“Something, somewhere, knows what’s best for me and promises to keep sending me people and experiences to light my way as long as I live in gratitude and keep paying attention to the signs.” ―Jennifer Elisabeth
People
Cherish The People Who Give You Peace
I don’t feel any of this at the moment, but I feel like it’s important to share it. 🙂
Out Of Sorts, And Then Some…
I’d like to thank the two people who reached out to me with messages of encouragement, respect, and kindness after my last post about how horrible I am feeling (My feelings have only worsened.). Steven & Tasha; your words genuinely helped me and, from the bottom of my heart, they meant the world to me. Thank you both SO much. I don’t even have the words for how touched I am.
As for the rest of the world; I’m not really feeling people too much these days. Granted, I am not a people person on a good day, but it would certainly be nice if some people were more aware of their words, behavior, and attitudes towards me. I’m sick of being told how I am speaking, how I sound, how I’m behaving, etc., because I’m well-aware of my intent when I’m being human. If you don’t know my tones, then you don’t know how I’m speaking, how I sound, or precisely how I am behaving. I’m not two, and I don’t require psycho-analysis by people who really ought to save that for those who need it. You’ll only piss me off, and at the moment, I’d shy away from that if at all possible.
I believe that life, and people, has/have highs and lows, but what do you do when you’re stuck on LOW and don’t know how to rise, and cannot find a reason why you should? I’m hardwired to get up each morning, feed Cat and Kitten, sometimes feed myself, but of late, I’m so physically, mentally, and emotionally drained that I don’t know how to do it any more. “It” being “anything”.
I adopted Cat and Kitten to help keep myself alive. Cat was a foster from a kill shelter, so I felt like by rescuing her, I was saving my life, along with hers. Win-win. Kitten is from a no-kill shelter; and I love to support no-kill shelters because they’re crucial to the survival of so many animal’s lives. Unlike Cat, who has divided love/loyalties (I’d like to say she has a big heart, but I’m genuinely not sure she even likes me most of the time.), Kitten is my faithful companion. Even when I move her off of my blanket at three in the morning so I can get comfortable or grab a few hours of sleep, she forgives me in minutes. Cat holds a grudge if I move her or rearrange her on the bed. In fact, as I am typing this Kitten is making little sounds in her sleep and giving me her belly, instinctively knowing that I am by her side. She is named in honor of my original Tortoiseshell. I’ve noticed over the past two years that she is basically a gift from her; a true companion sent to go through life with me. She’s not a “replacement cat”, she’s a piece of my original cat that I know in my heart was sent to me. But lately, caring for both of them each day has been physically and emotionally taxing.
I have reached out to organizations to try to get emergency help in order to feel better, but after applying for insurance MONTHS ago (which should be underlined ten times), I still haven’t been approved, nor have I received anything in writing from them, which they’ve repeatedly promised each time I’ve called. The answer I’ve gotten is “You’re in the system. You should hear from us in approximately 2-3 weeks by mail.”, before I’ve been hung up on! There’s a reason they call them Massholes, and it’s NOT because they’re all perfectly well-mannered (a small percentage, yes. The rest? Not so much.). I believe they had roughly 30-45 days to approve or deny me from day one, and that I’d then have a period of time to appeal, if denied, but at this moment I feel like I’m stuck at square one. In turn, after giving them one final call this coming week, I am reapplying. I’m utterly tired of the bullshit, because this is clearly a runaround, so I am going to fill out the application they deigned to send me (I have my original documents from last year, all I have to do is insert the same answers), attach copies proving that I’m a legal citizen with a bank account, and fax it instead of mailing it. That way, I’ve confirmed receipt of the documents and won’t feel jerked around, as I have clearly been for all these months. I’m sick of paying for medication out-of-pocket when that $20-$35 (it ranges based on the discounts I’m able to find) could feed me, or my cats. Overall, I’m sick of the struggle of trying to live, and failing miserably. I need to be able to see doctors without cringing over out-of-pocket costs that frankly, I can’t do.
Everyone’s definition of “failure” is different. Not being able to take care of what is most important in my life; that is true failure to me. Not being able to protect my loved ones and keep them safe; that is failure. Thankfully, I care, I am emotionally present, and I’m not a vile human-being, so on that front, I am NOT a failure. I’d hate to be a heartless, cruel individual who only cared about herself. Thankfully, I was raised by two wonderful women (My mother and Grandmother) and selfishness wasn’t a part of their make-up, so it isn’t a part of mine. I miss them both more than words can say. Everything feels like yesterday in terms of loss; at least for me.
