Irritability Isn’t Cute

2015-08-26 Miss Poison Exhaustion, Honesty, Life, Migraines, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writing Animals, Brutal Honesty, Cats, Exhaustion, Fibro Flares, Headaches, Life, Migraines, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Topamax, Writing

I HURT. There’s no getting around that. After nearly two straight weeks where I haven’t missed a single dose of Topamax, a migraine broke through last night. I was waiting for it. I expected it. It wasn’t nearly as bad as a migraine without a preventive in my system, but after almost two weeks with just an occasional mild headache, it was still an awful lot of pain during a time when the rest of my body was flaring up something fierce. It was only made worse by the fact that I couldn’t sleep.

This morning I decided not to punish the medication. It didn’t fail me, there will always be migraines that break through, so I took my dose, managed a little water, made a quick phone call, and now I am sitting here waiting for that call to be returned. I have documents to proof for printing later today and honestly, I am OUT after that. Just put my whiny, bitchy ass to bed and leave me here until my attitude improves. No one ever said irritability is cute, but when you can hear yourself sound utterly miserable, all you want to do is duct tape your mouth shut. Or maybe that’s just me?

Update on Maggie: This poor dog is STILL being mistreated. Apparently her paperwork checked out and the father backed off, but my next door neighbor (the husband) is expecting to be sued over the dog bite. He never added the dog to his insurance when they agreed to take the dog on temporarily for six months. His wife’s son is across the country doing some sort of mandatory USMC training and left the dog with his mother. I’m not sure if he’s ever MET his mother, but last night, while I was trying to do I don’t even remember what in silence, all I could hear was her screaming “Maggie, NO!” at the top of her lungs. I was already sick, or I would have gone outside and said “Hey bitch! What the fuck is this poor dog doing that is worth yelling at her for? Have you ever heard of a dog trainer? Perhaps they can take you for a few weeks and train you how to behave. All the dog ever does is bark and run away from you. That should tell you everything you need to know.” Alas, I was stopped because someone (not me) thought that was “a bit harsh”. I truly don’t think it could be harsh enough. Yelling and screaming at an animal is tantamount to abuse. Surely there are other family members that could take her and care for her until November/December. If you love an animal, you don’t leave it behind with an insane person. You also don’t name it like it’s a person, but hey, to each their own. People do tend to do that with dogs.

Animals don’t understand or respond to yelling. It is simply traumatic for them. I’ve seen animals run and hide if a person is simply speaking loudly, not even yelling, so some animals are more traumatized than other from being in a shelter, foster situation, from being re-homed, etc. Much like people, animals have triggers too and it is important to pay attention and be able to identify them.

In this, animals are a lot less dramatic and wishy-washy than people are. They either love you or they don’t, but once they do, they are with you ’til the end. Animals understand loyalty far better than people do.

When I come back in my next life, I am coming back as a cat.

It’s Okay To Change Your Mind

2015-08-25 Miss Poison False Friends, Friends, Friendship, Honesty, Negativity, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Relationships, Writing False Friends, Musings, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writing

It amazes me how different people identify different things within you. Some people have this incredible ability to truly see inside your soul, whereas others only see enough until you no longer serve a purpose in their life.

A friend recently told me I had a “beautiful light within” and later pointed out that I am a “ride or die friend”. She & I haven’t been friends long, so I found it interesting that she was able to pick up on crucial things about me so quickly.

There will always be people in your life who will look for things to pick apart. Ignore them. I’m not kidding, flick them away with your finger. They are so screwed up inside that the only way for them to feel better about themselves is to look at someone else and try to tear them down. It’s not about you, it’s about the sickness inside them. I can’t look at anyone and try to make myself feel better by over-analyzing their flaws. We are ALL flawed. No one is perfect, though I HAVE had people profess to be. All one can do is shake their head at blatant lies like that. People like that have forgotten that once you lie to yourself, it’s game over.

On occasion someone comes into your life and you connect. You feel like they’re a kindred soul and will be a part of your life forever. And then, in an eerie moment, they show you how false they are. How their friendship comes with terms and conditions that would make a credit card company proud. In that moment, it is entirely okay to change your mind and say “On second thought, NO THANK YOU.” Cut that plastic son of a bitch up with the sharpest scissor you can find, and send their falseness into the trash. You don’t need that kind of negativity in your life. They are wolves in sheep’s clothing.

