Don’t Shake The Bottle

Miss Poison Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writing , , , , , , , , ,

I’ve been quiet. I am still recovering from the virus which refuses to leave, so I’ve spent the entire start of this year rescheduling my life. Ultimately, certain things happened to remind me I will forever be a work in progress. I thought I had worked through a very specific set of issues, but so much has come to the surface recently to let me know I’m not okay at all.

Our brains try to protect us through the deepest traumas, so we block out painful things, and/or extremely stressful shit. When it starts to surface out of nowhere, it’s ten times more painful. Your brain didn’t protect you at all; it made things worse by allowing horrors to surface at the absolute worst time in your life. It’s difficult to reconcile those things with your memories. A good example was when I returned to my childhood home. I didn’t think it was the worst childhood anyone on the planet could have had (I have heard stories which make my childhood seem pretty darn shiny and happy. It was not.), but I had completely blocked out living there. For some reason, there was zero familiarity to the space at all. In fact, I didn’t want to be there. I wanted to get in and out as quickly as humanly possible. I tried to avoid dealing with it, because yes, it was bad and I didn’t deserve it.

For the past few months, I was unaware there was extensive rage bubbling underneath the surface. For starters, I am not the most patient person on the planet. I warn people about this. I probably spend a bit more time than I care to by prefacing things ahead of anyone having to deal with me directly. In reality, I can stop doing this because it doesn’t matter anymore. Ultimately, no one gives a shit. The majority of people are so wrapped up in themselves, they won’t notice your behavior if it’s a little off. They aren’t paying attention to it the way I probably do.

As you try not to lose your rage at any given moment, sometimes it comes out unexpectedly. It’s not dissimilar to improperly opening a bottle of champagne. I am equally shocked by half of what comes out of my mouth these days as anyone else might be. I am learning to be okay with that, because it might be raw, but it’s also real. Real is good. It might not always feel good, but it’s better than false perfection.

My main goal this year is to do my best. Having to admit that I cannot post every single day this year was incredibly hard for me. I felt angry and torn by this, because yes, I pay to keep my site up and running. It’s my job to produce content. However, when you are suffering from extreme burn out, it is okay to admit that 365 days a year is maybe a lofty aspiration, especially this many years in.

I feel good that I am back on my manuscript. I wish I had more time for it, but I am doing my best, and closing in on 110,000 words is no small feat. Much of the career stuff I have on my plate involves change, big moves, and gaining funding for an idea I feel passionate about. I am a writer, and this is never going to change, but I need more than one thing to be completely passionate about. I will soon have another website for what I will be doing, and will be the Social Media Director for this passion-project, along with many other hats I will have to wear initially. Not only am I cool with that, but the very thought makes me deliriously happy. I hope you will follow the journey, but if not, I will still be here. I will still do my best.

copyright © 1995-2023 by Lisa Marino-Molchanova & Poison In Lethal Doses, LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Poison In Lethal Doses®™ is a registered trademark.

Wondering When It Gets Better

Miss Poison Writing , , , , , , ,

It’s hard to believe tomorrow is February, but it’s harder still to believe how sick I am. This virus is no joke. A few days and I’ll feel better? Not so much. Third bottle of cough medicine. Insomnia and parasomnia. The overall feeling this will not go away because it was a misdiagnosis on top of multiple misdiagnoses. I hardly know what day it is, and sometimes, I don’t know who I am. Quite frankly, none of this gives me “virus” vibes. Yes, I may need to see another doctor. What kind of doctor? Therein lies the ultimate question. <Sigh>

Last week, things got really scary when, within a few hours of feeling like I was freezing to death, my temperature had spiked to over 102 degrees. I had checked three times, and each time my fever increased, but I was way too sick to rationalize with myself. Moving was difficult. I was really weak. I couldn’t keep down water. I was sick in all caps, and my throat was raw. In total, it took about six hours for me to be able to swallow four Tylenol. I was deathly ill and so slow; and I have repeatedly tested negative for Covid, so I was pretty sure this was more of the same (With a follow-up negative for Covid.). I rescheduled an important appointment that morning because keeping my head up was too painful, and quite frankly, too much work. I then proceeded to sleep for almost seventeen hours straight. That is definitely not normal for me.

One benefit of being sick is having Cat and Kitten be sweet, little caretakers. Kitten only leaves my side for meals and short breaks. I go to sleep and she’s by my side. I wake up, and she’s watching me. I go back to sleep, and she’s snuggled up close. Occasionally, Cat is also with me. Either by herself, or within 1-2 feet of Kitten. Even though the new vet stupidly referred to them as “old lady cats” (I suggested they bite her.), it is more appropriate to say they are adult cats. Cat turned nine this past Fall, and Kitten turned eight. Collectively, they still have far more energy than I do. There’s something so pure and genuine about the affection when I reach over and pet Cat’s bunny soft fur. She almost doesn’t feel real, but she is, and the second I do anything she doesn’t like, she will run off. I require written permission for affection, which means, no touching. Kitten wants all the affection, all the head scratches, all the chin scratches, everything. She doesn’t hold grudges or take anything personally for too long. They truly have very unique, individual personalities.

If only this virus would move along as quickly as Cat when I so much as move a muscle. Being sick has zero perks. In a full months I have gone to Urgent Care, the pharmacy, grabbed groceries and some cat supplies. I got sicker after the grocery run, and that was with two masks on! My life has legitimately been sleep, sleep, and more sleep. It’s important to listen to my body. None of this rest has seemed to help, and neither have all the vitamins and healthy choices I’ve made, either.

Yesterday was my first step back into “real life”, and I ended up in bed before six o’clock, exhausted beyond words. I felt overwhelmingly ill. I still don’t feel great. Never a worse time for Amazon to lose not one, but TWO tissue deliveries when I need them so badly. UGH! “We promise you’ll have these on Monday.” That was on Friday, so I thought, “Okay.” No delivery. We promise you’ll have them by February 1st. HOW THE HELL ARE YOU LOSING 18 BOXES OF TISSUES?! How does it leave a facility and disappear? Why can’t you lose the orders I try to cancel?! Yeah, I have questions. Who wouldn’t?!

Despite the fact that Covid restrictions are going to be lifted this Spring, I still don’t feel well enough for certain things. February is a short month and I am concerned about how to navigate it in a healthful way. The same is true for March and April. It seems far away, but one look at my phone calendar says otherwise.

Ultimately, I had to make the decision that 2023 would not be the year where I would be able to post daily. This hasn’t been true in the past, even at my worst, but it must be true this year. I have to heal, focus, and work on projects I am passionate about. I will share things as they come up, but I’m going to do what I feel is right. I hope you’ll hang in for the ride.

I’ll be back with an update when I am feeling better. Wishing you all the best. Also, Happy Lunar New Year!

copyright © 2023 by Lisa Marino-Molchanova & Poison In Lethal Doses, LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Poison In Lethal Doses®™ is a registered trademark.