Last month, a client booked me for the first two weeks of September. Upon receiving her manuscript two and a half weeks early (She genuinely seemed to think that was okay.), I put my foot down and said I would not start until September 5th since she had not booked an earlier spot. She, surprisingly, agreed. I’m not being paid enough to do all that she’s demanding, and I mean it when I say the list keeps growing, but I made a commitment and I’ll honor it. Pray for my eyeballs and back, please. You know where I’ll be for the next two weeks. 😦
Normally I don’t mind proofreading and providing notes for someone, but this time I realize it’s the money that’s insulting me. It’s not befitting of my experience and what I bring to the table. The client hired nine other people, along with me. In my opinion I find it more cohesive to work with one proofreader. Conflicting thoughts and opinions is best left for your beta readers, not a proofreader. Demanding pages upon pages of notes when you’re not even paying my hourly rate for the entire job is enough to enrage me. However, it’s 100% my fault. I agreed to do it, knowing in advance that the money might cover 26 cans of cat food or a tiny amount of food for a human. Oh, how the mighty have fallen. 😦
If you’re an inexperienced high school or college student, this would be a little play money or Ramen noodle money for you. For an experienced adult, it is insulting, but again, 100% my fault. I have no room to complain or bitch, despite doing so, because I agreed to do it knowing what was involved, partially. Please, someone schedule me for a brain MRI, stat. I want to make sure it’s still in there.
I am in the midst of a week-long flare-up, after spending less than a week walking over fifteen miles. That’s nothing for most people; fifteen miles. They don’t even know they walk approximately ten miles a day (this is considered the national average of walking a person does daily, but a lot of my friends have told me they do the bare minimum, which means I actually move more than they do!), but for a Fibromyalgia patient, walking fifteen miles over the course of five days is the equivalent of running a marathon or winning Olympic Gold. It’s impossibly painful at this advanced stage, and yet I somehow managed it. I have yet to claim my reward. 😉
Between migraines and the pain in my back; I’ve found it immensely difficult to sleep. I’m struggling with my allergies as well, so all of these things keep me awake when I want to be asleep and make me sleepy when I want to be awake. Melatonin and/or my allergy meds have provided up to 12 straight hours of sleep some days. My body always goes through this before the Fall Equinox, but a lot of this began in August, so anyone who thinks Global Warming is a joke is wrong.
And so, I sit here on Labor Day, isolated from the world. I’ve felt alone most of my life, truly alone, but this year it’s worse. There’s no one to watch baseball with. There’s no one to ask if I am making hot dogs or hamburgers, if I’m making fries, or inquire as to whether or not I got pie. Being intentionally isolated by family and friends is incredibly hurtful, but feeling like I have to withdraw even harder to keep myself in tact is worse.
I have spoken to one friend via Facebook messenger, another via e-mail, and received a few text messages inquiring about my health. The only genuine concern I’ve received today, the only genuine love, has been from Cat and Kitten. Of course, Kittens’s love is a continuous thing, growing each day. She chooses to spend time with me when she could be off doing silly cat things or sleeping. Cat, not so much. She has been better these past few days; bringing me toys and giving affection. She is being sweet, which is her general disposition. Perhaps she has felt much as I’ve felt these many months; unhappy. The only difference is, she is given love and care every single day. I’ve never abandoned her. I’m allowed to feel less than human, and what’s worse, I’ve been told I am less than human. It’s a wonder I haven’t killed anyone yet.
Ultimately, there are worse things in life than someone trying to be cruel and failing. There are people who have lost their homes and everything they own due to floods and fires, there are people who are homeless through no fault of their own, people who have died or been injured in earthquakes, and there are people who are sick and dying because no one gives a damn. “Band-Aids don’t fix bullet holes.”; this is one of the most honest phrases ever written and yet, I have continually found it to be true. Far too many people think a politely worded lie will mend the damage done. I’m certain I live in a world where things get more bizarre by the day.
If you are in the States, I wish you a happy unofficial end to the summer. If you’re not here, be glad, for we’ve got a maniac running for President and crazy shit happening on the daily. Nothing is as simple as it seems. Nothing is ever so cut and dried.