This evening I merely want to survive the mind-numbing migraine that exploded on me this afternoon in the grocery store, to the point where I had to run to the ladies room to be sick. 😦 That has never happened to me in public before (except after having blood work done, and that was one time), but after that I quickly made my way to the register and went outside for some fresh air, despite the fact that it was indeed freezing and took over forty-five minutes before I could feel my ears again. The smells inside the store were making me violently ill and the noise wasn’t much better. This afternoon I indulged in silence, darkness, and a nap, but it only made the migraine that much worse. At the moment, I am praying that three ibuprofen will kick in, along with caffeinated tea I’ve been nursing since three o’clock this afternoon. Some people need coffee to feel human; I need strong Earl Grey with real sugar.
This week and this weekend, I am definitely out of sorts, but don’t worry… I’ll be back soon with something I’ve been dying to write, but have kept under wraps for years. No more. The Beast Is Back.
copyright © 2017 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
Successful People
“Successful people are not gifted; they just work hard, then succeed on purpose.” –G.K. Nielson
Don’t Waste Your Time
“Don’t waste your time trying to provide people with proof of deceit, in order to keep their love, win their love, or salvage their respect for you. The truth is this: If they care they will go out of their way to learn the truth. If they don’t then they really don’t value you as a human being. The moment you have to sell people on who you are is the moment you let yourself believe that every good thing you have ever done or accomplished was invisible to the world. And, it is not!” ―Shannon L. Alder
Never Be Afraid To Raise Your Voice
“Never be afraid to raise your voice for honesty and truth and compassion against injustice and lying and greed. If people all over the world…would do this, it would change the earth.” ―William Faulkner
You Ever Notice…
If I stop speaking to you, it’s probably because you are a habitual line-stepper and don’t know when to stop. That, or you’re dead to me. Depends on the day of the week. I leave the individual to wonder why. 
The Official Rules Of Lisa: Part One
Prior to the full moon, people are often lining up to start fights with me. If they aren’t outright starting fights (By the way, if you do attempt to start a fight via text message, e-mail, or Facebook messenger, you’re nothing more than a punk ass bitch.), they are rude, combative, or just plain bitchy. I don’t have time for that level of crap and I have even less time for drama, so I’ve made a list of official rules for people to understand my basically non-existent tolerance levels.
- I am NOT a morning person. If you want to be met with sugary cheerfulness or anything more than a grunt or a mild “Good Morning.”, I am NOT your girl. Go to a bakery for the sugar. Come back around 5:00 PM when I am usually quite civilized.
- When I have a migraine and you make any kind of noise within a half-foot radius of me, I have contemplated killing you and/or throwing heavy objects in your general direction. Blasting music or the radio at decibel levels that match a whale (Google it.), vacuuming, slamming doors, raising your voice, cooking or preparing anything with a strong smell, fucking with the temperature so I can’t breathe, etc., is pushing my buttons. Every single sound is like a freight train moving through my skull (Even my cats’ purrs nauseate me, and I LOVE them to bits.) and you’re not helping matters. I may not have killed you yet, but I’m thinking about it long and hard. I’ve already prepared my insanity plea.
- When I am in physical agony due to a Fibromyalgia flare-up, which, much like a migraine, is completely out of my control, please don’t ask me how my day was when you can see the pain etched on my face. If I have managed to get out of bed and cook a meal, realize the gift that is and don’t yap at me. Take insane demands somewhere else until I am no longer suffering the effects of brain fog and can lance you with the truth, as opposed to your version of the truth.
- I internally laugh out loud (Okay, I cackle with laughter.) when people offer to cook for me. Honestly! Order a pizza because I am silently judging you for not being as good a cook as I am. Yes, this might make me a terrible person (I don’t care if it does, really. Hell and I are well acquainted and Lucifer has an iron-clad restraining order.), but I hate eating things I can’t taste or that have questionable ingredients in them. It drives me insane. It’s nice of you to offer, but let’s not joke about serious matters. #FoodieThatCooks
- If I am having difficulties sleeping, do we really need to point out the obvious? No, we do not. Insomnia is not a choice. Keep it moving.
