“When you fail to tap into your wellsprings of inner strength due to toxic habits, environments or people, you wind up feeling trapped, stranded, and unhappy. You end up in soulless jobs, destructive relationships and empty friendships. Most of all, you find yourself unsatisfied with who you are, and you often become your own worst enemy, perpetuating the cycles of pain, anger, and fear within you – like I did.” ―Aletheia Luna
Unhappiness
Shutting Down
I’ve had roughly six pain-free hours in the past two weeks, so bear with me. I could never say “I hurt.” enough. 😦 That’s not even the appropriate terminology for what I’ve been experiencing, and I hate it.
Pain isn’t always physical. For me, it often is, but sometimes pain is also emotional. I don’t care who you are; we’ve all been there. Whether we care to admit it or not, it is a fact of life, in varying degrees. No one lives a supremely happy existence 24/7. If they do, they aren’t human.
I hate making plans for a day, or even two consecutive days, and not being able to do much of anything, save washing my face, brushing my teeth, caring for Cat, Kitten, and OGK, and doing simple things, like a load of laundry, or cooking a meal. I know for some people, the thought of cooking a meal as a Fibro/Chronic Pain patient means “heavy duty work” (and it’s something so many of you have told me you no longer do, for various reasons.), but for me, it truly is simple nine times out of ten. If it were too much for me, I wouldn’t do it. If I couldn’t do my laundry, it would simply pile up. There are days when I just want to walk out of the house and not come back. Far more than I care to admit. The past few months, I have felt that way a lot. More than a lot. It’s been a daily struggle.
It’s unbelievably lonely living in a state where you only know three people, where you’re almost completely isolated, where the TV and your laptop (and the cats) are your best friends. It’s not just lonely, it’s sickening and pathetic. But here are the facts: I am not a joiner. I do not talk to strangers simply to “connect” with new people. That’s not me. I am not a small talk kind of chick. I will not discuss nonsense with anyone simply to have something to run my mouth about. You’d think some people would appreciate that level of depth, but instead, people simply see it as me being unpleasant, a bitch, or any number of other things that aren’t true. Ultimately, the truth of the matter is, I am too honest. I lost my filter many moons ago, so if you ask me a direct question, you may or may not like the answer, but that’s not really my problem.
I make an exerted effort to pull back on my temper and be supremely polite and engaging, but if a situation really doesn’t involve me and there’s nothing for me to say, I will quietly observe. The last time I checked, this was not a crime.
I’m hurting, and no one sees it. No one cares enough to do so.
I want to sit, eat chocolate, and cry until I cannot see. Perhaps I have not received the support I need because this is the first time I’m voicing the distress I feel, but come on?! How blind is everyone?! Things are so bad in my life at this moment, I have no idea how to pull myself out of the mess that it is, and yet, all the outside world is going to see is the girl with the makeup on who forges ahead. I could be bleeding out of my eyeballs, but no one would notice that, not unless it started spraying everywhere which, I agree, is completely unsanitary, despite the fact that I am free of blood borne diseases.
My attention span is so poor that it has taken me several months to finish a book I would normally read in a few hours. I cannot watch an hour of TV in one sitting, because my mind wanders and then I have to rewind it back to where I was initially paying attention. And yet, I somehow managed to sit through one of the worst movies EVER (I’ll tell you which one if you ask nicely.) in two sittings, desperately waiting for the fucking plot. Guess what? There wasn’t one, it was absolute garbage. I’d like to get that two hours of my life back, along with three hours from a few years ago that I had to spend dealing with a family member’s meshugas. I’ve since stricken this person out of my life much the same way Ramses tried to strike Moses out of The Ten Commandments (If you haven’t seen this movie, shame on you.).
Too often people refer to their autoimmune diseases and mention how it deeply affects their brain function. They are 100% correct in that it does affect our thought process, among many other things. There are moments when I feel like someone has erased huge chunks from my mind, yet I can recall other things with perfect clarity, to the point where it’s terrifyingly eerie. So, call it “Brain Fog” or “Fibro Fog”, but whatever it is, I definitely feel it more often than not. Last night, at dinner, I momentarily tried to figure out where the piece of bread came from on my plate. I’d been eating not ten seconds before, but I drew an absolute blank staring at this small piece of bread, one of my absolute faves, because I couldn’t recall it being there. I catch myself mentally checking out, shutting down when I shouldn’t, and it’s a miserable feeling. Don’t ask me what I did this week because, unless I wrote it down, I haven’t the foggiest fucking clue! 😦
Before I forget, I want to discuss someone being attacked for suffering from Lyme Disease. I absolutely HATE IT when hundreds of people come out of the woodwork and accuse a fellow sufferer of an invisible illness of faking it “for attention”. As if! Yes, there are people who DO fake all kinds of illnesses, but this person is someone with integrity. She’s not creative enough to make this shit up, and she so desperately wants her old life back that there’s no way in hell she’d put herself through a “fake illness”. It’s not gaining her anything, being sick, so for people to think that and make their accusations public pisses me off.
