As A Direct Result

2015-06-132015-06-13 Miss Poison Being Sick, Chronic Pain, Clients, Editing, Exhaustion, Fibromyalgia, Honesty, Idiots, June, Life, Migraines, Musings, Pain, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Saturday, Self-Care, Shopping, Work, Writing Chronic Pain, Clients, Cooking, Editing, Fibro Flares, Fibromyalgia Pain, Getting Shit Done, Heat, Life, Migraines, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Saturdays, Shopping, Twitter, Work, Writerstream, Writing

251214_538562782827767_988245146_n — It’s also an evil life-destroyer.

I’ve decided that today is going to be a work-free day.

I went to bed this morning sick as a dog. I suspect my brief time out yesterday affected me more severely than it ought to. Within a few hours of coming home, I got my fourth migraine of the week. I took a brief nap and I wasn’t entirely okay afterward, but now? UGH!

Sadly, with migraines, you often question whether you did something wrong, ate the wrong thing, etc. All I did was go out in tremendous heat for an hour and a half and come home. It wasn’t a lot of physical exertion, but my body says otherwise. I had a mild headache upon returning, but it wasn’t until I actually felt pain in my head that I took something for it. By 7:30, as my neighbors attempted to power wash something right near my bedroom window, I contemplated outright murder. My ears simply cannot bear the noise, and what are they up to at this precise moment? Yard work. At 9:23 a.m. On a Saturday. When it’s already 85 degrees and a heat advisory has been issued for the entire area, AGAIN. Schools actually closed early yesterday, if they opened at all, because it was over 100 degrees with the humidity and people were experiencing breathing problems. But hey, dumb & dumbest need to make noise on a yard that requires no work at all this week. This is where I would like to point out that I refrained from putting #TheyNeedToBeShot. I’m not a violent person…just don’t make noise when I’m sick or on any day ending in a y.

As a direct result of this migraine/heat/stomach agony, I’m trying to decompress this morning. I’d rather be asleep, but I desperately need to hit the grocery store. Not a fun task, I do not look forward to this, but I am going to try going once it cools down. There’s no point in making myself any sicker by attempting to do it early on in the day. Everyone and their grandmother will be there to capitalize on the digital coupon extravaganza, which has already turned into an epic fail because 9/4’s of the coupons don’t come off at the end of each order, which means customer service is inundated with questions as to why they didn’t work and precisely “Where are my savings? Are you going to give me my money back?” Actually, the store is set up to make sure you actually loaded the coupons on to your savings card in the first place. If you didn’t use the physical coupons that were also provided for the week, chances are you didn’t get the savings on those four items. I clipped all of my mine last night and will print up a few others later on. I’ve saved nearly $1000 this year alone in coupons at one store. That is a small accomplishment, but it feels good every single time I look at my receipt.

I’ve completed all of my work this week (though I am seemingly still loosely on the consulting job), except for the manuscript, which I will devote more daily time to next week in my attempt to complete it. I’m not looking forward to that, I’m simply tired of seeing it and knowing that it’s not complete. I do NOT relish the line of questioning that will come with the delivery, but since I stated in the contract how much time I will spend on answering questions before charging again for my time, I hope that will make the client aware that I mean business. It’s in black and white, how hard is it to follow guidelines?

Before I forget, I want to thank Writerstream for featuring my work this week, and I’d also like to give a huge shout out to the dozen or so new Twitter followers in the last 12 hours alone. (Special thanks to Lillian for encouraging me to join Twitter. Hugs sweet pea!) I never knew I’d grow to love it so much. To the friend that reads my Tweets and isn’t afraid to joke with me and laugh, I appreciate it. (You know who you are, doll!)

If you need me, I’ll be here for the next few hours. Drinking coconut water. Praying that it helps. If it doesn’t, I’m seriously considering an ER visit because this level of pain is out of control.

Have a great weekend everyone! And please, stay out of the heat and wear sunscreen.

