Eight Years

2016-05-17 Miss Poison My Mother, Pieces Of Me, Writing Loss, Mourning, My Mother, Pain, Pieces Of Me, Writing

Eight years ago tonight, I got a phone call that changed my life. It wasn’t one of those life-changing “oh, how fabulous” calls, either. It was the kind of call that brings you to your knees. Somehow, I was able to remain upright and forge ahead. By the Grace Of G-d, apparently.

Every day since, I have fought to get pieces of me back. It’s not easy, it will continue to be a battle, but I’m trying.

Today, trying was not an option. Today nearly broke me. I’ve never felt more alone in my entire life.

The reason I am a creative, intelligent, dazzling creature is because my mother willed it into being. It’s how she taught, loved, shared, and dreamed. I didn’t get to live the life she wanted for me, one superior to her own early life, but I’m not afraid to follow my dreams and live outside the box, even when it is scary as hell. I will never stop wishing she was here, because life without her has been difficult beyond words.

If you’re lucky enough to have parents that are still alive, and yes, I’ve lost both of mine, then please, treat them right. Even if they drive you insane, treat them right. For when they are gone, the truly difficult part begins. There’s no true end to grief, you just put one foot in front of the other and attempt to survive.

Tsentr budet derzhat’, mama. Tsentr budet derzhat’. Pokoysya s mirom.

Deeply Emotional Goodbyes

2016-05-09 Miss Poison Cats, Honesty, Life, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writing Cats, Emotions, Loss, Love, OGK, Pain, Sadness, Writing

I apologize to all of you for not writing this weekend. I fully intended to complete a post yesterday, but I had to prioritize a horrible Fibro flare and today, despite one of the worst migraines in my life, I forced myself out the door with sunglasses practically glued to my face, on a 30+ minute trek to say my final goodbyes to OGK.

I had hoped there was something that could be done for him, but as I sat with him, I felt his body temperature getting lower and lower, which I know is a sign that a cat is rapidly declining health-wise. I’ve said goodbye to too many not to know the signs.

OGK was abandoned at some point in his cat life in a college town. If you’re a college student and have ever abandoned a cat to the streets upon the end of a semester or graduation, there is a special place in hell for people like you. Cats are a 10-25 year commitment. If you can’t make that commitment to an animal, get a fucking tank of goldfish, but do NOT get a cat and then leave it behind, or worse, move while the cat is taking a walk because you’re stupid enough to allow it to be an outdoor cat. If you’re halfway human, find a no-kill shelter and surrender it, but do NOT toss it out like garbage and abandon it; it is a living being. It probably loved you, if you weren’t a complete and utter douchebag!

I am personally allergic to cats and proudly owned by two, whom I adopted as kittens. I will take allergy medicine, get shots, whatever it takes, to continue being their mother. There are no excuses. They know this. They know I love them. They know I would walk through fire for them. They are my cubs.

OGK was one of the rare, lucky ones who was rescued from near-death by a family member. It didn’t take him long to decide that he liked me, high praise for a cat that didn’t trust many people, and frightened easily in the early stages of his transition from street-cat to “Royal Highness”. I spent a full month in total, many years ago, teaching him to “own his property” and be the “man of the house”. Every time I saw him, he gained more confidence. It was much like watching a flower blossom.

OGK and I had our differences. He liked to wake me the second I fell asleep (Not good for my Fibro and worse when I had migraines. I have NO patience, and he tested me regularly.), he liked to meow his displeasure at me, but when he needed me most, once in February and again today, he knew I’d be there for him 100%. He knew I could be trusted and that even though I often yelled at him for waking me and driving me insane in those early stages, that I did indeed love him. He understood that I wasn’t truly being mean, that we were just learning things about each other. He allowed me to comfort him when he needed it most. He allowed me to be his friend.

At roughly 3:30 PM EDT, OGK was put to sleep to end his suffering, and my G-d, he was absolutely NOT okay and to allow him to go on as sick as he was would have been evil. He was approximately sixteen years old. But above all, he was LOVED.

