfectly comfortable doing so over the phone. If you’re going to yell at me and talk to me like I’m a moron, it will never get you the desired response. Not ever. I’m not an idiot and I am not new to any of what I am experiencing. Doctors who talk down to you aren’t doctors you need in your life. I feel the same way about regular people, too.
If you suffer from chronic migraines, you probably already know that enormous doses of vitamin B2 and magnesium aren’t going to fix anything. I can only take the magnesium once every few days. and B2 doesn’t seem to make any kind of difference. This is not my first migraine rodeo. She shouldn’t tell me it’s “perfectly safe” when she didn’t bother to see if I am vitamin deficient before demanding I increase my supplements. Instead, she placed blame on a myriad of other issues, and then tried passing the buck to another doctor. That’s not going to work with me because I’m an educated patient and her screaming at me did not garner a positive reaction.
What galls me even more is that she actually billed for a conversation that didn’t even last ten minutes. I contemplated a phone call to my insurance company about this, since their requirements state it must be at least fifteen to twenty minutes via phone in order for any of my healthcare providers to bill for Telehealth, but since they already paid, I’m not going to argue the point. Yes, we all deserve to be compensated for our time, but rules ARE rules and she dismissed me, as opposed to having an intelligent discussion. I am going to ask for a secondary neurologist (as an alternative opinion) as soon as things are safe to proceed medically because she doesn’t want to order tests or talk over treatment plans with me. She is the first neurologist who refuses to put an emergency plan in place into my chart. Every other neurologist handed me a note for any potential trips to the emergency room because every emergency room or Urgent Care finds it so much easier to treat you if they have instructions on how to do it. We are all different and what works for Patient A and Patient B probably doesn’t work for me. I refuse to set foot in an emergency room ever again, but even my last Urgent Care experience was poor care, and it didn’t even involve migraines. Poor care seems to be the status quo, but I am fighting to change that because I’m not the only person who has had enough of the bullshit.
This incident made me even more grateful to have a tuned in discussion with someone today, and to have the take away be that I am doing my best and that the things that are creeping up out of the woodwork are things we will address and gain control of over time. A collaborative relationship is so much easier, and calmer, than a relationship where a physician thinks they can dictate your treatment to you. I hope she doesn’t have children, grandchildren, pets, or even a plant, because I’ve found, over time, that the way the majority of medical professionals behave at work is also how they behave in their daily lives. Others are clearly living a duplicitous existence because they’re only nice to their family or their patients, not both. Yes, I speak from personal experience.
Today, I was notified that my headache specialist will be honoring my treatment for this coming Wednesday. Do I think it’s an essential appointment? I don’t know, but I do know that I’m sick and that I would likely get worse without it. Thanks to a cancellation, my appointment was moved up, so that helps a bit, but having to wear a mask and gloves into a medical building is anxiety waiting to happen. The mask makes me terribly claustrophobic. I’m agitated just thinking about it. A lot has changed since my last treatment in February. I am hoping this one works well and that I am not in the building any longer than necessary. If I didn’t feel the treatment was working, I would reschedule, but I’m going. The mask and gloves redefine “Mugger Chic”. 😉
I am not feeling anxious or stressed over Covid 19. I’m just more self-aware and mindful regarding everything, and I am sure many of us feel the same way.
I’ll be fine and I have another Telehealth conversation scheduled for next Friday, so if I’m not fine, there’s someone on the other end who gives a shit, and that is comforting to know.
© 2020 by Lisa Marino and Blackbird Serenity, LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
Holding Pattern
Almost two weeks ago, I fell. It was as if my right leg had been taken away for a minute or so. The aftermath left me wondering how bad my knee is, as well as my ankle and foot. I quietly reduced the ankle swelling, but I’ve also walked on broken bones in my foot and toes for months until the issue became something larger. If you were to look at x-rays of my feet, you would see healed fractures and probably some damage to repeatedly broken toes. They never heal perfectly, and I’ve smashed into two more times than I care to count. I no longer walk around barefoot. I’m lucky; they still look okay on the outside.