I, for one, will be glad to see this day end, and hopefully everyone dealing with the remnants of the tropical storm is safe and sound.
If you’ve never had a loved one go missing; you’re damn lucky. If you’ve never lost anyone close to you, especially a family member, you are luckier still.
I have spent most of my life watching family members leave this plane of existence for another. I’ve written too many eulogies and speeches not to feel the heavy emotion of deep loss. However, my brother’s mysterious, sudden disappearance is scarier than all of those losses combined. Mostly because, no one seems to have any answers, and the ones they do have are either asinine or terrifying.
People do not just disappear into thin air. Especially not people who are roughly six feet tall and armed. My brother has had to defend his life once before; and he sent the other person to the hospital after warning them NOT to come closer. If you’ve warned a person multiple times that you’re armed and they expect you to just stay put and take a beating, then they simply do not know that my brother & I weren’t raised to behave that way (No, he did NOT shoot anyone. I only wish he had.). If you come at me, I’ll come back harder. My brother is a gentle soul, but if you push him, you will likely get a beating. I keep telling him he’s too Zen for me, that I like my anger, and he keeps telling me to forgive people and pray for them. See what I mean?
It has been over a week of me not knowing where my brother is. The police in Pennsylvania threatened me with imprisonment and a fine if I am “filing a false missing persons report”. For one, I’d never do something like that and two, I expect to be taken seriously by anyone wearing a fucking badge when I call them with a legitimate issue. You can’t keep telling me “We don’t know your brother.”, because that’s got nothing to do with this particular situation. There’s a reason you don’t “know him”; he’s a good kid. He’s not out robbing banks and knocking over liquor stores. He’s only a pain in the ass if you’re his sister. He keeps to himself, minds his own business, but is cautious and aware of things most people are not.
My brother is smart, and by smart I mean MIT/Harvard kind of smart. His intelligence is mind-blowing to people because they’re expecting him to be silent muscle, or they’re simply not expecting his level of intelligence to go beyond one realm. He’s always been this knowledgeable little sponge. Sometimes I’m blown away by his ability to take things apart, put them back together (“No, I’ve never done this before.”), or explain something with such precision that it makes my head hurt. He is the exact opposite of me in that he is extremely likable. I have never heard anyone say they didn’t like him.
My brother & I are very close. We’ve had to be, because at the end of each day, all we have is each other. I know he has my back and he knows I have his. Ultimately, he is one of the only people I would willingly take a bullet for. Other people have, sadly, shown me their true colors as I deal with horrible situation.
For starters, I do NOT need to be lectured on what to do or how to do something. I’m a capable human-being. When I have to block a family member from contacting me because she sticks the knife in my back and keeps on twisting; under the guise of “caring” and “providing helpful information” (The fact that I didn’t say “FUCK YOU!” or “BITE ME!” is a testament to my reining my temper in at the last second.), that tells you a lot about who I deal with on a regular basis. A normal person wouldn’t say “Sorry to hear, sweetie.” I’m not sorry to say that if you say that to me, it makes me want to punch you in the face. I didn’t just break up with a boyfriend, you dumb cow. My brother is MISSING, it’s not something trivial! This person doesn’t even know my brother to say the things they did, but wouldn’t shut the fuck up. I finally had to say “All I really need right now is support. All you have managed to do is anger and enrage me, so I am stepping back until I can be a decent human-being.” I said that because the questions wouldn’t stop, and I let them know that enough is enough. This person was pushing the last of my buttons (How many times do you have to reiterate that you’re not okay?!), and doesn’t know when to stop in general. If you push me and you don’t stop, I will absolutely lose it on you. I didn’t do that. I respectfully backed out the best way I knew how, but this person made it all about them. When it’s one of your siblings, then we can discuss your hurt feelings, but until then, NO, the world does not revolve around you. It’s not about you, this isn’t even about me, but if you want to be supportive, don’t throw it back in someone’s face and say you’re sorry you bothered to inquire. My personal life is not a fucking newspaper.