This Is How I Know It’s Wednesday

2015-06-10 Miss Poison Being Real, Life, Musings, Poison In Lethal Doses, Stress, Unhappiness, Writing Clients, Honesty, Life, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Stress, Unhappiness, Wednesdays, Work, Writing

Once the heat & humidity overpowers your thoughts, the days just blend, one into the other. After a while, you find yourself occasionally double-checking the date so that you don’t make an error on something that may or may not be all that important. When it doubt, check it out.

How do I know that it’s Wednesday? Because this morning, after waking up migraine-free (fingers and toes crossed), I couldn’t sleep and decided to check out my DVR queue. The first thing I pressed was PLAY for Pretty Little Liars. That means yesterday was Tuesday, because I was in bed at 7:30 PM praying to God to end my suffering. ABC Family hasn’t aired PLL in any other time slot, so today is definitely Wednesday. I’ll be 50 when they finally let us know, without question, who ‘A’ REALLY is, and I’m oddly okay with that.

I am forcing myself to work on “the manuscript from hell”, which just keeps growing. I suspect it’s all the notes I’ve added to it. Every time I think I’m getting somewhere with it, I catch myself making faces at the screen and typing words I don’t think I’ve ever had to use to describe someone’s writing before. I’m not subtle, but I’m not paid for subtlety, nor am I paid to kiss someone’s ass. When something is good, I say so. When it’s not, I say so. It’s all in a day’s work.

Two previous clients have returned, asking for assistance with different, but short, jobs. I’m excited to work on both projects because not only are they fast, but they’re enjoyable. I love when clients return because it means that the work you’ve done for them is memorable, and it helps you expand your client base. When someone keeps coming back, is consistently pleased with your work, and pays you well, you don’t even have to think about taking those jobs, you jump on them like a panda with bamboo.

Alas, underneath the work stuff, I am filled with severe unhappiness that runs so deep, I can’t stand it. If I didn’t have to do specific things today, I’d be content to sit and read a book, or shut off every electronic device in the house and work through my shit. Unfortunately, I’m the only reliable person available, so I’m sitting here making a “to do” list for the day. Some of it I want to do, and the rest is just crap one has to do because little people rely on them. Those are the moments when I thank God I’m not a selfish, self-centered person who only thinks of herself. I can manage “me time” with “shit that’s got to get done” time and as long as I don’t think about it too much, I will be okay. One minute at a time, one step at a time.

Dosvedanya, until I write again. Be safe.

Weird Worthless Weekends Lost To Pain

2015-06-082015-06-08 Miss Poison Cats, Chronic Pain, Clients, Editing, Fibromyalgia, Kittens, Life, Musings, Pain, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Work, Writing Chronic Pain, Clients, Editing, Fibro Flares, Fibromyalgia Pain, Laundry, Life, Lost Weekends, Musings, Pain, Poison In Lethal Doses, Weekends, Work, Writing

Friday morning I stated that I’d rest this weekend and get things done inside my home, as much as humanly possible. I mentally calculated exactly how much laundry needed to be done, and then factored a few others things into the mix. What I did not factor in was a terrible Fibro flare and bouts of sleeplessness that drove me up a wall. Why couldn’t that have happened last week? Because I was working like a dog in between migraines and the day and a half I spent unable to move, so apparently my body waited and the second I had time to breathe, I got slammed. I’m livid that it is now Monday and that my “weekend” was so bizarre in it’s lack of time.

I know I am being unfair to myself. I’m not a machine and I do have to factor pain into my daily life. There was a lot I wanted to get done from Friday until now. As I angrily folded laundry a little while ago, the only load I did this weekend that isn’t even my stuff, I realized just what a wasted weekend this was.