Last week, my doctor took me out of play. I was only allowed to be on my leg for important things, and not for long periods of time because I’m still limping. For me, the concern was that limping was putting undue pressure on my hip bones as I awkwardly toddled around. Painfully. He emailed me care instructions. Elevate. Ice. Heat, if need be, but mostly “Stay off of your leg as much as you can. Rest. Your body needs to heal. Your muscles need the break.” I was SO anxious and upset before calling, but his staff put me at ease and so did he.
Unfortunately, my body is taking a beating this month. There was a windstorm last Friday and as a result, the storm door blew out and when it blew back in, with me leaning down to grab a box at the door, it smashed into the top of my head. It was an insulting kind of whack. I’ve certainly experienced worse, but man, it was unkind.
This almost finished week had me stressed and unsettled. Monday I desperately needed more sleep than any individual should need. Tuesday I got a text at 6:30 in the morning and it was a person asking about my appointment. If I had slept another thirty minutes or so, I would not have made it to the scheduled appointment on time. I did, and because I had limped around over the weekend and helped bring groceries in up and down a flight of stairs, I found that my knee was sore, but I didn’t feel like it was broken, so I ran an errand because I had already found that I couldn’t get what I needed delivered. Trust me, if a company had been willing to send me same-day cat supplies (precisely in the order I need it in, which is slightly scrambled because I’ve got picky felines) and human food (I had a list on my phone and only returned with a few things. I just didn’t feel THAT great.), I would have stayed in my pajamas and waited for said deliveries. Alas, I paid for that move on Wednesday and Thursday when I wished I hadn’t fallen at all. I am not a good wounded person. I suppose no one is.
My ankle and foot, that spot where they meet? That’s where I did damage. I already knew it, because I can feel it, and my results after x-rays and a scan on Friday was tears to the Anterior and Posterior TaloFibular ligaments, as well as a third ligament tear. 🤦 I have a fracture in one toe. My knee has a tendon healing. I’m mostly grounded for the next 6-8 weeks (I was told I can walk around “gingerly” if no one can help me with things.) to make sure it’s all completely healed. They ordered a brace for my ankle, which is naturally on back order. 🙄 I’m disgusted. Especially since I have to follow up with an orthopedic surgeon. Even better, the radiology department called to let me know that they didn’t see it initially, but that I also have a hairline fracture to a bone in my foot. These people let me go home without a boot or a wrapped ankle. I asked and they stared at me like I was crazy. They did not ask if I was in pain or ask for my “pain number”, which is pretty standard procedure everywhere. I can walk in for a cold and will be asked about my pain level. I see my doctor in three weeks, but I’m afraid to even mention my pain because finding a good doctor is hard enough. No one should feel this way.
Worse, I am in this awkward holding pattern. I can *maybe* pick up groceries, but lifting them up a flight of stairs with my injuries was heavily discouraged. Mind you, they did not send over twelve guys to help with things I do during the course of a week. Laundry, cleaning the bathroom and bathtub, wiping the windows down with Windex (so my cats can drool on the picture window and make it look like I don’t clean it, EVER. Why are they drooling over birds and squirrels, anyway?!), vacuuming (which my cats screw up in fifteen minutes, so I end up frustrated when it looks like I didn’t do anything.), and other things no one even notices. I also changed my hair color this week, not a single person noticed. I mean, you can’t miss it. It’s a completely different shade of red. Whatever. <rolls eyes> I sometimes cook 4-6 nights a week, too. Again, they did not send assistance home with me, but I did leave with a worse cough, so there’s the gift that keeps on giving. #Cesspool
Yes, I have plenty of writing to do. Three manuscripts in progress. Twenty-six actual scripts to write for a new project I committed to. Plus, regular writing. However, that’s what I call shutting down into the abyss. It’s not completely healthy. A friend kindly pointed out that two months is a LONG time to heal. I said, “I’ll be productive with all the writing I have to do.” But the truth is; what if I’m not? Ugh. Doubt is a vicious creature. I’ll banish it on Tuesday. 😉
Hope you’ll all stick around with me.