If you don’t know my brother’s middle name, date of birth, place of birth, who is Godparents are, or anything unique about him, then you don’t get to ask me stupid fucking questions. And there is always a difference between someone who genuinely cares and someone who wants to gossip, just as there is a difference between people who pretend to care, but sleep just fine each night while you cry hysterically from worry. I know the difference based on how others behave. Pushing someone who is already hanging by a very fine thread is dangerous. But this person couldn’t respect me enough to back the fuck off. I’ve gone months without speaking to them before and I can go a year this time without batting an eyelash. I don’t need this kind of drama in my life when I’m dealing with a serious situation. Moreover, don’t Facebook message me or text me for “updates” unless you live in another country. Those are the only people who get a pass. Everyone else is fully capable of picking up a phone and saying what they need to say, without being passive-aggressive, or aggressive. It’s called compassion. Don’t claim to possess it if you do not actually utilize it.
I’m an extremely private person and I am waiting for more information before I do anything that I feel is invasive to my privacy, or my brother’s. There is always a proper and improper way to handle a situation. I’m handling things in a manner in which I feel is correct.
You can support me, say a prayer or a kind word, or get out of my way because at this moment, I am a ticking time bomb. My brother is OFF LIMITS. I don’t appreciate anyone making up conversations I never had with them. Focus on your own family problems, don’t stick your nose into mine.
My best friends both said “What do you need? I’ll do whatever it is you need to help.” and they live an ocean away. My “relatives” did not say that. Hell, most of my “friends” didn’t say that, either, but I don’t fault them. I fault the person who messaged me last night and came at me when I am already raw with emotion. She always accuses others of attacking her, but the fact of the matter is; she likes playing the role of victim. She doesn’t know any other role but the role of victim. In every situation, it somehow becomes all about her and her role as the victim once she’s pushed you to the point where you have to tell her to back off. I don’t have respect for that. Many of us carry childhood issues with us, but when you’re pushing 40, you need to work your therapy and stop playing the victim card with everyone. It’s the reason people don’t respond well to you and it’s the reason people don’t like you. It took me a few years to see the pattern, but now that I do, I’ve stopped allowing myself to be turned into the “great evil” for speaking the truth.
When someone is bleeding from head to toe, do you throw them into the Dead Sea? No, you don’t. Therein lies the problem here.
I can let some things go, I can forgive certain things and I can forget others, but when you constantly play the victim card with me, I question how valuable the relationship is. I also realize that some people self-sabotage to the point where they have no friends or loved ones to turn to. But there comes a time when you can no longer make excuses for them.
I’m just trying to get through this dark cloud hanging over me where my brother is concerned. I know full well that I am not some “great evil” for saying I am stepping away. If I’ve said nothing and every other thing you say is an attack (“Sweetie” does not soften a damn fucking thing. I’m not five.), then it is up to that person to know when to back off. If you always have to say something to back them off, that’s unhealthy. Being told I’M the unhealthy party is utterly laughable.
Sometimes, people forget who they’re talking to. They get too damn comfortable. They start thinking you’re exactly like them. They don’t realize that the silence from one day too many has hit you hard, and that saying nothing is better than talking shit.
It’s a damn good thing she wasn’t standing in front of me.
Information fell into my hands over the past few weeks that has shown me things that were immensely hurtful. It showed me the truth behind the falseness. My response to it is going to be mind-blowing. I hope people are prepared to deal with true wrath. Never say things in print that you cannot take back and never say them to someone who will repeat it to me, or record it in some way.
A year ago, I probably would not have believed that my life would be what it is in this moment. It was unfathomable, and it is incredibly difficult for me transitioning into this “new life”.
Recently someone made the grave mistake of telling me that I “choose not to be happy”. Forgive me, but that’s not only rude, it’s insulting.
I find happiness itself difficult. I’ve struggled with the definition since I was about six. After all, what is happiness without your loved ones close by? I am not the “gone and forgotten” type of person that people might wish I was, and I am grateful that my memory allows me to have significant substance as a human-being, as opposed to being careless, thoughtless, rude, forgetful, selfish, and hurtful to others. I am the person that will always apologize if she’s over-stepped her boundaries or gone too far. I like that about myself. I see it as a great strength, not as a weakness.