Who’s looking forward to another hot, miserable work-filled week? Not I. Plus, I’ve got about four loads of laundry that need to get done. In all fairness, one could be up right now, but I will not move a happily sleeping kitten off of my bed in order to yank the linens so she can think it’s some kind of evil game and destroy another set of sheets. I cannot get a soul to hold her so I can trim her nails. Apparently everyone is afraid of the world’s sweetest, sassiest kitten. I don’t want to traumatize her by pinning her down with my body to get two nails, if I’m lucky, before she hisses, cries, or attempts to bite me. Believe me, I understand her frustration and I don’t take her reactions to heart, though the crying kills me. She’s not a mean biter and she’s not mean, period, she simply doesn’t understand why her nails need to be cut. As sweet and loving as she is, a lot of basic kindness is scary to her. I have to keep trying as patiently as I can so that she doesn’t have these fears later on in life. This is residual shelter trauma; it has nothing to do with her life with me. Knowing that, I can utilize far more patience than if it were a person. Animals and babies are one of my speeds. People need to handle their own shit.

I am looking forward to work this week in a “I really like this particular client” sort of way. I spent about an hour on the phone with a client one afternoon to be certain of what he needed from me. We had a lovely conversation and he was incredibly pleased with the work I turned in. During our conversation he said he wanted to keep my information close at hand in order to hire me again for other editing/writing jobs. That is the only time I will write for someone else, when they know what they want, but can’t quite put the words together cohesively. Most times, that’s less than 500 words and it takes no time at all, but some people cannot put their internalized thoughts onto paper, so an idea is scattered and hiring someone to polish the idea is a good way to find the right person for the job you’re looking to hire for. Hiring field specific people is a really great concept.

My point, however, is that he contacted me yesterday for another job. I wasn’t 1000% sure I’d hear from him again, but I’m glad that I did. It’s nice dealing with people who get it and have respect for your time, knowledge, and the work you do. Most people just made rude demands. I had someone point out a tiny error I made, which happens. I’m not perfect, it was late, and all she had to do was delete one word. I asked if she wanted me to redo the entire file, but instead she took up over an hour of my time asking me to proof the work that SHE had just re-edited. (Did your jaw just hit the floor? I was astounded by the stupidity because it resulted in a two hour phone conversation the following afternoon to make sure I’d get paid for the time.) Did I mention that this was a corporate job and her English is swimming somewhere between broken and non-existent? I suspect she was using Google translate because revising her thoughts was like playing with a puzzle, and the message “Is it done yet?” grated on my nerves because I informed her precisely how long it would take and that I’d get it back to her by late Thursday evening EDT. It is all too easy not to want to do specific jobs after a while based on the treatment of clients that do not understand that not everything can be done in 60 seconds. It’s incredibly unrealistic to expect that, but it is what it is and I have the right to pick and choose the jobs I take, for that reason alone. I am excited to see what this new opportunity brings. I wish every opportunity was a prosperous one. Alas, many are not, so I do my job and move on. That’s all I can do, my best.

And now, despite all this back pain, I am off to tackle at least two loads of laundry since kitten has moved along. I suspect she will be back soon to thoroughly inspect all the clean linens I’ve put down since stripping my bed and quickly dashing downstairs to the laundry room (Cat has already given me a mixture of approval, disdain, and attitude.). Now if I could just find the perfect pillow…

The truth is, the evil never truly rest. 😛

How To Be A Client An Editor Wants To Work With

2015-06-062015-06-06 Miss Poison Authors, Being Real, Clients, Editing, Editors, Grammar, Honesty, June, Knowledge, Life, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Reading, Stories, Stress, Things That Enrage Me, Work, Writers, Writing Editing, Editors, Honesty, Life, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Stress, Words, Writing

Author’s Note: These are all true experiences. I will never name names, but I’m not going to filter my honesty either. If something I say here offends you, then you probably don’t want to be a writer.

Not every client I work with is a breeze, but a small percentage are truly fabulous (One I had this week was wonderful.). There has been a tiny percentage over the last 20 years that have enraged me with their constant inquiries, rude comments, whining, tantrums, or those who simply do not understand the process.