I don’t respond well to passive-aggressive bullshit or ultimatums from people who are the wrongdoers playing victim. It goes all over me the wrong way. I can give a person credit for saying they’re sorry, but sometimes it truly is “too little, too late”.

Crappy people remind me who are my true friends are. They remind me why I’m not open to letting new people in. They remind me that no one has the right to hurt me, not even me.

WTF Moments & Pushing The Body

2015-08-20 Miss Poison Honesty, Life, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writing Cats, Chronic Pain, Crazy Shit, Fibromyalgia, Life, Limitations, Musings, Pain, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Pushing The Body, Storms, What The Fuck Moments, Writing

At 4:00 this morning, I thought someone was trying to break into my house. That is precisely how much noise an almost two-year old cat was making in her attempt to climb something, simply to give Mommy the cat version of a middle finger. She scared the crap out of me. I had thirty seconds to decide whether or not to go for a weapon. When I saw her sitting at the top of her destination, all noise has ceased, all I could do was shake my head (Don’t get me wrong, I was PISSED.), crawl from one point of origin to another, and after an hour, I realized sleep was not going to happen, but I was not about to cave and feed them at 5:00 a.m. either, no matter how many times kitten looked at me pathetically and walked me in the direction of the kitchen, as if I am slow and don’t know how to get there on my own. What is it about cats that make us question our own sense of direction? Do your animals accompany you to the kitchen too?

Kitten ate when I got home later than usual last night, but she licked her plate clean. Cat ate maybe six bites in total and ignored me for the rest of the evening. She clearly had other interests and apparently food was not on the agenda. She came to visit me when I was getting ready for bed so that she could get cuddles, kisses, and praise, but truly, she’s become so picky about food that I am considering A) A raw cat diet or B) Cooking for them myself. Both sound insane, I know, but I was reading an article and this women talked about how, by buying meat in bulk at Costco, BJ’s, or Sam’s Club, she feeds multiple cats for less than $5 a week. That is unbelievable, and quite savvy. I’m not sure about all of the supplements she talked about adding, but I clearly understand the meat she uses. That’s not complicated, though it could be if you are spending hours doing nothing but cooking for two cats. However, if it will prolong their lives and make them healthier inside and out, it’s an investment in their future. She talked about how the diet change has reduced vet visits, etc. It’s certainly an interesting concept. It sounded as though all the meals could be prepared once every two weeks, in advance, by freezing them. Again, that reduces how much physical labor you’re putting into it. Technically you could set aside a few hours and do it, the same as you would for yourself. If I do decide to go this route, I will mention it and whether or not it works for me and the littles.

As for me… I did way too much yesterday and I hurt like HELL. From my neck to my toes, I am moving like a hunchback. If the makers of Aleve knew exactly how much of their product I’d taken between late last evening and this morning, they’d be asking me to sign a waiver, absolving them of any and all responsibility. #HealthcareSucks

When I got home last night I put everything away, changed my clothes, washed my face twice (that may sound like overkill, but the first time I was removing makeup, which I did with the help of a wipe. The second time I was making sure my face was completely clean by traditional methods.), and was relieved not to be out in the humidity that a very popular meteorologist claimed was “92 degrees with 80 percent humidity”. BULL-FUCKING-SHIT. From one channel/station to another, be it radio or television, everyone was reporting different temperatures and humidity. One media outlet, in the very same area, said it was closer to 100 degrees with 100 percent humidity. That sounds about right. It was a physical slap to be outside in heat so thick, you could barely breathe. Even if you’ve never had a breathing problem in your life (like me), you walked away from yesterday with some sort of cough or breathing problem. For several hours I thought I was going to be violently sick, pass out from heat exhaustion, or fall and be run over by a car. Even with a large bottle of water with me, there was no amount that would have been “enough”. I also got caught in a heavy thunderstorm with ground to sky lightning. The rain was much more intense than the storm itself and today, more storms, more rain. That’s okay though because underneath my vampire pale skin, I am pretty sure I look like multiple trucks have hit me and then backed over my body. There’s got to be a different way to say “I feel like I’m battered and bruised internally.” However, that is often what Fibromyalgia feels like when you push your body too hard. Alas, shit’s gotta get done and I’m a one woman show.