Like many other people in this world, I was raised to trust my family & friends. I was raised that “family comes first”. My Grandmother instilled a “Family First” mentality into us, but I decided to redefine her terms, unbeknownst to her.
At around age 13, when I lost my ability to be nice as well as the ability to care what people thought of me, and learned precisely how evil and duplicitous other people are, I started taking a closer look at those around me. For a time, I had something other people wanted and that resulted in the end of many friendships as the years would come and go. Quite sadly, what those other people coveted wasn’t worth a damn thing. It was as fair-weather as they were; but no one should have to learn that their friendships are false and that their family is equally as bad.
Growing up in an abusive, nuclear family; I am completely intolerant of abuse in my life now. While I hate using the OCD comparison, because some people suffer greatly with it, other people use it as a means of control because they feel something in their life is out of control, or perhaps many things. In turn, the person displaying these OCD traits becomes abusive and accusatory. The truly attentive person notices everything from day one. The OCD abuser notices it seemingly out of the blue, and they use it to blame you for things you don’t think, leave alone do. It builds and builds until you reach your boiling point. I reached mine a long time ago, but I was lulled into a false sense of security that this person was, somehow, stable and getting their shit together. They haven’t, and eventually they’re going to realize my escape plan is a drastic one.
I’ve never not discussed the abuse I’ve been through openly and honestly. I’m not ashamed of it. One- It was never my fault, and Two- I survived. Unfortunately what bothers me most about certain types of abuse is that is starts off subtly. It can actually look like love and concern, until it doesn’t. Please pay attention to the signs and know when to walk away. I don’t care who the person is or thinks they are, you are worth more than that. Far too many abusers disguise themselves as friends and family, which sometimes makes it hard to distinguish precisely what it is you’re experiencing. My feeling on that is “abuse is abuse”, and it’s unacceptable, regardless of the packaging it comes in.
My pretty little jungle friend, staking out prime real estate.
Some people astound me, in the open-mouthed, “Are you fucking kidding me?” kind of way.
I have “family” coming into town this weekend. I use the word so loosely they should be able to hang themselves with it. It wasn’t until Wednesday evening that I was informed that I was invited to this “family gathering”. For the record, I like 6-8 weeks notice on the arrival of family members I don’t care for and a week for those I give a damn about, which is an increasingly small list.
I find it interesting that I was “invited” to this gathering, seeing as how their children, my younger cousins, both got married, one of whom had a baby less than a year ago, but I somehow wasn’t good enough to be invited to either wedding (Those are family events, last time I checked.), yet my presence gets a half-assed “Do you think she’d like to join us?” at the last minute?! That blows my mind. No, I wouldn’t like to join you. I find you both repugnant, and that’s putting it mildly.
I have not seen these two “family members” since my mother’s funeral. Not only have they treated me horribly and disrespectfully for the majority of my life, but a year after the funeral, in which they blatantly disrespected both my brother & I to our faces, when I notified family & friends about my parents’ unveiling (The Jewish tradition of unveiling the headstone.), none of them showed up. Not an e-mail, a phone call, or a fucking smoke signal. Only one had a solid excuse; her daughter was graduating college here in Boston. I sent her a note at the time letting her know that I knew she wouldn’t be able to make it, but that I wanted her to have my updated address and phone number and if she needed anything, I would be there for her. I congratulated her on my cousin’s graduation. No response. That was IT for me, especially after they lost their parents and I received third-party e-mails to inform me about funerals I could not attend at the last minute seeing as how I had a huge trip to make and was unable to drop everything. They all live close to where my parents funerals were held, so there was no excuse in terms of travel or anything like that for them. I intentionally gave everyone travel time instead of burying my parents within 24 hours, which is our tradition. Everyone had advance notice, so none of them had an excuse not to show up at my father’s funeral or my mother’s.