XO,
copyright © 2020 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity, LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
A Changed Woman
I’ve been writing almost as long as I’ve been alive. I certainly recall times when being on the computer was not my first thought each day, but these past few months have taught me to back off. They’ve taught me patience, which is not an exact science (I’m still extremely impatient with myself, and with others.), and they’ve given me breathing room. A technological vacation, as it were.
My first thought each morning now is not to jump on the computer, or even to turn my phone on immediately. It’s to see what time it is, and not rush into the mind of a working writer. I knew there was a lesson to be learned. On days when I was frustrated and wanted to jump into writing, I allowed my mind to absorb the scenes I wanted to write. Sometimes I took pen to paper and wrote new things. Especially scenes I knew would be important for various projects. Inspiration is inspiration, and you never know when it’s going to hit you. I know it will make for richer story telling. Less filler; more depth.
I have read a LOT over these many months and I’ve had better focus and less force. I’m not stress-forcing my reading, “just to get it done” (I’m guilty of doing this with brand new novels.). I’m fully immersed in each story, now. If you haven’t read Blake Pierce’s work (They’re psychological thrillers/mysteries), I highly recommend it. They were books I could NOT stop reading. I still have 4-5 more to go. Good stuff. No one loves psychology more than I do and I’ve always respected a good psychological thriller. Each one reminds me why the movie, “The Cell”, is still a disturbingly fascinating tale to watch.
Reading a part of my beautiful manuscript last week was like coming home. I became deeply immersed in the story, to the point where I wasn’t looking for errors, issues, or plot holes. I was connecting to the story in a way I might not have if I’d kept writing over the summer. It’s important to see the gift within the chaos. Stepping away was actually healthy for me in a myriad of ways.
Watching myself NOT grab my laptop each morning within twenty minutes of waking up is the new normal. It’s smart and healthy, so now, I feel my time here will be more constructive overall.
I’ll be redesigning as I move forward and bringing a lot of new things on slowly. Each change will involve a formal announcement at least twenty-four hours ahead of time. Some things may come faster than I anticipate, but for now, I’m going to maintain the status quo.
I received a software delivery last week, so I’m able to fully focus on my works-in-progress. I love the new version, but am still trying to work my way through it since I’ve forgotten some of the more in-depth things I can do with it. It won’t take me long to adjust though, because I have used the same software consistently.
I’ve opened up my editing schedule for the last two weeks of January until the end of April, so if you’re looking for an editor, please message me for a contract and payment plan. If you’re looking for an editor with a graphic designer, I will cheerfully pass along your design business to a friend. She’s insanely talented.
After the holidays, I will have my files transferred. I’d rather get this back in two days, as opposed to “We’re really busy…”, which can turn into weeks. What I’m having done is simple, and will likely only take a few hours, but I am okay waiting because I have so much to focus on, for now. More than I can think about, really.
There’s likely more in my head than I can type for now, but simple gets the job done, too. Stay warm and keep cool, as we aren’t all in the same season or hemisphere.
copyright © 2019 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity, LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
Returned
It’s been over five months and I’ve missed you all SO MUCH. I wish I was in the perfect head-space for my return, but I’m not. Things have happened, and not happened. Things have been said and cannot be taken back. Things have been done, and subsequently, not done. People have come and gone, and I’m still pretty fed up and angry, which is justified. I’ve been bottling it all in this entire time, which has been difficult for me since I am a communicator, but I’m thrilled to be back here where being my authentic self is appreciated, respected, and dare I say, valued.
Health-wise, things have been rough. There’s been a lot of medical neglect from doctors who are seemingly both too arrogant and “too busy”. I am now under the care of a new primary care physician, so I’ll see how that goes long-term. At the end of this month, I go in for another round of treatment for chronic migraines. They have had their ups and downs. Summer was nightmarish for me with them, and I’ve recently begun getting regular headaches and tension headaches. Yeah, I know how that sounds, but when you suffer from migraines, you have to be certain what you have and how to treat it. A regular headache responds just fine to an OTC NSAID. Migraines do not.