Today I get to rest. I even went back to sleep and slept soundly, which is surprising, but I’m glad I got that extra few hours. Tomorrow I have phone calls to make and other things to tackle, but all in all, I am going to breathe. There are only 24 hours in a day and none of us are Superwoman. I, however, am not giving back the cape. 😉

Tuesday Blues

2015-08-182015-08-18 Miss Poison Chronic Pain, Goals, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Unhappiness, Writing August, Honesty, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, The Blues, Topamax, Tuesdays, Unhappiness, Writing

Normally I love Tuesdays, but today I woke up in pain. Granted, I didn’t go to bed last night feeling as though I could run a marathon, but this pain is different. In turn, it’s making me irritable beyond words. I am so bitchy, I can’t stand the sound of my own thoughts. 😦

I worked yesterday ~~and didn’t stab anyone~~ . I read, I did a load of laundry, I did research, and out of the corner of my eye I watched cat and kitten eat, play, fight, and sleep like the dead. I wish I could sleep as soundly and as peacefully as they do. Alas, I have two little creatures that walk on me, screech, meow, and act like uncivilized beasts. The very same creatures that take over my bed each day after kicking me out of it. To add insult to injury, I was holding kitten yesterday morning. She got scared by nothing at all (I have no idea what her problem is any more!) and ripped my arm open. This happened twice. I am sporting a hideously raised scratch on the inside of my left forearm that took a while to stop bleeding. The other moment (which was last night) was less bloody and is near my right wrist. I moved quicker in letting her go, so that scratch didn’t bleed and isn’t deep. I’d post photos of my wounds, but trust me, you don’t want to see this shit. Thankfully she’s an indoor cat and I don’t have to worry about either scratch (mostly the big one) becoming infected.

Someone else’s cat once bit me, albeit playfully while sprawled on my lap. and she embarrassingly said “Your cats have never bitten anyone?” She was shocked when I said “No.” I’d be mortified if cat or kitten ever hurt someone. It’s okay if they interact with me and the people they know, but it’s not okay for them to bite or scratch a stranger. That’s like letting your child walk up to a stranger and bite them. It’s inappropriate and unacceptable behavior. I don’t know anyone who’d allow that. No one civilized, any way.

11903868_832714813507816_2840378319025161817_n — Yes, please send sugar! Kimberley’s Cupcakes. Lemon Ice, Triple Chocolate, and Strawberry. I’m addicted.

So, back to my insane, bitchy thoughts…

I’m self-abusing. Mentally and emotionally cutting. Nothing dulls the shit that goes through my head. I distract myself with e-mailing friends, reading, partially listening to TV when I’m in the same room with it (“Oh, it’s over? Did an hour really just pass while I played Candy Crush Saga?”), extensively researching my impending career change, and starting and pausing my Pandora playlists. I strongly suspect I’m listening to the same songs on a loop. I keep skipping tracks and/or pressing thumbs down on others. No song needs to play four times in 30 minutes unless you have it on repeat. Ooh, Maroon 5.

Five days into the Topamax and the only issue I have is that I can no longer drink anything carbonated. I’ve switched over to iced tea and plan on moving back to tea and lemonade for a while because eventually the side effect goes away at about the six month mark. I’ve had mild headaches, but no migraines. I’m ravenous in the mornings because I MUST take this medicine before 10:00 a.m. Any later and I won’t sleep at night, but I’m positively grouchy later in the day. Other people report drowsiness if they take it during the day, but I can’t take it before bed or I won’t sleep, so I take it in the morning. Admittedly, not first thing. Cat and kitten tried waking me at 4:00, 5:00, and 6:30. By 7:30 I decided I was willing to go downstairs and feed them. Only one of them deigned to eat her food (Kitten will eat anytime, anywhere, and will eat pretty much anything.). Cat went and hid. I found her sleeping in my bed later on and she’s been here ever since. It’s a good thing I went downstairs though because, in my infinite “It feels kind of warm” wisdom, I discovered that my thermostat is acting up. No one sane would EVER put their thermostat on 99 degrees. I wouldn’t even do that during the winter if it was minus 20. I set it to 64 degrees and I leave it there. Twice in two days it has A) Turned itself off completely or B) Changed the temperature on its own. Yes, this house is haunted. For the record, it wasn’t haunted when I got here. The spirits came with me.