I will miss his teddy bear face and his soft ears. I will miss the times he purred just for me. I will miss star-gazing with him and watching the moon with him when it was just the two of us. I will miss saying goodnight to him, when I would whisper “Goodnight my little muffin man, Auntie loves you. Come and get me if you need anything.” I will also miss him keeping me company at times when I am certain I was only good company to a cat.

When I came home this afternoon I picked up my youngest cat and said “Promise me you won’t leave Mommy until you have to, okay?”

Hug and kiss those you love the most. Squeeze them tight. Nothing in life is guaranteed. Not even tomorrow.

SAM_1074 — Rest In Peace my little muffin man. 2000-2016

Invitations

2016-04-222016-07-21 Miss Poison Honesty, Life, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writing Cat and Kitten, Family, Friends, Full Moon, Life, Loss, Love, Musings, OGK, Passover, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writing

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.

Beginnings, Endings, and New Beginnings

2015-10-02 Miss Poison Loss, Love, Motherless Daughters, Pieces Of Me, Tears, Writing Change, Emotional Pain, Endings, Family, Life, Loss, Love, My Mother, New Beginnings, October, Pieces Of Me, Writing

It’s utterly surreal how much my life has changed in the last eight years. I set out on a specific course, reached a major fork in the road, chose a direction, a dream, and now I am starting over with a dream I’ve somehow managed to keep hidden in the back of my mind, all the while making movements towards it. “Everything happens for a reason…” Sometimes that sounds like horse-shit and other times, it’s the absolute truth.

In the last eight years I have lost, loved, lost, and continued to love. Every single time I think I am shut off and that my capacity for love is gone, I am proven wrong. On this day last year, I brought an angel home. Today that angel is officially a year old and while there are a great many types of love, this one is pure and special. I feel blessed and honored to be in the presence of this love. This is the kind of love that keeps you alive and gives you purpose. It reminds you to keep fighting and keep living, even when you truly don’t want to. Even when you say “No more!”, that love is present and let’s you know that it’s okay to feel the way you do, and that you’re completely accepted.

Once or twice a year, I do a Celtic Cross Tarot Card reading for myself. I don’t do readings for anyone else because it makes me uncomfortable, but my own readings are so accurate that they bring me to tears. My most recent reading was dead-on accurate and I remember being slightly in denial at the time, but now I realize it was a message, and it was telling me exactly what I’ve been telling myself for the last few years. I liken it to a loved one treating you badly in public and a stranger stopping you to tell you that you deserve better. You KNOW you deserve better in your heart of hearts, but sometimes hearing it from someone else’s mouth is the push you need. Many of my readings are like that. In fact, all of them are. I’m really quite disturbing with the metaphysical.

Today would normally be a celebration of something else, but this year I celebrate love and new beginnings. That is the right direction, that is the answer, and I needn’t attempt to dissuade myself when I know the answers.

My mother wrote a letter to me before I was born. I found it after she died. It said “Sometimes you have put yourself first, but it doesn’t mean you’re being selfish.” She was a supremely unselfish woman and she raised me to be pretty unselfish as well. Of all the people I have lost, it’s my Mom’s voice that I can’t always remember, until I read something she wrote or a memory comes flooding back and I hear her say my name the way only three people in my life ever did. Looking at photos this morning, I realized just how much I miss my family and how I’ve never given myself time to grieve.

Thankfully, I know that there are all a part of who I am and that they’re not truly gone. Bits and pieces of each of them live on inside of me, and so, with every ending comes a new beginning.

This phoenix is ready to spread her wings and fly. She’s already been through the fire.