Lyme Disease is a complicated son of a bitch. It can happen to ANY of us at ANY given time, so only the ignorant are the ones wasting time judging. Lyme can lie dormant for YEARS and is one of the largest, growing epidemics in the world. If caught early, you can be treated with antibiotics and go about your life, but if the disease has been in your system for 10+ years, it is going to take its toll. Most people have no reason to be tested for it, but I’ve been tested for it on a regular basis since I was eight. So, I know precisely what I am talking about.
Instead of allowing fellow autoimmune sufferers to be bashed, we should be banding together in support of those who hurt the way we do. Being a good person means doing a little research sometimes. Being a good friend means you do the research when your friend is suffering, and by no means do you allow others to denounce their pain and suffering. We all know that our symptoms can be co-morbid with other illnesses, it’s a fact, but the next time I hear someone disrespecting a fellow sufferer to the extent that this person has been attacked, I will seriously open up a can of whoop ass on those doing it Steve Austin stole that line from me back in the day, not the other way around. 😉
Now that that’s off my chest, the weekend is here, it’s freezing, there’s a little snow on the ground, and yet, it will be 70 degrees on Wednesday. I kid you not. I am already taking allergy meds, so I suspect this Spring might very well be the death of me, and really, I was hoping to just drown myself today around noon. 😦
Patient X was scheduled to undergo another procedure, but it has since been postponed indefinitely. Hopefully I will get to see him for Passover, if not sooner. I’m sending out prayers in advance to my best friend’s father, who is scheduled for heart surgery in a few weeks. Scary, scary shit. 😦
I am off to do wild and crazy things, like contemplate sleep (or watch the rest of The Originals, you’ll never know which! LOL.) and/or hunt down a cupcake.
Be good to one another. Until next time,
© 2016 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
Friday: The Dark Artifice
I woke up far too early this morning to a dark, grey day. Normally that wouldn’t bother me (it rarely does), but it’s the fact that the weekend is hanging over my head…the artifice of it darkening my mood.
Under normal circumstances the weekend is a dear friend I welcome with open arms, but it isn’t at the moment. The weekends are now Loki; the trickster. Instead of being able to enjoy them, because who doesn’t enjoy Tom Hiddleston (I would usually say it’s the accent, but the truth is, I find him charming as a human-being.), I am almost certain to contemplate purchasing rope, and not for Fifty Shades of Grey type activities. More’s the pity.
I miss Cat and Kitten. They are my constant companions, the only two ‘little people’ who’d notice if I went missing. I don’t get to spend any time with them. Last night, while in the process of feeding them, OGK came creeping up the stairs and refused to heed the warning Kitten gave him with her baby hiss. It was a non-threatening “Back off!” kind of hiss. If you hadn’t been standing in front of her, you wouldn’t have heard it. Instead of realizing he wasn’t welcome at the moment, he took it as a challenge, as he always does. Thankfully I blocked his little stampede and herded him down the stairs away to diffuse potential drama. I’d plugged the Feliway diffuser downstairs earlier on in the evening to try and help keep him calm (It already helped diffuse the tension the girls experienced from the move.) and maybe allow him to adapt, but so far, no dice. Next step: A baby gate. The girls can jump over it with ease, they have a lot of energy, especially the little one (who I am sad to say, is no longer little. She’s actually taller than all three cats. I often wonder if she’s part hybrid. I’ll never know unless her new vet mentions it.). So, I’ve come to the conclusion that once I clip their nails this weekend, I’m not going to baby OGK any more. It’s been nearly a full month and I can’t allow this to go on any longer. It’s stressing me out and making me sick. He needs to adjust. The Feliway diffuser will help, but there’s no way it will do anything if the girls remain behind closed doors 23 hours a day. I didn’t adopt them to keep them locked away. That’s no way for any animal to live. Perhaps next week, progress will be made. It’s exhausting, to say the least.