Thanks to one of my best friends and my brother for gifting me a laptop for my birthday. It was the only gift I received in terms of the physical. It was also my only material goal for said birthday, and I’m immensely GRATEFUL to be back, even though this laptop is temporary and there’s a learning curve since the keyboard isn’t like my last two laptops, where I could type perfectly in the dark with zero errors. When you type as fast as I do, you can wear out the keys. This one is pretty solid, because the keyboard is completely different, but I’ll be okay. I still have software to buy, files to transfer, etc. I will get there slowly over the next few months. For now, just being able to talk to all of you is what I need.
I will continue the Black & White Photo Challenge until I hit two hundred days. I think that’s reasonable, and I’ve enjoyed doing it. Perhaps next year, I’ll do an HD color photo challenge. 🤷 We’ll see.
There will be add-ons and big changes over the coming year. I’ve had plenty of time to decide which direction I want to take this in and how big I want this to be. It’s time to expand and take some leaps of faith. Especially since so many people are supporting the expansion. Support doesn’t hurt.
I’ll be back with something more in-depth soon. For now, I need to get my head on straight and finish up my cleaning for the day. The fact that I went to bed early, woke up early, and did nearly all the cleaning I set out to do is miraculous. My body will either pay for it later or tomorrow, but pay for it, it shall.
I hope everyone gets the opportunity to enjoy their weekend. Have a good one, folks!
Reaching Out… What A Fucking Joke
**POTENTIAL TRIGGER WARNING**
I’ve reached a point in my mental health journey where I’m DONE. I’m not saying this lightly. I’m also not saying anything to seek attention. I’m just speaking. Period. It’s extremely important to be honest when discussing matters, such as this.
I’m sick of people, their snide, ignorant comments, the stigma of the uneducated, and I’m tired of all the excuses and bad behavior. I’m a human-being and I don’t want or need, “shiny, happy people” talking down to me. Who the fuck do some people think they are? 😠 At any given moment, you can be stricken, same as me. No one is immune.
In the past year, I have reached my maximum number of failed medications at around forty. Yes, you read that correctly. Forty drugs from the start of my original diagnosis, which was incorrect, until a month ago, when the final drug failed and made me wish I would just stop trying altogether. It was pointless. Perhaps I am, too.
I felt completely dead inside before starting this medication. I went into it 1000% unsure because I was preparing myself for the 50/50 possibility. This medication was an enormous risk. The failure of it made me sink. I looked around for quick sand, hoping it would swallow me up. I was, and still am, SO angry that this was other people’s “miracle medication” that gave them back some semblance of normalcy, if not restoring their lives entirely, but for me, it was yet another epic fail. If you heard me say this, you’d know I’m saying it flatly, with no inflection whatsoever. Speaking about it does not make me a “victim”; it just makes me extremely honest.
I’m SO unbelievably sick of people saying, “I’m here for you.”, or, “If I can help, just ask.” 🙄 I’m sorry, did I just roll my eyes out loud? Yeah, probably.
If you’re, “here for me”, then I would actually be seeing you or talking to you semi-regularly. If you want to help, find something within your means and do it. I am not in the correct headspace to give you an itemized list of “things that will help”.
When someone has the flu, you might bring them soup, juice, magazines, etc. Things to help them feel better or things to distract them from how awful they feel. Or maybe that’s just me. Why do people need a guide for everything they can research? For all the advanced technological access at our disposal, people never cease to amaze me with their utter laziness.
I feel ZERO comfort in reaching out, and I’m so sick of the word, “No.” when I do ask for help. I’m constantly being told I don’t know how to ask for help. I do, and asking is one dead-end at a time. I have stopped asking because I don’t have the trust to offer up anymore. I am not going around begging for people to care about me or what I’m going through. Because here’s the truth; “reaching out” is a fucking joke. If a person cares, they will reach out to you. And if they don’t, you have to understand that the majority of people have their heads shoved so far up their own ass, they can’t see a damn thing. Their world and yours do not mesh, and that’s okay. Rid yourself of those who do not come into your life on your frequency. You’re trying to grow and better yourself, and sometimes, that means growing apart.