The Most Beautiful People…

Quote 2015-08-08 Miss Poison Inspiration, Quotes Adversity, Beauty, Defeat, Elisabeth Kubler-Ross, Empathy, Loss, People, Quotes, Struggle, Suffering, Understanding

“The most beautiful people we have known are those who have known defeat, known suffering, known struggle, known loss, and have found their way out of the depths. These persons have an appreciation, a sensitivity, and an understanding of life that fills them with compassion, gentleness, and a deep loving concern. Beautiful people do not just happen.” ―Elisabeth Kubler-Ross

Father’s Day

2015-06-21 Miss Poison Father's Day, Honesty, Pieces Of Me, Writing Candles, Father's Day, Honesty, Loss, Memories, Pain, Pieces Of Me, Suffering, Writing

You will find that I am almost completely silent on Mother’s Day and Father’s Day. I lost both of my parents within five months of each other between 2007 and 2008, so each holiday is difficult for me. My parents were young, making it all the more devastating.

I have a living, constant reminder of my father, but I don’t have one of my mother. People often assume I am exactly the same person as each of my parents and they’re wrong. I am not as ferocious as my father, though I have my moments. I am not as kind, caring, or anywhere near as compassionate as my mother. I simply lack the genetic make-up for those traits. I like to think I am the correct blend of their best qualities, but I’m highly aware that I inherited a fiery temper.

People think that when you lose your parents, you simply keep on living, that you don’t look back on their memory. They would be wrong, at least where I am concerned. There is no way for me to live without honoring the memory of the people I have loved and lost. To do less would be false, and I’m many things, but I’m not false.

On days like these, I can either ignore the issue completely or I suffer. Of course, I’ve been doing a lot of suffering lately, so I can only hope this coming week will be a better one.

To all the fathers, step-fathers, uncles, Grandfathers, & single parents who step up and handle the tough stuff, may today be a reminder of the appreciation bestowed upon you. To all the new Dad’s, welcome to parenting.

Total Recall

2015-05-232015-05-23 Miss Poison Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Stages Of Grief, Writing Loss, Memorial Day, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Recollection, Stages of Grief, Writing

Sometimes when you remember the worst days that have occurred throughout your life, the simple notion of recollection can make you deathly ill. Everyone is different in this respect. Some people have no reaction at all, and others mourn for years, feeling as though their lives are immersed in various forms of tragedy. The fact that I have total recall of events like this makes it harder for me to heal and “move on”, though I am a firm believer that we should all go through the different stages of grief in our own time and at our own pace. No one should ever tell you that something happened “so long ago” and to “get over it”. If they do, you have my full permission to beat them with the weapon of your choice and tell them to “get over it”. (Disclaimer: I am not promoting violence.)

Sixteen years ago, a friend of mine lost his life. He should have lived. I’m thinking of his kids today and it makes me nauseous knowing how their father was snatched from them so early in their lives. Alas, setting my emotions aside on this particular subject is difficult. I could go on and on about it for a year, but it would only end up being repetitious. So for now, I have to move on to another subject, but it’s hard to forget. 😦

I spend no time at all worrying about whether or not people like me. Likeability is highly overrated, and it reminds me of all the people-pleasing children in kindergarten who, oftentimes, become people-pleasing adults. That this is taught by parents and continues to happen makes me sick to my stomach. Who are people helping here, other than psychiatrists and therapists? I was raised with a very simple concept: Not everyone is going to like you and it is almost guaranteed that you won’t like everyone either, so just be yourself. Thank you Mom! 🙂 She didn’t just give me good genes, she gave me an exceptional mind and didn’t foster negativity.

Why am I talking about this? Because it disturbs me how society seeks constant approval. Do you like this? Am I pretty? Should I get Botox? Should I get breast implants? Do you like these shoes? What do you think of the car I just bought (And by all means, let me tell you exactly how much it cost, too.)? SERIOUSLY?! When did we stop asking ourselves what WE want and like? Why do we give a shit what the “color of the year” is? If you can explain any of this nonsense, you’ve already thought about it way too hard. It’s a statement, it doesn’t require a response.