- I am direct and honest about what I suffer from and to what extent. Don’t ever question it. It’s not on the table for discussion, EVER. I’d never question someone saying they weren’t feeling well because quite frankly, it’s fucking rude. I’ve never said “It’s just laryngitis. You’re fine.” or “It’s just a cold, get over yourself.”
- I’ve NEVER used a migraine as an excuse to not do something. I have NEVER used Fibromyalgia as an excuse not to do something. Are they legitimate reasons I cannot function a great deal of the time? Yes, but they are not “excuses”. If you insinuate such, there is something fundamentally wrong with you. Live in my shoes for six months, suffer this pain every single day, and we’ll see who’s making excuses then, okay?
- Precisely WHO do you think you’re screwing with?!
- Sometimes people develop verbal diarrhea. Bottled up craziness comes flying out of their mouth, as you watch on in morbid disbelief. You’re not sure whether to get a hose and clean them off or to just let them spew like a psychopath. If you behave this way around me and I walk away, you’re not “winning the argument”, because there isn’t one. I’m not “hiding from you”, either. I am choosing to be the adult and walk away until you have showered away your psychosis because murder is still illegal in this country and orange is NOT the new black.
- Interestingly enough, the people who tend to behave like this are also the same people who never hear the crap they say to you. They are “perfect”, “innocent”, and “absolute angels”; according to them. They’re full of kindness and compassion. They’re full of something all right, but it’s neither kindness nor compassion. Save your raging vitriol for therapy because I will not accept that kind of treatment. I don’t care who you think you are.
- One of my official rules is that I am supremely loyal, until you do something to terminate that loyalty. If you’re talking about me behind my back, verbalizing issues you have regarding me without speaking to me first (Venting is one thing, but NOT when it gets back to me.), or you’ve gone as far as to put those words in print, thinking I won’t find out about it; THINK AGAIN. The CIA’s got NOTHING on a Scorpio woman. I have ways of finding things out that will downright terrify you.
- Don’t say things you cannot take back. I’m listening, and there are a lot of things I will NEVER be able to un-hear because they’re unforgivable. In the heat of the moment we have all said something unpleasant, rude, or wrong to someone else, usually a loved one. One of the things I respect about myself is my ability to apologize when I hear how I sound, which is usually quickly. If you cannot accept an apology, which is a basic human response that says “Hey, I’m not perfect either.”, then there’s something wrong with you. #1- We’re not all psychotically obsessive compulsive about the small stuff and #2- You have no right to judge me unless you are 1000% flawless. No one is, not a single living being on this planet, so accept the apology like a human-being. You’re not a flawless diamond, and neither am I.
- Being truly genuine is rare, but it’s precisely how I am. I don’t need a pat on the back for doing something nice, or for doing the right thing(s). I simply do them. If you are keeping score, doing something nice only to throw it back in someone’s face at a later date, or anything else that is blatantly disingenuous, then do everyone a favor and don’t do anything because it is immensely hurtful to have anyone try to keep score like that. If you’re heartless, by all means, keep on being heartless. It’s your prerogative. I’ll pray for you.
- The world doesn’t revolve around you, or me.
- If you are going to be fake, please don’t do it around me. I don’t have the time, patience, or the inclination to be phony. Life is short, and it’s getting shorter every minute.
- If you’re angry about something, USE YOUR WORDS. Being violent (ie: Throwing things at people) and nasty (verbally) isn’t acceptable when you’re a toddler, so why should it be acceptable for an adult?
- I do not forgive the unforgivable. I find that incredibly unhealthy. And I NEVER forget. That’s not stupid, that’s wisdom.
- If you want respect, try giving it. It’s something that has to be earned.
- My personality is different from pretty much anyone you’ve ever known; as it should be. Dry wit is not rude or sarcastic. If I’m being sarcastic, I’ll be the first to say so, but don’t assume that everything I think or say is sarcastic or rude. If you cannot appreciate my presence or sense of humor; by all means, fuck off.
- I don’t have to be YOU in order to live my life. Once again, life is short. I’m seeking happiness, not another source of abuse.
- Communicate. Appreciate. Validate. And stop being a bitch/asshole. It’s unattractive.
copyright © 2016 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
What The Hell Was I Thinking?!