As this day comes to a close and begins to darken ever so slightly, I hope it carries the blues away with it. Absolutely no one needs to carries such crap around inside their soul. Hopefully I will be more positive in the days to come.

Have a good night one and all. 🙂

This Week Is Over

2015-08-14 Miss Poison August, Chronic Pain, Fibromyalgia, Life, Migraines, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writing August, Chronic Pain, Editing, Fibromyalgia, Life, Migraines, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Topamax, Work, Writing

I’ve had yet another rough, stressful week. I am emotionally exhausted. I’m also in pain that no one should have to be in. In an ideal world, I’d be able to curl up this weekend and not have to face anything until next weekend. No, I’m not delusional, I’ve just had enough.

I am sitting here nursing green tea. I don’t feel well. I woke up with a myriad of health issues. I went to bed in pain, needing Aleve to fall asleep in a state of slightly less pain, but since I forgot to take the medicine that protects my stomach from NSAID use, I’m paying for it.

Upon inspection this morning, I found two chemical burns on the back of my neck. I’m not 100% certain of the cause, but I have my suspicions. One stings, the other is seemingly in the healing phase. I hope they’ll look better tomorrow because the last thing I want to do is be seen in public with what looks like brand marks. Note to self: Must find Aquaphor. How do you cover the back of your neck in August when your hair isn’t as long as it used to be and you normally wear it up? #GirlProblems

Due to the crazy influx of migraines over the last few weeks, I began taking Topamax this morning. I’ve been off of it for three years, so I am hoping it will help prevent some of what I am experiencing. If not, I will have at least made an effort and will know that another treatment method must be found. It is better to try than to dismiss something that has worked so well for me in the past. Today is the start of a month on 25 mgs. Here’s hoping it does more than make carbonated drinks taste funny.

Was anyone able to see the meteor shower? I looked for about 30 minutes last night and all I saw were a few constellations. I couldn’t keep looking, so I went to bed. I’m betting all the fun started the second my head hit the pillow. I’ve only seen a few photos from earlier in the week.

I hope I will be able to concentrate on the shit I need to do over the next few days. I want to get as much work done as humanly possible. I haven’t been able to focus on a large page count with any regularity, but I am certainly trying. All one can do is their best. If that’s not good enough for someone, tough shit.

Summer is nearly over, and soon it will be Fall in the Northern Hemisphere. It’s my favorite time of year. The nights are already getting a bit cooler, but there’s something about the crispness of October air that rejuvenates my spirit.

Wishing you all a wonderful weekend.

Pain In The Neck

2015-08-102015-08-10 Miss Poison Editing, Musings, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writing Chronic Pain, Editing, Fibro Flares, Musings, Neck Pain, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writing

Good morning. Buenos dias. Buongiorno. Guten Morgen.

I’ve been up since 4:50 (I know this because I checked, hoping it was later.) and the only thing I can say is “UGH”! I’m in so much pain, it’s wrong. I slept in a delusional fit early last night, and again for a few hours early this morning. I am trying not to let the pain get to me, otherwise it will result in yet another migraine from the stress it is placing on my body. I do NOT need that. I do, however, need to be adopted. Any takers?

I suspect I am in so much neck pain partly due to my marathon laundry session yesterday. Did it all need to be done immediately? No, but I was trying to make the most out of a Sunday after suffering on Saturday through migraine hell. My efforts resulted in two phone calls: One to my mattress manufacturer, the second to the store where I bought said mattress.