It’s 2015, so I think it’s important for writers, especially new writers seeking publication by any means, to understand that editors are human beings. We have families, we have things that go wrong in our lives, and no matter how much we may love what we do, we’re just like everyone else. We have bills to pay, we have responsibilities, children to raise, meals to prepare, animals to care for, homes to clean, clothes that have to be washed, etc. Why would you treat your editor as a lower life form and expect them to respond well to you? I wouldn’t treat a stranger the way some people treat their editors, so here are a few things I feel are crucial information for you to have.

If you’re about to work with an editor or are currently in the process, even for the smallest project, here are some surefire ways to be a good client and not make said editor contemplate a move to a Brazilian rainforest (Another good goal is not to end up on a list of clients they’ll refuse to do business with in the future.)

#1- Don’t call or e-mail within 15 minutes of sending them your manuscript to ask if they’re finished. I JUST started. I’m on page three. Why are you asking if I’ve read the entire thing that you JUST sent to me? Precisely how does one get it into their head that a non-magical entity has just inhaled 100,000 words (or more) in 15 minutes?! It is annoying to the point of something more severe. Here, let me whip out my magic wand… Don’t do it, and if you’re thinking about doing it, lock your phone in a drawer and change all of your passwords to stifle yourself.

A good editor will update you during the process, there is no need to nag. You may find yourself so excited that you can’t help but constantly send your editor messages, but eventually, even the best editor is going to lose their patience with repetitive questions. The only time it’s acceptable to keep track of them is, if by some strike of lightning, you never hear from them again, which happens to people on occasion. However, a person that responds to you and keeps you updated is working, and you probably aren’t their only job, so be patient. Take this from a person who is being nagged every few days by a client. If strangling were legal…

#2- Don’t say rude, insensitive, inappropriate, idiotic shit. If an editor lets you know right away that they are dealing with any kind of emergency (We’re people, life/shit happens and it’s not always good.) decide whether or not you can hold out. If they are in the middle of the work, let them finish. Continuity is important. Hiring another editor to do what they’ve been working on is a headache because that person will only start from the beginning and make changes more suitable to their style, and that’s additional time, and money, being spent.

If they just started working and you’ve barely paid them, it’s okay to move on if need be, but don’t take hostility out on them or, if you agree that you can wait, don’t send them messages every few days, or weekly, to ask about the progress. Let them work. If I have to stop what I’m doing to answer your repetitive e-mails, I might not be pleasant, polite, or anywhere near the word “professional”. I might give you one word answers. If I respond three days later, that does not mean I was ignoring you. It means I was working. Don’t make assumptions.

#3- Realize that every freelance editor does not have a team behind them and/or a slew of assistants. I’m a one-woman show. There are days I knock out 25,000 words in the editing and/or proofreading process and there are days I am only able to get through a few pages. The dirtier the manuscript, the more face time it requires.

#4- Read your work in advance before you submit it. You might even want to read it twice. Use spell check. Hell, use a grammatical tool so I don’t stare at the page flabbergasted by your complete and utter lack of knowledge regarding the use of the English language. “Did she actually write “ancestory” instead of “ancestry”? I think I’m having a stroke. (This happened to me Thursday.) That is not a typo (look at where each letter is on your keyboard), it’s someone trying to sound out a word and failing, miserably.

#5- You may have a few self-published titles under your belt, but that doesn’t make you a writer. Yeah, I said it. Anyone can self-publish. If you don’t have an audience to sell to and a solid story, don’t make it out to be more than it is. There are some exceptions to this rule and they are people who have properly marketed themselves as a brand. I know a few of them and their decency measures up to the quality of their writing.

#6- You cannot self-promote anything that isn’t edited, clean, and ready to go. It’s childish and unprofessional, and it’s not going to work in your favor the second a prospective agent Googles you and finds your blatant self-promotion, for a book they may or may not want to buy, in places they probably don’t want to see it. They might like your chutzpah, because you will need those skills later on, but they’re not going to want unedited excerpts on every writing web-site from here to Calcutta. Know when to hold things close and even better, know when to keep your mouth shut. Unless something is a done deal contractually, zip it. Afterwards, I’d still refrain.