Sadly, I’m already exhausted enough. Between the migraines, smacking the back of my head into the wall this week (an accident on my part, as I am not used to being that close to a wall), and the bitter cold causing my body to go into varying degrees of Fibro flares, I’m not very pleasant to be around. That’s okay though because there’s no one here to listen to what I have to say. My life could easily be a reality show: “Three Cats & A Kitchen Knife”. Because unless I am caring for them, writing, or in absolute agony, I am probably chopping vegetables and making something. My cousin thinks I should become a “celebrity chef”. I disagree. The thought of making tasteless food for egos the size of Russia is not something I could ever become accustomed to, unless it came with a seven-figure salary. I bristle when someone says “Don’t put any salt into that.” I am a traditionalist. The only salt you will see me use is kosher salt or sea salt. I don’t buy anything else and I will not use anything else in the cooking process. I’ll be damned if I put something tasteless on the table for anyone. It’s an immense pet peeve of mine.
This past week I learned that there are a few words I NEVER want to see on an item I spent nearly $5 on and that is: Hearty Minestrone Soup: VEGAN. My percentage of Italian blood boiled, wondering what psycho came up with that idea. Trader Joe’s, you’re damn lucky it didn’t taste like crap or I would have gone after one of your cheerful employees this weekend upon returning. Of course now, I don’t trust them and will be obsessively reading labels in the store, thus adding a good hour to my grocery shopping time from here on in. I will keep the vegan concept in mind for my few vegan obsessed friends, but in the future I want all of my groceries to be marked “We didn’t screw with it, Lisa!” That’s right, I want a special section with my name on it for things I buy weekly. Thus far, only Polar Seltzer has received the memo. Kudos to the Vanilla Pear. 🙂 The only holiday flavor I was able to find was Blackberry Apple and it was good, but it wasn’t stellar. C’est la vie.
I am torn between desperately wanting a nap and trying to organize a few things for the weekend. Oh screw it! I’ve already done 95% of what’s on the list, I’m allowed a two hour migraine-induced nap.
As I attempt to recover in order to embark on my Loki-filled weekend, I wish everyone a weekend full of happiness and productivity. Here’s hoping no one has to hear about me on the news. I can’t promise I’ll behave or be very nice though. In fact, I might take up hissing myself. I already hiss at the next door neighbor’s dog because she viciously barks at me. Now while she does bark at everyone, she liked Patient X just fine as soon as he tossed her a few Milk Bones. I refuse to succumb to her pleading for treats. I may be a trained human for cats, but uncivilized dogs can kiss my ass!
copyright © 2016 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
P.S. My eye is better.
Pull The Covers Up And Leave Me Alone
I’m a pretty dark person. I have a wicked sense of humor and I’ll say anything goofy to make someone laugh, but when it’s my life, there isn’t a lot I perceive as humorous. I’m not the kind of person who laughs at someone else’s pain or who enjoys hearing about someone’s breakups, divorces, illnesses, a death, etc. Laughing at other people’s pain is evil, in my eyes. When someone mentioned losing their Mom last week, I sat on my couch and cried. I’d already endured a rough week and hearing the words “My Mom passed away, but she’s at peace.” made me ill. I felt SO bad for this person. I was relieved that they had support from a spouse, friends, and family. That made me feel better for them, despite the fact that losing a parent at any age is one of the worst things one can go through. I should know; I’ve already lost both of mine. I’d give a lot to have even just one of them back. I spend every day of my life feeling like an absolute orphan.
I am good at listening to others and giving exceptional advice, but I’m not very good at listening to myself in an advisory capacity. The last thing I want to hear is the sound of my own voice. I spend a lot of time trying to shut the inside of my head up. I don’t do drugs, so that means I pull the covers around me (usually because I’m cold) and close my eyes. After a few minutes, kitten comes to check on me and she’ll cuddle in, which always makes me feel cared for. She’ll look at me with such loving green eyes and I know that she is conveying her concern for me. “Why are you sad, Mama? Don’t worry, I’ll stay with you. ” And she doesn’t leave my side until I leave the room. She is the epitome of loyal, and it is gratifying to see so much love from such a little person.
Cat also checks on me. These last few weeks she has been very observant of my unhappiness and has spent a lot of time watching me, cuddling with me, sitting on my lap at times, and looking for me. If I leave a room, she’ll trot after me to make sure I’m okay. She stares at me with her deeply knowing little face. I can almost hear her thinking “Mommy’s not okay. I always hear her say ‘I’m not okay.’, why doesn’t anyone listen to her?” I don’t know.