Upon removing the mattress protector to throw it in the wash, a protector which has remained on the mattress at all times (I have more than one, obviously) since I purchased it, I discovered a hole in the top of the actual mattress. It was not there two weeks ago, or even a month ago. My immediate reaction was “What the fuck is THAT?!” At first I thought it was merely a surface tear, which wouldn’t have been an epic deal, but no, it’s a one inch by one inch hole. If you stick your thumb into it, you will hit a spring pretty quickly. The second you do and realize what a piece of crap a nearly $2000 mattress is on the inside, you feel a plethora of things. Mostly I was glad I got it on sale with my bedroom furniture because in that initial moment, I wanted to throw it at someone.

The mattress manufacturer said I should try to work with the store first since I didn’t buy it directly from them, but that if they don’t make it right I should call their warranty department and see what they are able to do for me. Yeah, I bet. 😦

I will say this: The store called me back pretty quickly. On a Sunday. Damn near unheard of. After a nice conversation with one of their “furniture specialists”, I took some photos for him and e-mailed them off yesterday afternoon. I am sure they will want to send someone out to personally inspect it before deciding if they’re going to honor the “lifetime warranty” and replace it. If it weren’t for the spring and the fact that it is a hole that will only get worse with time, I’d let it slide. The fact that they guaranteed the mattress when I bought it means they should stand behind what they sell. I hope they make good on their promise because if they don’t, you can expect to hear the store name and the names of all of the employees assisting me blasted from here to kingdom come. Chica takes notes! If the manufacturer screws with me, they’ll definitely be hearing from me via social media and every other means of communication.

I was told by two employees that it sounds like the mattress might be a “production lemon”, but that they do need to determine if the damage is their responsibility or not. I may be a major badass, but I assure you: I have never harmed a mattress in my life. Besides, you’d have to take the protector off to do that kind of damage and the protector is 100% in tact. You do the math. I loved being asked if I “had a dog”, because we all know a dog that puts such a precise, spring sized hole in a mattress, right? OY!

I was able to do some editing yesterday and talk with my client, albeit briefly. I worked on 80 pages and I am still coming across so many issues. I don’t want to prolong the process, but I don’t want to submit work back that is going to require another year of additional edits after the revisions and rewrites are done. Since this client has always self-published, she is not used to the editing process, knows nothing about it, and probably doesn’t realize how time-consuming it can be. The more work I do, the more problems I find.

“I’ve got 99 problems and this manuscript is one!”

If you find continuity issues in chapter 22 and they exist through to the end of the manuscript, it requires you to go back to the beginning and correct things from page one all the way back to the current chapter, solely because continuity errors are a bigger issue as you continue to work. You will quickly lose your patience as you find these little gifts. I don’t know how most people write, but I check my work thoroughly and would never submit a first draft to ANYONE to edit. I fixed my first draft within the first few months of writing book one, so yes, I lose my patience with people who don’t read and proof their work before submitting it to me.

When you’ve got dates in a manuscript, make sure you look at the calendar for that year and get your facts straight. If you reference a full moon on a date when there was no full moon, you don’t look like a creative writer, you look like a moron. Perhaps I’m the only person that notices such things (probably not), but you MUST have your facts straight, be it fiction or non-fiction. You can’t play around with certain things. The majority of your readers won’t notice little things, but the percentage that does notice will tell you, and no one wants to be embarrassed by continuity issues, or other things that make me grind my teeth from the stress of having to work on something so distracting as a professional. I’m developing a twitch in my eye from dealing with this.

And now, back to your regularly scheduled insanity. Me? I need a nap. Apparently writing about this made the pain worse. No, I’m not surprised.

Come Look For Me If I’m Too Quiet

2015-08-03 Miss Poison Change, Honesty, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Rebirth, Writing Changes, Creative Freedom, Editing, Focus, Happiness, Misery, Musings, New Beginnings, Pieces Of Me, Quiet, Rebirth, Work, Writing

Mondays. They are the bane of my existence. I get sick by 8:00 PM nearly every Sunday evening, knowing that Monday is only a few short hours away. I have a sneaking suspicion I should only work Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday. Perhaps I shall rename the week days altogether. I’m starting to suspect that an insulated cave with WiFi and food delivery is the way to go, something very “off the grid”, so to speak. I’m not entirely sure the world is capable of handling me on any level.