All of the things that matter most in life: Health, happiness, family… It’s damn near thrown on the side of the road like unwanted garbage. There are people who would kill to have their health in tact. There are people who are desperately seeking even just small aspects of happiness. And family? Well, everyone’s interpretation is different. As long as there is love, care, support, honesty, laughter, not to mention safety, then that is a huge part of what makes a family. As a product of an abusive home and someone whose mother ultimately put her foot down and said “No more.” and left, I only wish she’d done it sooner. I often wonder if things would be different now if she had, but I try not to look in the rearview mirror too often because it’s unhealthy to be so distracted when there’s so much in front of you.

Memorial Day Weekend is the unofficial start of summer here in the United States, but it’s also about remembering why we have the freedoms that we do and honoring those who have fought for this country. I am not a fan of summer (and it’s way too cold at the moment to even think about the intensity of summer heat and humidity), but I have family members and friends who have served in different branches of the armed forces, and I salute them all.

No matter where you reside in this world, take stock of the things that are most important this weekend and take the time to enjoy something and smile.

Have a happy & safe weekend.

Memories

2015-05-202015-08-08 Miss Poison Life, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writing Family, Grief, In Memory, Loss, Love, Memories, My Uncle, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Sorrow, Writing

There are so many things in life that can be chalked up into two different categories: Good memories and bad memories. There are also “middle of the road” memories, but I’ll leave that for another day.

I woke up way too early this morning. It was still dark outside. I couldn’t quite put my finger on why I was so annoyed, bothered, and agitated. I was trying very hard not to be viciously bitchy, so I decided to keep my mouth shut. The one thing I didn’t do was sit around and ponder it, I got up and went off in search of something to do.

It probably took me four or five hours to realize that today is May 20th, the anniversary of my Uncle’s death. It astounds me that it’s been several years and didn’t just happen yesterday, which is precisely how it feels. I was completely numb then, in absolute disbelief, and I’m numb today.

I miss him.

A framed photo of him is on top of the armoire in the corner of my bedroom. I glanced up at it a little while ago, because his presence can be felt. He was the kind of person that could walk into any room and command it with absolute certainty. He had an incredibly magnetic personality and much like me, you either loved him or you didn’t. He didn’t waste time trying to win you over if you were clearly on the other side, nor did he have to. He was one of the finest human-beings to walk this planet. He always treated me like a prized daughter. Always.

A lot of women are often accused of seeking out “father figures” in their marriage choices, especially if they come from an abusive background with a father or if they never had a male role model to look to as they grew up. I am not one of those women. I do look at men closely to see how they might behave in the future with children of their own, but I do not see them as a “fatherly role model” for myself. Nor should I. It’s one of the healthier aspects of who I am in a relationship. I know myself and I know what I’m looking for. There are plenty of good men that aren’t good fathers, and plenty of good fathers who aren’t good partners or good men.

Despite the mixed emotions I have about my father and the relationship I had with him, the relationship with my Uncle is not one I ever question. Was I loved? Yes. Was I treated with respect? Absolutely. In fact, there were probably times I was treated better than his own children because we had a very deep bond. Not only can I visually pass for one of his daughters, but it’s precisely what people think when they look at me. The two people in this world I most closely resemble are my mother and my Uncle, and both of them are gone.

I have amazing memories of my Uncle. Yes, he was slightly off the wall and uniquely himself, but goodness radiated from his soul. This is, after all, the man who snuck into one of my graduation ceremonies and stood in the back so as not to interfere with the ceremony. But as I got on stage to receive my diploma, his unmistakable presence was a huge part of why I was smiling in my photos. He always showed his love and support in immense ways.

I thank him, today and always, for all that he taught me. He believed in my ability to achieve my goals, to reach new heights, and to chart new territory. As I go through a new phase in my life, I am reminded of his smiling eyes and how proud of me he always was, no matter what. He didn’t always need words, his eyes said everything for him.

I was incredibly blessed to have you in my life and I am in awe of the lives you were able to touch in your 58 years. I also breathe a sigh of relief knowing that you did not suffer.

I love you Uncle R. Thank you…for everything.