In a world completely obsessed with social media, I decided to scale back quite a bit. By doing so, people did reach out to me, but ONLY so they could complain about things they’re going through. 🤦 It was very much a, “Are you okay?” and quickly became, “Because I have a lot to tell you.”, which made my head spin. It also made me angrier than a hornets nest after it has been kicked.
Why? Because the messages came from acquaintances, not my hardcore group of friends. I was put off by it, which might be slightly irrational, but I’m not going to sugarcoat how it made me feel.
If someone is expecting to see, “ALL of my posts” via social media, I’m mostly on Instagram these days. Some of those posts make it to Facebook, and some do not. It’s not the end of the damn world!
Whatever happened to asking a person directly, like a normal human-being? A phone call? A text? WhatsApp? Facebook Messenger? There’s more than one way to get in touch and stay in touch. Of course, you’d first have to prove you care and earn my trust to have access to my phone number for some of those methods of communication, but others are rather simple.
In the past year, I had a now former friend medication shame me. I was beyond suicidal at the time. I’m not sure if anyone knew, aside from my doctor. I wasn’t exactly shy about it, though. I was SO hurt by her comments about how I, “should stop taking that poison.” Yes, those were her exact words. If she tries to deny it, I have proof of her stupidity. I have her blocked on social media now because a REAL friend stands by you; they don’t judge.
This comment threw me for a loop. I read the initial message rule out in public, and I was incredibly insulted and hurt by it. Here I was, trusting her, and divulging something extremely painful, and she’s criticizing me. The ugliness of the comment is similar to telling a cancer patient to, “You should stop chemo. It’s poison.” 😠 No one does that though, do they? No, because they want their loved one to LIVE, to “beat cancer”. Apparently, people judge harshly when it’s medication they themselves have NEVER experienced.
Does anyone understand or realize that medication is often the difference between life and death for millions of people? I would NEVER tell someone to “Stop taking that poison.”, unless they were talking about street drugs, in which case I think we can ALL safely agree that it’s wise to get clean.
Instead of compassion, she showed me she’s an extremely ugly person, inside and out, which should have been the final nail in her coffin. Alas, when I schooled her, she didn’t apologize. Instead, she dug herself even deeper with her complete ignorance regarding depression and how it affects people. She went so far as to brag. “I’m ALWAYS HAPPY.”, she declared. Having written a character reference to a judge on her behalf, as she fought for sole custody of her youngest child, I beg to fucking differ, but I guess she’s not going to ever speak the truth because she refuses to see herself clearly. Denial is not just a river in Egypt. 😒
I don’t care what a friend comes to me with, they will NEVER hear me say, “I don’t know anything about it.” Let’s say I didn’t. On occasion it happens, but it takes less than ten minutes to educate yourself. That’s WHY we utilize search engines. Part of growth means constantly educating yourself. At least it does where I come from.
How is ANYONE over the age of twenty-five going through daily life without ANY knowledge about mental health? Please, elaborate. It’s 2019, and there are ZERO excuses for that level of ignorance. It’s inexcusable.
“Stop taking that poison.” Um, you admitted repeatedly that you guzzle down bottles of wine because you’re stressed, sad, not to mention, in compete denial of your true self, but medication is poison? Okay, wise one. 🙄 And by all means, FUCK OFF with your low level thought process. You’re not, “enlightened”; you’re fake and a complete fraud. I’m so glad to be rid of your drama, self-absorbed attitude, and your negativity.
Having me as a friend is something you should respect and appreciate because I don’t play games. You screw with me and my loyalty will become loyalty to myself, NOT to you.
Another now former friend was self-harming and as a result, extremely horrible things happened. I will not disclose the deeply private pain shared with me because I’m better than that. Yes, I’m angry as hell and would cheerfully share her name, address, and phone number, but again; I AM BETTER THAN THAT.
I proactively encouraged her to seek help. I was constantly consulted for advice regarding doctors, therapists, and medication. I could go back into my phone log app and count EVERY single phone call I took when I should have been sleeping, because apparently MY well-being was never more important than her incessant dialing.
I called various mental health clinics (from across the country) to see if they took her insurance. That, my dear readers, is a TRUE friend. I’ve gotta say, no one has EVER tried to help me like that, and truthfully, I’m smart enough not to allow myself to get to that point of no return.