I desperately want quiet. True peace, true silence. I hid in my bathroom while my neighbor did the landscaping on my property and mowed next door. Why? Because it was the only place where I didn’t have to hear the roar of the riding mower and the drill saw sound of the trimmer. By the time he was finished, which wasn’t very long, I thought the migraine was going to send me to the emergency room, begging to be put out of my misery. That was Saturday night. This morning, I don’t feel that much better, though I can say the pain has shifted and is no longer trying to shoot itself out of my skull. Small victories.

I realized a few days ago how utterly disillusioned and unhappy I am with my line of work. If I did realize it beforehand perhaps I never voiced the truth to myself, but I’m doing it now.

Those of us who are highly creative don’t do well when we’re boxed in, and I think I may have accidentally done that to myself over the past few years. I’m done. Within the next 6-8 months, I am going to stop editing for other people. I will still beta and do critiques, I will still be present for those that want/need my knowledge and skill-set or simply want a reliable, experienced person to turn to, but I am going to be doing two things once the time-frame passes.

I will be focusing on my writing, and I will be starting something new that will allow me a great deal of creative freedom. I’d rather juggle the two than be miserable for the rest of my life. Misery is unacceptable, so it is high time for a transitional rebirth. I’m sure I will be met with some negativity here and there, but ultimately I am the one that has to be happy and this is a way for me to achieve that in some small fashion, or perhaps a very large way. I won’t know until I dive in.

I am a firm believer that everything happens for a reason. Once you’re able to see the full vision of “Why is this happening?”, you’re almost grateful because it lets you know how strong you are and how much you can handle without going utterly batshit crazy. I am counting my blessings, of which there are many, and thanking God for who and what I am today.

I will still be writing, but hopefully the mood will shift. While I will always be open and honest about migraines, Fibromyalgia, depression, suicide, and other things I deem important to discuss, it’s also crucial that I have more time to focus on my fictional work in order to speed up the publishing process.

I am planning a YouTube channel and some other things that some of you may or may not appreciate, but will have access to all the same. So yes, there will be some changes up the road, but I am embracing it all because I’m tired of dulling my shine to make other people feel more at ease.

Many people told me that when I was ready, it would be time to focus on myself exclusively. They assured me it wasn’t selfishness, but about prioritizing my needs over that of being dutiful. I’m ready.

Here’s to new beginnings… Cheers!

The Moon Brings Out The Loons

2015-08-022015-08-02 Miss Poison Honesty, Migraines, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writing Chronic Pain, Honesty, Migraines, Musings, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writing

“Sometimes the most powerful person in the room is filled with senseless doubt.” -Lisa M. Marino

Normally I don’t comment on the lunacy of the Full Moon, but this Blue Moon? Good Lord, it’s brought out the crazy!

There are very few people in the past two weeks who have not lost their mind and said something ridiculous beyond words to me, outright started a fight, or got uppity with me. It’s quite interesting how obsessed, self-absorbed, and repressed some people are. It’s even more interesting to me when anyone comes at me with newborn kitten claws and expects me not to have fangs. Cat and kitten are smarter than 99% of the people I know. That’s not my opinion, it’s a proven fact based on the behavioral patterns of the past two weeks.

I live by some very simple rules when it pertains to certain things.

#1- I do not apologize unless I am 100% in the wrong and truly sorry about it. I’m not going to apologize because someone misunderstood me when I was clear and concise and feels “hurt”. Take the whining somewhere else; compassion is not my strong suit. You cannot guilt me into an apology when I did nothing wrong. Victimizing yourself only irritates me.

#2- If you attack me like a child, I will sleep on it. I can be vicious and it is not beneath me to hit back hard, but some people simply aren’t worth the effort.

#3- Temper your words. It’s not always necessary to come out guns blazing. If someone brings a knife to a metaphorical gun fight though, all bets are off.

I, myself, have had a rough week. One bad day became three migraines and a horrible Fibro flare that sent me into a tailspin. And now? The remnants of Migraine #10. That is 10 full-blown migraines in five days. Chronic Migraine is classified as 15 or more headache days per month. I’ve had five days of multiple migraines, because apparently one isn’t enough.