#7- Write what you know. If you’re choosing a place you have never been and will never visit, you’re not going to capture the essence of the most crucial things, and a local resident or someone who has been there is going to pick up on that immediately. There may be a lot of competition to write about things in major cities, but if you’ve actually made the statement that Johns Hopkins University and their respective Hospital are in New York City when it most certainly is not (Hello, have you ever heard of Baltimore, Maryland?! Unless I’ve had a recent lobotomy, they’re both still there.), I strongly recommend NOT making New York City your setting. (Yes, this happened. I had to walk away from the crazy because insistence does not make something truth.)

#8- Speak to me, on the phone & in e-mails, the same way you want to be spoken to. If you’re incessantly rude, eventually even the nicest person is going to snap. Ultimately, treat people the way you want to be treated, in all things.

#9- You may love your editor, but he/she is not your bestie. Unless we’re genuine friends outside of work, I cannot take time to counsel you on your marriage, friendships, parents, or children. Not when you constantly ask me “Is it done yet?” It’s NOT a piece of chicken.

#10- An editor who knows his or her shit is going to push you to be better. We are going to tell you to re-write, revise, and altogether tell a better story. It’s our job to dissect what you’ve written and help you make it into a cohesive, readable body of work. Telling you it’s the most fabulous thing I’ve ever read when it is not and kissing your ass for writing it “in three months” is NOT in my job description. I can tell when something took no time at all.

#11- There is a relatively long list of words I will cut out of a manuscript the second I see them in an overly repetitive fashion. “Very”, “Awesome”, “Seriously”, “Really” “Totally”, “Umm”, “Just” “Ya” as opposed to “Yeah”, are merely a few. The deal-breaker is “Alright”. I flip my lid every time I see it and you’re out there calling yourself a writer. Don’t insult me, I’ve been writing for 28 years and I’m almost positive I have always known that “all right” is two fucking words, not a creative amalgamation for the lazy. If ever I DID make errors like that, there was always someone present to correct me.

The occasional slip-up is not the end of the world, but if you regularly use the word “Y’all”, or any variation thereof, please exit stage door left so I don’t throw something. I realize it’s a part of some people’s daily vernacular, but if you’ve written it into a book that does not take place south of the Mason-Dixon line, I’m cutting it.

#12- If you want five hundred pages edited in 1-3 days, you’re either looking to hire a machine or highly intelligent zoo animals. Let me know how that works out for you. (This is a regular request. These are the same people who think this level of editing shouldn’t cost more than $30 U.S., not Canadian. I would rather starve for a week than do that much work for so little money. That’s not even my current hourly rate!)

The very best editor for you is someone you have fostered some sort of professional, communicative relationship with, maybe even someone you know who edits and who you have come to respect, but it’s not the person you picked out of a line-up as the cheapest person for the job. Unfortunately, sometimes you get what you pay for and other times you find someone amazing. It’s the luck of the draw.

At the end of the day, I do not have all the answers. I have 95% of them, but not all of them. 😉

Change Your Life Today…

Quote 2015-05-30 Miss Poison Life, Quotes Change, Future, Life, Quotes, Simone de Beauvoir

“Change your life today. Don’t gamble on the future, act now, without delay.” -Simone de Beauvoir

The Life Of…

Quote 2015-05-17 Miss Poison Life, Quotes Life, Living, Marcus Tullius Cicero, Memory, Quotes, The Dead

“The life of the dead is set in the memory of the living.” ―Marcus Tullius Cicero

It Doesn’t Get Easier

2015-05-052015-05-05 Miss Poison Cats, Children, Chronic Pain, Fibromyalgia, Honesty, Kittens, Life, Musings, Pain, Pets, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writing Chronic Pain, Fibromyalgia, Honesty, Life, Migraines, Musings, Pain, Poison In Lethal Doses, Suffering, Writing

Fibromyalgia Pain. Chronic Pain. Migraines. They are just a few of the evils that millions suffer from. Some suffer loudly, but many more suffer in dark rooms, alone, in silence. You’re screaming on the inside, but you don’t make a sound.