“I’d love to hear more about this, but I’m on my way to Spin Class.”, said the second cousin to a relative who was relaying the message because I had my own phone calls to make. Does that sound like genuine concern over a relative passing away? Not a single one showed even the slightest amount of class by picking up a phone, or bothering to send my grieving mother, brother, and I so much as a card. When you’re a narcissist and come to me eight years later (indirectly, mind you) with false claims as to how I treated you at my own mother’s funeral, asking to be in my presence after all this time; you’re either on some incredibly powerful drug, or you’re an asshole. I’ve chosen to go with both.
They have issues with how I treated them at the funeral. It is the most laughable accusation I have EVERheard in my family dynamic. I didn’t know whether to howl with laughter or cry at the stupidity of how self-involved they are. And I am perfectly willing to discuss it with them, via phone or e-mail. Hell, they can be my new “Facebook friends”. But being in my direct presence is a privilege and an honor, and neither of them make the cut.
What I was not aware of in this scenario is that they’ve had a middleman all these years, someone who has listened to their false claims of phone calls and showing love and care to my mother for many years. It happened ONCE, and ONLY ONCE, let’s not exaggerate it into the greatest relationship to ever live. I have repeatedly asked this person NOT to discuss me with them in any capacity. Said person agreed. I don’t know why that has somehow changed and yeah, it pisses me off. It’s breach of promise. It’s such a simple thing “Please don’t discuss me with these people, they are not my family.” It’s direct, to the point, and is precisely what I want. Not to be discussed. I don’t need their negativity directed at me.
Here’s one of my main rules in life: If you cannot be my family every single day, then you don’t get to choose to be family when it suits you, as in, whenever you happen to pop into town. Again, I am happy to discuss their issues, via phone or e-mail, and that is pure kindness on my part, a kindness I don’t feel they genuinely deserve.
They are cowards to talk about me behind my back, as opposed to coming directly to me, so I have two words for them and since I lack the ability to be “fake polite”, I definitely cannot play the game of falsity by spending an entire day with them, or even thirty seconds.
I legitimately have nothing to say to these people. I don’t think about them and I don’t talk about them. I even went over the conversation with my brother to verify everything and he agreed that their behavior at the funeral was appalling (They wouldn’t even stand near us, and not a single one of them said “I am sorry for your loss.”), but that mine was not; I was in mourning and about as polite as I could be after having lost both of my parents and giving the eulogy. He said “We never talk about these people and we don’t think about them; they’re not a part of our lives. We could be dead, they wouldn’t care, leave alone notice.” THANK YOU! That’s first-person validation, not that I needed it, I just wanted to clarify the events because I know how I behaved and I occasionally like to hear his perspective on things we’ve been through together. He’s 100% right. I don’t owe them anything.
I would rather read a good book, see a movie, take a walk, willingly walk someone’s dog, etc., than be forced to spend a moment in their presence. That would be smothering everything I stand for, and I’d be sullying the memory of my mother by allowing them to creep into my life in any fashion. I’d have to run to Salem and get every practicing witch I could find to smudge me with sage. I’m not exaggerating. Their negativity is sickening. The narcissism alone kills me. They think they’re perfect and cannot fathom all the superiority they’ve pulled on my family my entire life, because they can’t see past the end of their own noses. When people behave in such a manner, there’s really no talking to them. They desperately want to be right and they believe they are right, so I’m not going to waste the oxygen. I’m too good a person, too smart, and far too sharp to be lured into such nonsense. If it had gone unmentioned to me, I certainly wouldn’t be writing about it so honestly or passionately, but since it became an issue via negative words said to and about me, the truth is, I’ve never liked these people. Just because we’re related does not mean we have to have a relationship. They’ve had their opportunities and you only get so many chances with me. When I’m done, I’m truly done. I don’t wish any ill on them, I just want to live my life without them discussing me behind my back. Is that unfair? Honestly, I don’t care if it is.
At the beginning and end of each day, I would prefer to be known as my Grandparent’s ONLY Granddaughter, my parents’ ONLY daughter, my brother’s ONLY sister, and my Aunt’s ONLY niece. I am many things, but my Grandparents and parents live deeply within me and I try to honor them by being the person I was raised to be. None of them were perfect, but they taught me things that are immensely valuable. Manners, decency, common sense, and never being afraid to use my voice, for it is a deadly, powerful instrument.