Everything changed after all my guidance, though. I probably saved her life, but she thinks her part-time boyfriend is, and I quote, “Superman”. 🙄 You can think like that when you’re in single digits, but if you’re over twenty-five and have divulged an extremely abusive, manipulative, narcissistic relationship, one I witnessed in person, but you stay, then maybe, just maybe, you’re getting what you deserve because you aren’t smart enough to see things clearly, and you wrongly assume that a smart friend saying something about it automatically means that woman is jealous. Unless you live next door to a flagship Ulta, believe me when I say I’d NEVER be jealous of anything, and lately, even Ulta has lost its shine for me.
If you’re suffering, but have time to complain about how, “I gained fifteen pounds in a month.” because of depression medication, then maybe you need to sort out your priorities. I offered a list of medications where weight gain wasn’t a side effect. How did it turn out? I don’t fucking know. When a friend begs for your time and then blows you off, it’s perfectly acceptable to be silent until they apologize. It was her responsibility to make sure she didn’t permanently damage or destroy a long-term friendship. She didn’t make an effort whatsoever, though. That was her choice. Instead, she took the time one random Monday morning to “unfriend me” over a year later. Precisely who is the immature one here? I actually laughed. No one has to follow me on social media, and a real friend doesn’t announce it after years of calling you at all hours and pretending to love you like a sister. I decided this person was SO far gone that I wasn’t going to engage in the attention-seeking behavior they crave because she desperately needs this attention in order to feel “whole”. Except, the feeling is fleeting, and she will keep doing whatever it takes to get more. I should feel bad for her, but once I’m done, I’m DONE. I don’t give people the opportunity to come back, either. Friendship is a gift and a choice. If you throw it away, that’s on you.
When I started taking medication for depression, I gained over 250 pounds in two years. It wasn’t from food, it was a side effect of drugs forced upon me, because hospitalization was always a threat if you didn’t take the medication prescribed to you. I underwent a lot of blood tests to show where my medication levels were and they NEVER reached “therapeutic levels”, mostly because they weren’t the correct medications for what I truly suffer from. I’m under 5.4″ and I’m a former gymnast. Doctors didn’t care about the weight gain, they just kept pushing drugs at me. Some of these drugs will threaten everything you hold dear before you finally put a stop to it. But now, EVERYTHING is blamed on your weight. Sore throat? You should lose weight. Ear infection? Well, you need to lose weight. Migraines? Lose weight. Unexplainable chronic pain from head to toe? I was told I should get down to “sixty pounds” to be pain free. Yeah, I’d also be dead, but the doctor repeated it three times because I gave him the opportunity to self correct his words. He just kept repeating it, like he was the smartest person in the world. I should have punched him in the throat.
Over the past eleven years, I’ve gotten closer to my goal weight. I KNOW I can achieve the final goals and have lifelong results/benefits, but I’m sick of women being negative over five, ten, fifteen, or twenty-five pounds. I understand it being frustrating, but calling yourself, “fat” is ugly and unhealthy for the mind. When people constantly do it in front of me, I automatically wonder what they say about me behind my back. Unlike many people, I don’t judge my friends based on looks, age, skin color, country of origin, education level, or weight. I’m selective; not petty. I treat my friends the same way I’d want them to treat me, and rarely am I treated as I deserve.
When I hear your self-talk and criticism, I question what you say to and about me. I have about sixty pounds to go. It seems like a lot more on a smaller frame, but whenever I hear, “You REALLY have SUCH a beautiful face.”, it’s actually a backhanded comment about how I’d be so much prettier if I was a size zero. Zero isn’t a fucking size, not unless you’re a supermodel and play into that bullshit. Even newborns aren’t born a size zero! My NYC hair stylist disagrees with this, and once explained that my face shape (Which is oval.) is the perfect shape for a woman to have because it means every haircut will look good with her facial features. I don’t know that I agree with him, but he’s never tried to bullshit me. He’s also the only person I can trust to take me from my natural hair color to blonde in less than six hours.