There is something about the temperature shifting drastically that changes my “Pain Game” to new levels of insanity. I’ve had a migraine on and off for three days, and after last week, I’d hoped it was just a passing tornado, so to speak. This morning I reached that “insane from pain” stage that is quite scary. You hear yourself saying crazy things, but you truly cannot stop your mouth from moving. You’ve been strong for too long and now you’re venting.

I’m usually up pretty early and by early, I mean still dark. Suffering from migraines last week into this week has meant that I’m finding justified reasons to A) Go back to sleep or B) Take naps. This morning I woke up at 7:24. I’d been up an hour before and truly saw no reason to make a bigger effort, so back to bed I went. Unfortunately, when you have animals and/or young children, you don’t get “the morning off”. I suspect if I bled out of my eyeballs, maybe. The girls were being particularly aggressive this morning, so I fed them at exactly 7:25 and then stomped back up the stairs like an insane person. Once they’re fed, they usually leave me alone. In true form, they had no interest in bothering me whatsoever once they’d been fed. But once I officially woke up, I had a little stalker doing all sorts of wrong to draw my attention. I’ve reached that pain point where saying “No.” or “Get down from there!” isn’t even worth it. If I spritz them with water, they stop doing it. However, they’re fearless and like to lick the water off right in front of me, as if to say “Really Mommy, that’s all you’ve got?” I’m not in the mood to be challenged by anything with four legs and fur, and I don’t negotiate with terrorists that look like children. 😛

Migraines that affect your neck, shoulder(s), face, and spine are fucking scary. There is always someone telling me a wild story about how “so and so had a migraine, and thus thought nothing of it, until they ended up in emergency surgery.” Yeah, that’s what I need to hear. That is totally going to make me feel better, thanks for sharing! I have no idea why so many people use the “this one has it worse” crap on you, as if that is somehow going to magically stop your suffering (and not just with a migraine, but with ALL things in life). FYI: It doesn’t curb your suffering at all, but it does piss you off, which isn’t good because that raises your blood pressure and damn near guarantees that this migraine isn’t going anywhere any time soon.

My biggest problem with this particular migraine is that I also hurt from my spine down to my calves. If it’s not severe pain, it’s a horrific ache or serious soreness. There is a 50% chance of rain and honestly, I’d like to see it rain a bit because that would explain the sudden increase in pain from my daily 8-9 to DEFCON 1. Historically we have never reached such a level of “readiness”, but I’m betting that a vast majority of pain patients HAVE reached that threshold. It is pain that is so bad, you’d rather feel ANYTHING ELSE but that pain. It applies to more than just the physical.

Doctors have often told me “It gets better as you get older.” That’s what they told my mother when I had horrible growing pains and constantly felt like my muscles and bones were going to pop off. Now, doctors ask whether or not you can remember if you had bad growing pains as a child, because that often signifies whether or not you might suffer from a form of chronic pain later on in life. They ask about your long-dead relatives medical histories, as if you know all about your “dead before I was born” Grandparents and Great-Grandparents. Unfortunately, I remember those growing pains the same way I will remember my current pain a month from now, with 100% muscle memory.

I fully intended to get some serious editing done today. I have a client crawling up my butt (I have more to say on this subject, but it’s unprofessional, so I’m going to shut my mouth) asking for a timeline for delivery. We’ve never discussed one before, but as I go through pages and pages of work that requires severe corrections with every sentence, I had to be honest (I chose professional honesty as opposed to niceness because I don’t have niceness in me at the moment.) and tell exactly her how much work is involved. The cleaner the manuscript, the less work there is for me, but as a developmental editor, I fact check and do way more than I’m being paid for, and yet from a writer’s perspective, I cannot tell if it’s just excitement at the prospect of having never been edited before, or anxiety that a professional is dissecting your work. I don’t know, I suspect it could be a lot of both, but I’m also in too much pain and under too much stress to sit and psycho-analyze it. I also hesitate to ask because I’m about .1 seconds from losing it on just about anyone. I’ve never failed a client before; it’ll get done, but work stops when I’m in agony and being nagged.