Every time I am stressed or working too hard, I hear my Grandmother say “Sit up straight. Posture is everything.” I have perfect posture because she never allowed me to slouch. When I look in the mirror at my back, I think of her as the backbone of the family, because even though she was passive and kind, she helped raise me and deserves that acknowledgment. I was my Grandfather’s everything. Losing him shaped a lot of my world, but I will never forget a moment we spent together or the things he taught me. He lived each day to the fullest. I wish I had the ability to do the same, but maybe having Fibromyalgia is a mixed blessing in disguise. My parents were polar opposites who would have been better off as friends, but I am their daughter and I will not allow them to be disrespected in death as they were in life. If you disrespect them and you also disrespect me, you can basically kiss your ass goodbye. I don’t have the time, patience, or inclination to hold a grudge, but once I’ve made a decision, that’s it. Forgiveness isn’t always an option.
I often think my family dynamic is outrageously offensive, and then I hear other people’s stories and I find out how tame mine is in comparison, which is actually a scary thought.
Here’s hoping none of you ever have to deal with narcissistic family members who think YOU’REsome kind of she-devil because you lack the ability to be fake. No one needs that kind of drama!
This week I learned that people don’t have the same capacity for love that I do. I will never expect anyone to be as genuine as I am ever again. When people say they’ll always be there for you, but they avoid you like the plague when you need them the most, that’s not okay. Or when they turn on you like a rabid dog because you’ve crossed some unknown boundary you did not know existed. If you’re a real friend, don’t say you love me unless you truly know what the word means. If you’re a family member and you say it, please know that from now on, I’m not going to believe you unless I see it for myself via genuine actions. When words feel empty & hollow, it’s probably because they are. I’m not demonizing anyone, but I’m also not going to be anyone’s emotional punching bag. I may not be perfect, but I’m also not some evil, calculating bitch either.
Hello everyone. 😀 I’d like to welcome all the new readers. For those who have been on this journey with me from day one; thank you for sticking with me.
This has been an incredibly stressful month for me. A friend of 20 years passed away this week, which saddens me because she was such a special person. My migraines and Fibro flares have been completely out of control, which is why I haven’t written much of anything. To add insult to injury, I got hit in the mouth with the pet gate this week (Bottom teeth, right in the front.). I don’t have any bruising, but MAN, it fucking HURTS. I can handle a lot of pain, but my hands, mouth, and feet are three of my “NO” spots for anything lasting more than ten minutes. Here’s hoping it passes soon.
I hadn’t realized it had been so long since I’d written a real post. I cannot convey how nice it is to check in and see messages from some of you simply inquiring as to how I am doing, as a person. Very few people treat me like a real person, so for those of you that have and do, I cannot begin to convey how much that means to me.
Happy Full Moon to all my fellow Wiccans! )O(
Tonight is the first night of Passover (Yes, I’m Jewish AND Wiccan. I don’t hide that.). I got a surprising message last night from my cousin, who lives about 30 minutes away, asking if I’d like to join him and his wife for a Seder. He knew it was super-last minute and that I might already have plans, so he was apologizing while asking. I was SO unbelievably touched by the gesture, truly. It is legitimately one of the nicest things an extended family member has done for me in more years than I care to count.
I make no bones about how I feel about the family dynamics in my life. Please do not misconstrue my honesty as being “bitter”. I’m not, but I am honest and sometimes that may seem harsh, but you don’t know these people. Roughly 85% of my biological and extended family members could be on fire in front of me in the next thirty seconds and I wouldn’t get them so much as a glass of water, but the other 15% I actually care about, like, and/or love quite fiercely. If a person isn’t related to me and I consider them family, that is the highest praise I can give you because to me, family SHOULD be everything and they SHOULD be prioritized over bullshit, but that’s me. Not everyone is living life with my ethos.