I’ve been so miserable that I’ve struggled emotionally in deep, dark places. Very few people have noticed and even fewer have shown me that they care. That’s okay, because it only proves what I already know; Most people live on their own fucking planet and aren’t aware that other people exist. Good for them, but please, stay the hell out of my lane or I will mow you down for shits and giggles. I have absolutely no tolerance for anyone who has their head that far up their own ass, though I am slightly impressed with their ability to physically aim so high. Since their heads never come out, there is no need to stock up on Listerine for the “great hose down of 2015”. I’ve decided to ignore assholes, douchebags, and vicious souls for the foreseeable future. I don’t care who the person is any more, I don’t need the stupidity and heartlessness.
Oftentimes people forget that all forms of depression can strike them down at any given moment. They can be the happiest person in the happiest place, and suddenly feel as though there are no words for their internal pain. Lying about it, pretending it does not exist, and blowing off the pain of others to make yourself seem stronger doesn’t make you better, it makes you afraid of being stigmatized. It’s 2015. Get the antiquated thinking out of your head and stop being an asshole to yourself, and others. It takes strength to treat a chemical imbalance. It takes strength to talk about it. You should be ashamed if you’re lying about it and hiding it. You should be even more ashamed if you’ve hurt friends that suffer because you can’t handle the fact that they’re stronger than you are. Yelling at someone who is suffering is not helpful. Screaming at them is even less helpful. You either want to help someone because you genuinely love and care about them or you scream because you lack proper communication skills.
I will yell when I’m frustrated, I will tell someone to back off or leave me alone when I am frustrated and need space, but the only person I abuse is myself.
I never know with any certainty if I will emerge from these dark places. Medication isn’t an option for me. I wait for new drugs to be released every few years to see if something new will be the answer. And by new, I mean NEW, I do not mean reformulated with a new name, which is what most pharmaceutical companies do when a major money-making drug is about to go generic. They will re-release it under a new name, having slightly tweaked it. If you’re not proactive in researching these drugs, you will spend years taking the same fucking crap, experiencing the same horrible side effects, wondering why you never feel better.
I am the exception, not the rule. Many people do find medication that works after some trial and error, even if only for short periods of time. I am chemically sensitive and I have been written off as “treatment-resistant”, which means that my brain doesn’t respond to all sorts of crazy chemical cocktails. No drug has ever worked for me on a long-term basis. Every time I “go dark”, it is up to me, and me alone, to try to pull myself out of the deep, dark hole before things get worse. I’m really tired of everyone’s opinions in regard to that. When you’re hurting, you want to be understood. You don’t want to hear hypocrisy or “That’s a permanent solution to a temporary problem.” Um, NO. I will have this for the rest of my life. That my friends, is fucking permanent.
I will never be a perfect, blooming flower for anyone. I wish people understood that depression does not diminish who I am, it does not detract from what I bring to the table. It does not make me less talented, less intelligent, or less anything. If anything, it makes me the more interesting person in the room with a little more vibrancy at times because I hold a lot back daily. I don’t shine all of the time, but when I do, I highly suggest wearing sunglasses.
Here’s hoping I will soon shine again.
copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
Unhappiness Comes From…
“Unhappiness comes from living the life of two people–the one people want you to be and the one you want to be.”
―Shannon L. Alder
Tuesday Blues
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.
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. 🙂
copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
I’m Not…
“I’m not unhappy,” he said. “Only people with no purpose are unhappy. I’ve got a purpose.” ―Cassandra Clare
Silver Linings
At this particular point in time, I am having difficulties seeing the silver linings. Life has its ups and downs. Sometimes it’s good and sometimes it sucks. We’ve all experienced this. I’m not quite certain what to do when it’s predominantly sucky.
I work hard, but there is always a problem that arises and it’s always something I have to fix. It makes almost all aspects of life, outside of a handful of things, completely miserable, moving straight into unbearable. When does it end? 😦
At a severe low point, I called a suicide prevention hotline. I feel absolutely no shame in admitting that. I do, however, feel incredible outrage by how I was treated by this hotline that will willingly accept my donations, and yours, but refused to so much as help me when I wasn’t very far away from my personal ledge.