Last month, a client booked me for the first two weeks of September. Upon receiving her manuscript two and a half weeks early (She genuinely seemed to think that was okay.), I put my foot down and said I would not start until September 5th since she had not booked an earlier spot. She, surprisingly, agreed. I’m not being paid enough to do all that she’s demanding, and I mean it when I say the list keeps growing, but I made a commitment and I’ll honor it. Pray for my eyeballs and back, please. You know where I’ll be for the next two weeks. 😦
Normally I don’t mind proofreading and providing notes for someone, but this time I realize it’s the money that’s insulting me. It’s not befitting of my experience and what I bring to the table. The client hired nine other people, along with me. In my opinion I find it more cohesive to work with one proofreader. Conflicting thoughts and opinions is best left for your beta readers, not a proofreader. Demanding pages upon pages of notes when you’re not even paying my hourly rate for the entire job is enough to enrage me. However, it’s 100% my fault. I agreed to do it, knowing in advance that the money might cover 26 cans of cat food or a tiny amount of food for a human. Oh, how the mighty have fallen. 😦
If you’re an inexperienced high school or college student, this would be a little play money or Ramen noodle money for you. For an experienced adult, it is insulting, but again, 100% my fault. I have no room to complain or bitch, despite doing so, because I agreed to do it knowing what was involved, partially. Please, someone schedule me for a brain MRI, stat. I want to make sure it’s still in there.
I am in the midst of a week-long flare-up, after spending less than a week walking over fifteen miles. That’s nothing for most people; fifteen miles. They don’t even know they walk approximately ten miles a day (this is considered the national average of walking a person does daily, but a lot of my friends have told me they do the bare minimum, which means I actually move more than they do!), but for a Fibromyalgia patient, walking fifteen miles over the course of five days is the equivalent of running a marathon or winning Olympic Gold. It’s impossibly painful at this advanced stage, and yet I somehow managed it. I have yet to claim my reward. 😉
Between migraines and the pain in my back; I’ve found it immensely difficult to sleep. I’m struggling with my allergies as well, so all of these things keep me awake when I want to be asleep and make me sleepy when I want to be awake. Melatonin and/or my allergy meds have provided up to 12 straight hours of sleep some days. My body always goes through this before the Fall Equinox, but a lot of this began in August, so anyone who thinks Global Warming is a joke is wrong.
And so, I sit here on Labor Day, isolated from the world. I’ve felt alone most of my life, truly alone, but this year it’s worse. There’s no one to watch baseball with. There’s no one to ask if I am making hot dogs or hamburgers, if I’m making fries, or inquire as to whether or not I got pie. Being intentionally isolated by family and friends is incredibly hurtful, but feeling like I have to withdraw even harder to keep myself in tact is worse.
I have spoken to one friend via Facebook messenger, another via e-mail, and received a few text messages inquiring about my health. The only genuine concern I’ve received today, the only genuine love, has been from Cat and Kitten. Of course, Kittens’s love is a continuous thing, growing each day. She chooses to spend time with me when she could be off doing silly cat things or sleeping. Cat, not so much. She has been better these past few days; bringing me toys and giving affection. She is being sweet, which is her general disposition. Perhaps she has felt much as I’ve felt these many months; unhappy. The only difference is, she is given love and care every single day. I’ve never abandoned her. I’m allowed to feel less than human, and what’s worse, I’ve been told I am less than human. It’s a wonder I haven’t killed anyone yet.
Ultimately, there are worse things in life than someone trying to be cruel and failing. There are people who have lost their homes and everything they own due to floods and fires, there are people who are homeless through no fault of their own, people who have died or been injured in earthquakes, and there are people who are sick and dying because no one gives a damn. “Band-Aids don’t fix bullet holes.”; this is one of the most honest phrases ever written and yet, I have continually found it to be true. Far too many people think a politely worded lie will mend the damage done. I’m certain I live in a world where things get more bizarre by the day.
If you are in the States, I wish you a happy unofficial end to the summer. If you’re not here, be glad, for we’ve got a maniac running for President and crazy shit happening on the daily. Nothing is as simple as it seems. Nothing is ever so cut and dried.
I, for one, will be glad to see this day end, and hopefully everyone dealing with the remnants of the tropical storm is safe and sound.
Merry meet, merry part, and merry meet again. 🙂
copyright © 2016 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
How You Treat People Tells All
Written by LISA MARINO-Molchanova 