I am touched by the invite, but I did have to decline. I’ve had a migraine for two weeks, and the Fibro flares intermittently. The last thing I want to do is ruin a holiday for someone else. Some people enjoy Passover. I’m still scarred from the last Seder I had to sit through. It is probably my least favorite holiday, and while I respect the traditions and the meaning behind it all, I choose not to take part when I am sick and need to prioritize my health above all else.
I also have an invite to a feminist Seder Saturday night. I don’t know if I’m going or not just yet. I do worry about this migraine getting worse and being someplace I’ve never been before, especially as I sit here unable to sleep. As other migraineurs know, it is often better to be sick at home, even if you’re miserable about it, then to be sick somewhere else and not have everything you need within reach. Imagine showing up to a stranger’s house with ice packs, a heating pad, essential oils, pillows, medication, etc., demanding that they all be quiet because you have a migraine and cannot tolerate noise on a good day, leave alone during a full-blown migraine. I do NOT want to explain that to people I don’t know, and I really don’t care to explain it to people I do know, but lately I keep getting asked the same questions over and over. Ultimately I’m going to say this: I don’t ever use my migraines as an excuse NOT to do something if I am well enough to do it, so if anyone insinuates that, they deserve a good smack upside the head. I’ve never used Fibromyalgia as an excuse either. If I am too sick, I simply make that known. If a person cannot see how badly I am struggling and suffering each day, then I refuse to explain it as if they’re deaf, dumb, blind, and mute.
I openly admit I’m sick of spending my days with the cats. On top of being allergic (I’ve been allergic even to my own cats for probably ten years, if not longer), it makes me feel like I have no time for myself. Cat and Kitten are such Mama’s Girls. They are almost fully integrated into the house. This week has been one of great progress. Whenever I’ve been working, researching, reading, or resting, I will check on them and find one in the picture window baking in the sun, another might be hanging out with me or asleep in her own bed, and OGK is either sound asleep in his bed or sprawled on the living room rug, also baking in a sun beam. But as the day progresses and his blood sugar drops, he loses patience for them and will sometimes get a little nasty and/or aggressive. It’s only happened a few times this week, but his medication appears to be helping him and that’s a good sign. He’s gained some weight, he’s smacking me less, is being sweet at times, but he still insists on waking me nightly. He stands next to the bed and screeches as loudly as possible, and like an idiot, I get up and do whatever he wants, regardless of how much sleep I have or have not gotten.
I’m pre-programmed to respond to three things in the middle of the night: An intruder that needs to be taught a lesson, a baby crying, and a cat crying. Some cats mimic the cry of a baby and as a woman, I’m biologically programmed to respond to that. I’m the woman in pretty much any store (Walmart, Target, any mall I happen to be in…) shushing crying babies while their mothers ignore them and keep on shopping. It drives me insane and makes me want to call CPS on them. If your child is screaming, there’s a reason, so respond. <End of rant>
OGK is willing to auction me off to the highest bidder. His demands include two large ocean-caught salmon, filleted and deboned, and five cooked chicken breasts, cut into tiny pieces. I’m pretty sure there’s a sign on the front door for the cats of the neighborhood that says “Trained Human For Sale”. Every day he looks at me with these gorgeous green eyes (You will legitimately NEVER see green eyes like this on a human-being unless they’re colored contacts and even then, they’ll look fake.), huffs out a sigh, and thinks “Ugh, she’s STILL here. How do I get rid of her?” If there was a kitty Craigslist, which I highly believe would be called Morris’ List, I’d be sold to the highest bidder in a New York Minute. He’s sick of me, until he’s hungry or thirsty and then he can’t wait to find this wonderfully trained human who’s at his beck and call. That’s me: The Beck & Call Girl. Feel free to let people know that. LOL. (Sorry Mom, Dad, Grandma, and Grandpa, but it’s a rich line and I can’t afford not to use it.).
So my lovelies, this is me checking in with all of you. More to come soon. I hope you all have an amazing weekend.
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 TheWeek”.
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. NOTEVER. 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.
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.
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!
Yesterday morning my brother was admitted into the hospital with what is, as of now, a form of heart failure. The doctors are baffled; stating that they don’t know how this happened because he is far too young. Unfortunately, he is far from being out of the woods. He is scheduled for a serious procedure today, and I am sadly all too familiar with it.