The person who took my call was already on the phone with someone “in a more severe crisis”. I have no idea how she knew this other person was in a more severe situation than I was because the first thing she did was put me on hold for about 30 minutes. Let me reiterate that she never even bothered to ask me if I was all right and in a safe place before she did that. She finally comes back on the line and says that the other call is more important and I should try calling back later. She didn’t ask where my head space was, NOTHING. She spewed the call back later crap and hung up. Even if you’re short-handed, even if you’re a volunteer, that isn’t the way to treat anyone who is calling a suicide prevention line. Clearly, they’re not calling for shits and giggles, it takes courage to make that call. I hung up with my jaw wide open, feeling even more betrayed by the world. It was a gut punch. “Wow! Even the suicide prevention hotline can’t prioritize me for half a second before hanging up!” If I wanted to be treated that way, I have family for that.
Earlier this year a now former friend asked me via text message if I “needed professional help”. Instead of understanding that I was in a bad place and needed support, she ended up blowing me off and later “broke up” with me via e-mail. I thought we’d be friends a very long time, so I was understandably blown away by the dramatic behavior and inability to show compassion to another human-being. I will never name names, but I am also at that point where forgiveness is not an option. You only get one chance with me. (Other things did occur towards the end, but I will never discuss any of that because it’s private. If the other person chooses to say something, they would be wrong.)
Telling me you’re worried about me via text message doesn’t convey care or concern. It’s just words. Picking up the fucking phone and saying “I know you’re not okay. I’m here for you.” is a better way to let anyone know that you’re truly there for them.
One of the biggest issues with cell phones and tablets is that no one talks to each other or communicates properly. The other day a woman took a call in front of me from her mother. Her mother wanted to argue and she said “Lets discuss this in person. There is no need to have this conversation over the phone. I will see you in a few hours.” She repeated the same statement several times because apparently she was dealing with a stubborn parent. When she hung up she said she HATED how people misconstrue things via text, e-mail, and sometimes even over the phone. She was totally on my level, saying how she’d rather be face-to-face with certain people because that way, there’s no misunderstanding whatsoever. It was incredibly refreshing.
I cannot speak for everyone, but I can speak for myself. If I sense that someone is going through a rough time, whether they voice it or not, they don’t have to ask me to be a good friend or family member, because I do not lack common sense. I am not the world’s most compassionate soul (I openly admit that.), and I will never win awards for my niceness (The niceness gene died at age 12.), but I am emotionally present. That’s more than I can say for a great many people in my life and those I’ve chosen to get rid of.
If you love your friends, you fight for them. Their well-being is important to you and you don’t need to be insulting in order to get your point across. The same is true for family. I come from a very large extended family, but at the end of the day, they are almost exclusively people I happen to be related to (Who are banned from future book signings and appearances. LOL.). They’re not my everyday “I’ve got your back”, “Don’t worry about it.”, “No problem, I’ll help you.” family. There’s an immense difference. I have friends and family I’d do anything for, but with the rest… I’d break out the marshmallows if they were on fire.
Ultimately, not everyone you know is a good person down to roots of their soul. If you find those that are good, don’t let them go over petty idiocy. Learn how to say “I’m sorry” when you’re wrong or when you’ve hurt someone. Learn how to admit you don’t know it all. Be yourself, be real, GROW.
Tomorrow is not guaranteed for any of us. So, I employ a “live and let live” policy. If you’re good to me, I will appreciate that and I will say so. If you’re a piece of shit to me, eventually I will make sure you know what I think of you. Or I won’t be so bothered as to waste the oxygen, that all depends on my mood.
If you’re a part of my life, I am grateful to have you in it. I keep my circle of friends close because of the value I place upon the element of friendship. I don’t trust anyone who doesn’t have true friends, and I really don’t trust women who don’t have at least 1-3 close female friends. It’s a red flag. Kind of like a man at a bar that still has a tan line where his wedding band should be, but tells you he’s single or how horrible his “soon-to-be” ex-wife is. Unless you see divorce papers, he’s full of crap and is a married man who hasn’t stopped dating.
I’m eternally appreciative that I am one of those rare people who truly doesn’t care if people like me or not. I spend no time at all wondering what others think of me as a person. Those that take the time to get to know me on a deeper level are the ones that benefit from my fierce loyalty and “ride or die” friendship. Those that burn me clearly don’t know that, like the Phoenix, I will always rise again.
copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
This Is How I Know It’s Wednesday
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.
copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
Written by LISA MARINO-Molchanova 