Right now, today is turning into another “Must Take Care Of Me” day. I truly don’t feel there are enough days like this because I often turn my attention to helping someone with a problem, or doing something else to shift my internal focus off the pain. Focusing solely on my own needs is slightly unnatural to me, but for now, it MUST be a priority.

Here’s hoping that none of my readers are hurting like this today. 😦 This is the kind of pain only Hitler deserves!

Mondays…The Bane Of My Existence

2015-05-042015-05-04 Miss Poison Being Sick, Fibromyalgia, Heat, Honesty, Life, Mondays, Pain, Pieces Of Me, Writing Fibromyalgia, Honesty, Life, Migraines, Mondays, Pain, Pieces Of Me, Writing

Maybe it is lack of quality sleep or the fact that I woke up stressed, but this particular Monday is making me ill. The eerie quietness was giving off a lovely early Sunday morning vibe, which was helping calm my nerves…until the mowing and trimming started, AGAIN. I’ve had a migraine since last night, so the sound is like a never-ending sickness within me. I didn’t realize it until just now, but the smell is also murdering my sinuses. Spring allergies on top of all this physical pain AND a migraine? It’s unbelievably cruel.

The migraine is never truly gone. It will lull me into a false sense of security and then come slamming back, making me feel like my brain is being rattled. Has anyone received successful Botox treatment for their migraines? If so, please share your experiences with me.

Originally, I had some semblance of a plan for today. I had ideas laid out for work and I will definitely begin the process of writing certain things, but I’m realizing right now that some serious self-care is also in order. Today is going to be one of the hottest days that I’ve seen in quite some time, topping out at either under 90 degrees or over, so I think my first order of business before it kicks into high gear is to start hydrating, and to refill the Brita pitcher as a precautionary measure. Heat and I don’t mix well. In my mind’s eyes, it’s a “Wicked Witch melting” moment.

Something about the heat always makes me sick. It affects my entire body (pain, stress, stomach issues) and it exhausts me to the point where I will close my eyes and wake up five hours later. Like many things, the heat does Fibromyalgia no favors. It irks me that a person can’t spend five minutes educating themselves about Fibromyalgia, or any chronic illness, but when you explain that you’re sick, their response is selfish and self-centered, with claims of also having it. And yet, when they describe the pain they experience, you know their journey has yet to even take place because, while it may have been diagnosed, it is the utmost of mild for them. They don’t have to spend a week in bed after two days of serious activity. The only thing they do experience is widespread pain, but it’s not constant. Well, unless you’re on a morphine drip, Fibro is a constant. There are over 100 symptoms and side effects, but if you’ve only got one or two of them, I have a hard time relating because I score over 85 on the list, and that’s extremely disturbing to me. This disease is robbing me of my youth and energy in ugly ways.

So, if I don’t do or say something today that you expected, please forgive me. I’m waging war, both physically and mentally. I don’t have time for frivolous nonsense.

Nothing In Life…

Quote 2015-05-04 Miss Poison Quotes Comprehension, Fear, Life, Marie Curie, Quotes, Understanding

“Nothing in life is to be feared, it is only to be understood. Now is the time to understand more, so that we may fear less.”
―Marie Curie

These Days

2015-05-022015-05-02 Miss Poison Chronic Pain, Fibromyalgia, Honesty, Musings, Pain, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Stress, Writing Chronic Pain, Fibromyalgia, Life, Musings, Pain, Poison In Lethal Doses, Stress, Survival, Writing

When you suffer from any form of chronic illness, and I can only speak from experience with Fibromyalgia/Chronic Pain, there are days when you cannot fathom getting out of bed, leave alone getting out of the house. The pain is just that great in its magnitude that functioning is taken out of the equation. You reach a point where you merely exist.