Chronic Migraine is considered “chronic” if you experience 8 migraines in one month, but have 15 headache days that make it unbearable to function. What the hell does a person have to do to get some relief? Being told I “don’t actually have migraines” when I’ve had them since 1997 is an immense slap in the face. Perhaps one might like to explain the ice picks in my head and all the other lovely side effects of a migraine that have gotten worsen as I’ve gotten older. Clean MRI’s means it’s not my imagination, that it is indeed migraines.

I thought my very first migraine was the absolute worst. It went on for a week, it was probably the most horrific thing I had physically experienced up to that point, and that doesn’t even include the injuries I acquired in sports, so by my calculations, that means it was off-the-charts BAD.

I would never take migraine medication if I was merely experiencing the occasional headache. There is an immense difference between migraines, tension headaches, sinus headaches, and regular headaches. None of these things are “normal”, but I would never denounce someone else’s pain and dismiss it. When people tell others that “pain is weakness leaving the body” or other such anecdotes, I would like them to experience the suffering many of us experience daily for a few hours. They would come away singing a whole other tune, that much I’m sure of. No one who suffers from any form of chronic pain needs to be told there’s nothing wrong with them or that it’s “all in their head”. It’s disrespectful.

I hope everyone is having a healthy, positive, pain-free weekend. I’m simply taking things hourly. I can’t function on a grander scale at the moment.

Voice Mail

2015-07-302015-07-30 Miss Poison Humor, Musings, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writing Humor, Musings, Phone Calls, Poison In Lethal Doses, Voice Mail, Writing

I was checking voice mail messages a little while ago. I find it oddly disturbing that there is a message from 3:09 a.m. No, it was not a booty call. It was actually from my brother, which would make the whole “booty call” thing extremely bizarre, but I’ll leave that one for an episode of Maury. There was noise in the background and him saying “Oh, no problem.” to someone and then he says “Hello? Well, if you get this message can you call me back?” He could have been calling anyone, there was nothing definitive about who he might be talking to. There was no “Hey sis…” or anything normal. Granted, nine out of ten messages I leave for him sound parental and stern. They usually involve the words “Rude”, “Asshole”, “Un-fucking-believable!”, and/or “Call me back immediately!” That’s what happens when you ignore text messages, e-mails, and phone calls for 3-6 hours and were supposed to be here for dinner at 7:00. It could also just mean he’s being a moron.

Message #2 was from a health insurance company. I changed my phone number five months ago and yet, I am constantly getting calls for the family that had the number prior to me. I called my phone company within a few hours of having the number and said “I’m being flooded with calls and haven’t given my number to anyone yet, what the hell?!” I was not happy. Their response was “Give it a week and if it doesn’t stop, we will change the number for you for free.”

I have told this health insurance company no less than four times that “Eric” is not at this number because it is now MINE. They told me each time that they’d “reflect that in the system”, and yet I’ve received two calls in the past 24 hours, for “Eric”. I am determined to tell them to stop calling here the next time I catch them in the act. How often does a health insurance company obsessively try to track you down these days? They’re not calling for any Eric I know, and I can glean that from the last name they used.

That’s just my landline.

I’ve had my cell phone number for seven months. The new number came with the new phone my brother gifted me for Chanukah. Nine out of ten calls that come in are NOT for me.

At least three times a week I get a recorded call letting me know I have won A) a cruise, B) a free vacation, or C) Some material item. I think it was an iPad this week, it’s usually something along those lines. Less than eight seconds into each call, I delete the message.

I’ve “won a free honeymoon” twice. One was back in 2008. Not only am I not engaged, but I never entered any of these contests. One of my old wedding magazine subscriptions enrolled me in a contest I knew nothing about, so when a relationship ended and I “won a free honeymoon” a few months later, I was sorely tempted to grab my nearest male friend and say “Let’s go honey!” I didn’t because fraud is fraud, but I was tempted. Now the idea of going to certain places makes me nauseous. Curacao? Nope. Aruba? Hell no. The Bahamas. No, but by all means, send me a postcard.