Death Never…

Quote 2015-05-20 Miss Poison Quotes Brandon M. Herbert, Death, Family, Grief, Loss, Loved Ones, Quotes

“Death never pierces the heart so much as when it takes someone we love; cleaving the heart they held with their passing.” ―Brandon M. Herbert

*In Memory of my Uncle. Ti amo con tutto il mio cuore.*

Beltane Blessings To All

2015-05-012015-05-01 Miss Poison Beltane, Blessings, Editing, Emotions, Fibromyalgia, Fridays, Life, Loss, May, Migraines, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Work, Writing Beltane, Hockey, Loss, Loved Ones, May, Migraines, Musings, Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writing

Beltane Blessings everyone! 🙂 I wish I were able to enjoy this holiday as I once did, but seeing as how it is the anniversary of a loved ones’ death, it’s still a bitter pill to swallow. Tomorrow is the 7th anniversary of the death of a beloved cat, so I’ve decided to take it easy this weekend and do my best to decompress. This week has already been stressful to the point of severe darkness.

I am still trying hard to focus on the manuscript I’m working on. You KNOW you have flipped over to the dark side of OCD when you find something wrong with your own work every single time you open the file. I keep making changes and then I have to remind myself that revisions will be made by the author, and it will be edited a final time. So, I need to push forward and let some, if not all, of the nagging in my brain go. I can’t really afford to rip any hair out of my head. Short hair, on me, is not a good look.

If you’re going to the movies this weekend, please let me know how the new Avengers movie is. I am really looking forward to seeing it. Unfortunately, I’ll have to get it on DVD because I simply do not have the time now for a movie or anything even remotely social on an external level. It’s quite sad, really, but I suspect it will be quite a while before I am able to focus on my social life, or even mild entertainment. For now, my DVR is difficult enough.

Last night I watched my team lose Game 1 (I’m going to hunt Henrik Lundqvist down and have a little chat with him about his idea of goaltending. I didn’t have time last night to threaten to beat him with his own stick when he allowed the Caps to win with 1 second left on the clock!! I’d rather sit through overtime than have my team lose at home. UGH!) of the second round of the playoffs, flipped over to The Blacklist, and then went to bed. That means there’s approximately 8-9 hours of “How much do I WATCH?!” on my DVR. If you saw the queue, you’d think I had absolutely no brain cells OR a lot of free time on my hands. I have all of my brain cells, that I’m aware of, and damn near no free time on my hands. If I had free time, I’d use it to murder my neighbor across the street who is currently mowing his lawn for the third time this week. The first two times were while I was trying not to cave my own skull in from migraines. Each time he saw another neighbor mowing within a 1-3 house range, which automatically spurred him to come out and proceed to mow, trim, and be a pain in the ass. I suspect now he is trying to make it even shorter than it was two days ago, before we get rain. Either the man is incredibly bored to be mowing in 50 degree weather OR he needs a hobby. I’m thinking it’s a combination of both. No one needs to mow their lawn that often. This is NOT a golf course or Yankee Stadium, nor is it a football field with real grass on it. Unless you’ve somehow managed to use 10-30 bottles of Miracle-Gro in a matter of days, you don’t need to be out there every few days mowing the same patch of grass over and over again. It’s borderline psychotic. (Plus, every time I sneeze from the smell of cut grass wafting in, which drives me allergies insane, my kitten mimics the sound with a meowish squeak. She feels my pain.) The fact that another neighbor across the street just joined in on this madness makes me feel like I’m listening to a dentist’s drill on a loop.

When you suffer from migraines, you become incredibly sensitive to noise. I rarely mind good music (I said GOOD.) and I can tolerate certain things at an extremely low level, but everything else is just a great big NO and has been for almost 18 years. My migraines have progressively gotten worse, so I’m extremely audio-sensitive and equally photosensitive. For me, the latter is far easier to manage most days, but especially on dark, grey days like today.

Okay peeps, I am going back to work, or at the very least, I am going to try. Enjoy your day and have an awesome weekend. 🙂