When I push myself, I make everything worse. It often takes me 5-6 hours just to get my mind right in order to get ready and leave. I have to factor in so many things in these decisions. My big motivator isn’t about myself though, it’s usually about making sure the girls have all that they need. If they don’t, I have no choice but to get shit done, even if it means not being able to walk at all for several days.

I woke up in a dark head space. Despite going to bed early last night, I accidentally left the air on instead of the heat. That’s how crazy the weather has been. By the time I reached the “everything hurts and I can’t move because everything is stiff” stage, it was 62 degrees inside. In this house, that’s like 45 degrees with a bitter wind chill. So, the heat went on and I went back to sleep for a few hours. When I officially woke up, it was “too hot” at 66 degrees, which just goes to show you that Fibro is no joke. There are days I am wrapped in a blanket when everyone else is in shorts and tank tops. There are also days when I’ve got two layers on and people are saying “You’re not hot?” When I’m really cold, I’m even wearing socks inside. I never know which way my internal temperature will slide or what the external will make me feel. There are days when 70 degrees makes me want to pass out and die, but if there’s a cooler breeze within the temperature, I’m okay. These days, even my hair hurts, and that’s never a good sign.

I am slowly pulling myself together today to hit two stores. If I don’t go, no one eats, including me. The last thing I want to do today is go anywhere, but for now, it’s just about calming the pain and stress levels down a few notches and hoping that a cool shower will wake me up enough later on so that I can run these two errands and come home.

I won’t lie: My first option was to have everything delivered or ready to pick up, thus minimizing my actual need to force myself out. Alas, two different stores were “out of stock”, so I have no choice but to go there myself and figure out what their deal is. Unless you’re having some kind of epic sale, there’s no way you’re completely “out of stock”, not unless you want to screw with me or there’s something wrong with your on-line system. It’s all very frustrating. It’s even more pathetic that I thought “Wow, that’ll be a breeze. I can just go in, pick up the order, and come straight home. I don’t even NEED to wear make-up!” Of course now, pride determines that I do not leave the house without looking like a human-being. Think Corpse Bride, with a lot of curves.

I admit, I have become moody due to the limitations from pain. If I don’t cook dinner by a certain time each night, which is the right time to allow me to be in bed in a timely fashion, then it’s simply not happening. And if I don’t eat a balanced diet, I will be deathly ill. One of my best friends joked that I’m damn near a vegetarian these days, which isn’t true, but can seem that way at times from the outside looking in. I don’t share in the vegetarian or vegan belief systems, so it’s really not possible for me to be either. It’s not about achieving some kind of goal or physical look, it’s merely about eating to live and getting proper amounts of rest. I hurt too damn much to get into semantics with people.

As the sun begins its rise above all the clouds, I keep wondering exactly when the “perfect” time is to get the hell out of here. Truth is, by the time I clean my bathtub (which I do several times a week because it annoys me), get ready, put up a load of laundry, and leave the house, it might very well be 4:00 PM. Trust me, the clothes are already in the dryer by the time I’m leaving, if not already dry, so there’s also that time in the “getting ready” process. Waste not.

It would be SO NICE to have someone to rely on in times like these. Someone dependable to say “I’ve got this, you go rest.” Not everyone is blessed with people in their lives who are willing to physically assist with errands and chores that have to get done. It’s not that I don’t want to do these things for myself, this isn’t about laziness, it’s about illness. I promised myself I’d learn how to ask for help this year, and accept the help that comes my way, but so far, I’ve hit a lot of brick walls and it’s disturbing to me. I loathe people who say one thing and do another, in all aspects of life. Don’t open your mouth unless you can follow through.

I’m sitting here with my tiny list, but all it does is stress me out. Normally I love grocery shopping and taking care of others, but in this moment, I’d really like someone to take care of me. I physically feel too broken to do it myself.