However, my main point is that you aren’t going to physically be 13, 14, 15, or 16 years old for the rest of your life. Jeez, I thought I was “fat” then, and I wasn’t. At all. Our bodies change. Our hormones change. We all age differently. But I’m not okay with hideous negativity and societal pressures. And I’m REALLY not okay with “friends” who have, “first world problems”.
Your health is your wealth. Weight should NOT be what you’re focused on when you REALLY need the medication keeping you alive. It can be a goal when you’re feeling stable, not before.
I called my doctor late last month, wondering if he’d noticed that I’d cancelled on him. I legitimately do NOT cancel or miss appointments, even when I would much prefer to remove my eyeballs first. When he called me back, he said he trusts me to know when I need to come in and when I don’t. So, he clearly didn’t hear what I was saying, either. I won’t lie; I didn’t call him back because I was annoyed. I could easily slip back into not seeing someone for a year, or three. I told him that at my most recent appointment. Not only did he give me extra time, which he didn’t have to do, but he was in agreement with me about severing ties with a therapist who wasted a year of my life by being useless, and that’s me being civil. I’ve grown and I’ve changed, but she was not a part of any of that growth. I’m disgusted beyond words by her treatment of me.
I cancelled my final appointment with her because I knew I’d walk in, “hot”, and that means I knew my temper would flare into flames. I knew she could not accept the truth, so I decided that I don’t require closure in this particular matter. I decided that my sanity was more important than telling her what a useless sack of skin she is. I decided that insulting her and telling her how much her, “help” did NOT help, wasn’t worth me losing my temper. However, her one star rating on Healthgrades makes me feel better.
Will I go back to therapy? I don’t know. My doctor is going to do a deep search of all hospital employees and see who knows who. He knows if he screws up a third time, I’ll paint his office hot pink while he’s on vacation.
Have I reached out to anyone about what I’m going through? No. After recounting my father’s fifteen year battle with cancer to my best friend, who was unaware of all I’d gone through, I found myself in tears. I’m not generally an emotional person, meaning I don’t cry, unless it’s something serious, and even then, I might not. My reactions to things that bother and upset most people are not the reaction anyone is looking for, so I keep my mouth shut. And yet, I’ve written over three thousand words here, explaining myself when I don’t owe anyone an explanation.
Those of you who reach out with messages and comments, and thank me for writing things like this mean a LOT to me. If my words help you confront your pain, then that’s a positive takeaway.
Ultimately, mental health is a personal, painful journey. It’s a road often taken solo, for obvious reasons. Support may come easy for many of you, but for me? Well, I’m lucky to be a force to be reckoned with. It was my mother’s wish for me, and my strength is deeply engrained in who I am. Sometimes, I just need to remind myself who the fuck I am and where I come from. Hopefully, someone reading this will understand EVERY word.
Also, we don’t lose friends. We simply learn who our TRUE friends really are.
Copyright © 2019 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity, LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Written work by author may not be shared or posted anywhere without express written consent from the author. Excerpts and quotes from the material also require consent. This authors’ work and personal photos are protected under U.S. and International copyright laws. Further protection is under the Digital Millennium Copyright Act. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
National Sister Day
Today is also #NationalSisterDay. Thank you to my unbiological sister, Shani. She’s the diamond to my sapphire. We have different parents only because no one would have been able to handle us growing up. Especially since we turned out to be awesome, loyal, bad ass chicks with the world’s best sense of humor. I always feel immensely privileged to have you in my life. XOXO #BestFriends #Sisters #Sestras #Hermanas #Sorellas
Sharing Color
I’ve been having a terrible, rough time of late. I started writing about it, and was too sick to finish what I was writing, but I’ll get there.
As we head into this excruciatingly hot weekend (115 degrees with heat, heat index, and high humidity, as well as a few nights in the 90s), I thought I’d share a bit of brilliant, nature made color with you all. The lilies are unique and you won’t see them in anyone’s yard in random fashion. The purple one is called “Bela Lugosi”. I thought it was going to be more on the brown side, but as you can see, it isn’t. Most of these were just 4-6 flowers initially and now there are tons. The petals are thicker than you’d expect. I did my best to capture them the same day they bloomed.