The messages that most annoy me aren’t the ridiculous ones though, they’re the ones from friends and family that forget they’re A) Not talking to an answering machine and B) Act as though I have no idea who they are. They often start with “Hi sweetie, it’s so-and-so.” I.know.who.you.are. I promise. My brain is not addled. My Great-Aunt Alice used to call (very rarely) and would always say “Do you know who this is?” She did it when I was little, so to hear it when I was in my 20’s really wasn’t cute. Don’t think for a second I wasn’t tempted to A) Hang up on her or B) Tell her “No, who the hell is this?” I didn’t though because I was raised with manners. Factor in Caller ID and unless it says Unknown or is a number I truly don’t recognize, I know exactly who is calling. No need to be formal; leave a message, I’ll call you back.

A month or two before my Uncle passed away I called to see how he was doing. He answered and after saying “Hi Uncle Bobby, how are you?” he said “Who the hell is this?” Mind you, he had exactly ONE niece, so I didn’t feel the need to follow the hello up with a name to give him assistance, but when we got off the phone I sat and thought “At least when I call my Aunt, she doesn’t need to know who I am.” I once told someone in her office, upon leaving an emergency message, that “She only has one niece, I think she can keep track!” It didn’t sound snippy at the time, but hindsight is 20/20. Most people know my voice, so they don’t need to be told who it is. Plus, they can look at their Caller ID too, it’s not rocket science.

Do you get any weird phone calls or voice mail messages that amuse or annoy you?

It’s Okay

2015-07-202015-07-20 Miss Poison Chronic Pain, Fibromyalgia, Musings, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writing Creativity, E-Mail, Friendships, Introverts, Life, Musings, Poison In Lethal Doses, Relationships, Technology, Writing

11698847_1049691071731005_126594818637112553_n — Just in case some people need a reminder about this.

For an incredibly communicative person, I don’t always want to talk. As a creative-type, I spend a lot of time inside my head. As a writer, it’s my job to state the facts, and when writing fiction, it’s my job to create a world that is relatable and draws you in. I feel blessed to be able to do those things, but sometimes, it feels really good to communicate with others in some tangible way.

As many people who suffer from a form of chronic pain, I have become accustomed to “my cage”. I’m good as long as I have my laptop, music (when I can tolerate sound), cat and kitten (’cause they’re soft and sweet…most of the time), movies, books/Kindle, and my DVR. Occasionally, throw some food at me. You might want to feed the writer regularly though, I’m told she tends to get “hangry”.

I caught myself over the last few days with both my landline phone and cell phone sitting next to each other while I was writing, as if I am just SO important that the calls in my life are non-stop. They aren’t. I’d get rid of the landline completely if it didn’t utterly freak me out to not have a phone at home when my cell is acting up, or in an emergency. I spend more time e-mailing and texting people than I do talking to them, though a lot depends on the other person and where they live.

I’ve received Skype messages on my phone from my brother when he was five minutes away, because apparently I need to watch him try on sunglasses and “approve” what looks good on him and what doesn’t. (Did you just roll your eyes? I sure did!) I receive goodnight Skype messages from my Goddaughter because she wants to make sure I’m not in pain. Alas, I cannot and will not lie to a four year old.

E-mail probably wasn’t created to replace letter writing, but it took over almost completely. I’m a little surprised when someone sends me something handwritten. A card when it isn’t a holiday or my birthday is downright celebratory. You should see how I act when packages arrive, because I know full well I didn’t order anything.

There are aspects of this highly digital age that annoy the crap out of me (You will read about it in another post.), and there are amazing breakthroughs in technology that people dreamed about being a possibility “in the future”, but that was 20 years ago, or longer, and most of them aren’t here to see their vision realized. My Grandfather would have been incredibly intrigued by a lot of this. I cannot picture him taking selfies though.

Ultimately, it’s okay to be an introvert and not feel a deep desire to be “amongst the people” every single day of your life. It’s okay to pick and choose your friends, who and what you devote your time to, and it’s even more okay to be yourself, without apologies.

Nothing and no one in life is perfect, but when you have the essentials, say a prayer each night for them. They’re worth more than you know.