My original post probably won’t go up today because I’m sitting here speechless, sick to my stomach. I have words, there are things I want to say, but I feel the need to keep it inside for now.
I don’t talk about my personal life an awful lot, and there’s a reason for that. Most of you that know me off of this page are my friends in everyday life. You have the ability to call me, e-mail me, text, or visit, etc. But for those that do not personally know me, my heart, or the deeper aspects of my life, I tend to keep those things to myself. There’s plenty of people telling their life stories on blogs, but this is not a blog for me; it is my platform as a writer. I am a writer, I have been for 28 years. I’m not a blogger, at least not here, but perhaps that is just semantics for some people. I, however, stand by those words.
This week, I worry (It’s a Jewish woman thing.). I will try to push past the pit of hell inside my stomach. I pray for healing, for modern medicine to do what it’s supposed to do. I pray that some dietary changes reverse this, as a doctor told him it could/would, with some serious effort on his part, but only if it’s a specific type of heart failure.
The words “Life Vest” were used. That kind of technology did not exist when a doctor wanted to crack open my mother’s chest ten years ago and attach a defibrillator to her heart. Her doctor was over 80 (I wanted to punch this man at least three times, but it would have been disrespectful. I told her if he’d been 60, I’d have knocked his teeth out.), did not care to explain the procedure in a gentle manner, and was so rude that he only managed to turn the issue into a “Hell no!”, as opposed to “Can we discuss this?” Everything is being thoroughly explained to my brother, and for that I am grateful. He’s also smart enough to ask questions that other people might not think of and then discuss his options with me, that way there’s a proactive person involved in his recovery.
I know that many of you will understand if I am silent for a while; that family comes first. Today, and maybe most days, I am my Grandmother’s granddaughter. I do put my family first, but I am not afraid to handle the tough stuff. That’s why during the worst times in my life, I handle what needs to be handled, even if I’m not happy about doing it. Even if it breaks me.
Lack of a family unit has really bothered me these last few years. As I sat here yesterday making calls, I realized that about a dozen people did not need to be called, because they don’t give a fuck on a good day, and I will not give them the satisfaction of lapping up misery. I appreciate the people who offered up prayers, but I very nearly told someone off who made an off-hand comment without knowing precisely what is wrong. I had to take a huge step back, realizing that I’m emotional and snapping when you’re upset is not conducive to quality communication with others.
It would be hard not to be upset, angry (because I have tried for YEARS to take every bad thing out of his hands when I knew it was being over-done.), frustrated, and scared. I wouldn’t be human if I felt nothing. But I do feel, and I pray that this procedure holds answers as to the how and why. I pray to all that is holy that this is merely a bump in the long road of life. I pray that my brother sees the error of his ways, realizes he is being given a second chance, and takes that opportunity instead of squandering his brilliant mind.
I thank the doctors and nurses caring for him and the four different people who stopped him from an attempt to sneak into the parking lot for a cigarette! I’m embarrassed he’d stoop so low. They all yelled at him (His words were “They bitched me out!” I said nothing, because I feel he deserved it.), and he was later given a patch, so I am praying this is the end to me saying “You need to quit smoking before it kills you.” My brother may not be receptive to my direct honesty, but he’s taking it from doctors and nurses and I think that in and of itself is a positive thing.
I hope I’ll be able to say something more definitive in the next few days. In the meantime, I’m packing and trying to do all that I can for my brother. Because no matter how big a pain in the ass he is, and my GOD, I swear I inherited a big baby, he’s still MY brother. No one else alive can say that, and I told him the same thing. “No one else alive can say that I am their sister, so stop acting like no one cares about you.” I yell because I care, so when I stop yelling, he’d better start worrying.
As of now, I do not know with any certainty whether his medical expenses will be completely covered. If they aren’t, I will be posting a link at a later date to a fundraiser where even the smallest donation will help, but I will only do so if there’s a huge issue.
Thank you for listening to my insanity this morning. Have a good Wednesday, everyone. 🙂
Written by LISA MARINO-Molchanova 