Be well, everyone.
Hugs,
Musings Credited to Insomnia, Migraines, & Humidity
As I went over the feed for this month, I noticed the photo challenge is garnering a nice amount of attention. 😊 Possibly more than the inspirational things I normally share on a semi-regular basis. 🤔 I’ve also noticed that, each time I’m able to write, the statistics go up even further. Mind you, I’m doing all of this from my phone. Not too shabby. I am grateful to my readers and happy to report an increase in readership. All things taken into consideration, it’s pretty fantastic. 😘
I’m going to expand the photo challenge for another month, perhaps two. After going through my photo albums, I realized I have so many beautiful photos I’ve never shared. I didn’t think anyone would care, really. They’re absolutely stunning in color, but there’s something about black and white that allows you to see a different layer of beauty.
Editing them and then saving them into black and white is a little time consuming, but it’s worth it. Can you believe this started as a seven day challenge presented to me about two years ago? Expanding it, if one is able to do so, and has the photos, is far more interesting. Especially since part of the challenge is in not disclosing the locations, yet many are obvious, like Yankee Stadium or the Empire State Building. There are iconic locations in many of the photos, and in others, you’d be hard pressed to pinpoint exactly where the photo was taken. Part of me was tempted to post the black and white AND color versions, because there’s so much beauty to be seen in the differences, but I think I’ll keep things as they are, for now. I might eventually disclose the locations of each photo. I haven’t decided yet.
I’ve been having a difficult time sleeping. I have had a migraine for almost eleven days straight (after an extremely successful run of treatment, this feels like an enormous setback. Even better, the abortive I fought for isn’t helping. I am going to see if my doctor can get the brand approved since the generic is a little too different for me.), and it’s taking a toll on me. I’m researching a new medication (to me) and trying to decide if it’s an acceptable choice. I am hoping to enter the final phase of a clinical trial for PTSD medication, as well. I’ll know more at some point. I may or may not be permitted to mention the logistics if the drug isn’t already on the market. But hey, it’s worth a shot. I’m willing to try something if it can help me move forward, though I expect nothing.
My brother is scheduled for heart surgery next week. 😔 They claim he’ll go home the same day (Healthcare in America. 😒😠), but I have my concerns and suspicions. Obviously, I am praying for good results. 🙏 Otherwise, someone will be on the news next weekend. 😒 I’m probably voted “Most likely to kill a doctor” on a list somewhere. Most of them are smart enough to run in the opposite direction. 🤷
I am trying to wrap my head around everything that’s been going on in my life and things that have directly affected my loved ones. There’s been sudden loss of life, which left my best friend & I in tears, comforting each other from thousands of miles away. In constant truth, G-d Bless her. I don’t know what I’d do without her or her supportive words. When you have a friendship which started out so long ago, it occasionally feels like “just yesterday”. The shared memories and history, the laughter, the tears, and so much more, are a bond of truth. You can wave goodbye to the flakes and fakes of the world when you have solid relationships with others; the kind that always grow and age like the finest of wines. The kind you’re constantly grateful for, because 2-3 times a day, you thank G-d for blessing you with a handful of solid friends. G-d didn’t see fit to give me biological sisters, but he placed some extraordinary people in my life, and it bears repeating; I’m constantly grateful. Keep in mind, friendship is 50/50. Sometimes it’s 70/30 when one of you is going through a crisis, and that’s okay because your bond ensures that the center will hold.
Things are changing in positive ways. It helps distract one from the minor, negativity I’ve rid myself of. Eventually I WILL talk about it, but for now, I just want to focus on me. Not in a selfish or egotistical manner. Mostly in a head and heart kind of way, which I think is important.
And so, for the month of June, I’m done. I’m ready to move forward, keep growing, stay focused, and keep myself in a position to accept that I’m not a one trick pony. I do more than write; I create. I utilize that creativity and I’m SO glad I started filming and getting myself prepared for another phase. There’s a lot up the road. I am excited for it all.
Talk to you in July.
© 2019 by Lisa Marino and Blackbird Serenity, LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
Written by LISA MARINO-Molchanova 