New beginnings

Been a while since I’ve updated…Again.

Lots of changes have been going on.

I went through a bit of a scare, having massive pain in my left chest wall. Several tests later and the best the doctors can come up with is severe damage to the chest wall, mainly due to the infection. It’s probably a large part of the reason I’m still having such issues with my arm. The arm is better, but only about 70% over all. I’m ending my physical therapy as there isn’t much I can do there that I can’t do on my own and beginning of the year, the insurance resets. Still trying to pay off the medical bills for this year (Finally got last year paid off) and I don’t want to go into this year adding thousands more to it. I’ll work my arm myself and hope that someday I’ll get a little bit more of it back.

I’m still not working, still taking some time to deal with things. The holidays are far rougher this year and I miss mom and dad every day. My son also just lost his great grandmother, who had moved into the same facility my parents had been at. 

For those who don’t know Quantico, he’s my cat.  I found him as a little tiny baby living in my in-laws garage. He’s diabetic and in October we celebrated his 17^th birthday. He’s getting old. He’s losing weight. His face just looks tired. He is also well past his life expectancy. I don’t think I have much time left with him either. I’m hoping he will hold out for a little bit longer. 

The so called “friend” who lived with us has moved out, which is for the best. When we told her we were going to have to raise her rent a little bit (to $400 a month which included all utilities) she decided we were too mean to her and moved out, with virtually no notice. One thing is for sure, I have learned my lesson.  The first time she lived with me she left me with a $700 phone bill.  The second time we had to rip out the rug from her room and put in a new floor AND spent hundreds of dollars trying to get the dog pee smell out of the concrete flooring in the basement. This time, we have to repaint the bathroom (painted immediately before she moved in FOR her) because she splattered hair dye all over it. We also need to replace the toilet seat for the same reason and had to deal with a nasty mold problem because apparently she didn’t clean the vast majority of her bathroom for a year and a half.  Every time I have helped her out, giving her a place to live with extremely affordable rent, she has screwed me over. 

I should have asked her to leave a long time ago, but frankly, one thing I have realized lately is most of 2015 and almost half of 2016 is a complete blur to me. There are some things I have a very vague memory of, some things I have virtually no memory of, and some of the things I do remember, I would like to think that if I hadn’t have been ill, I never would have tolerated them, though many of the things were actually related to my illness as well. These memory gaps are due to all the meds I was on including potent antibiotic and a whole lot of pain meds.

A while ago, the former husband of this ex-friend lived with us. When he was here he always paid his rent on time, he also helped out with utilities besides the rent he paid, he helped out with food and cooking and yardwork. He was a part of the family, he associated with us. We had the totally opposite experience with her. To the point where we barely even used our own downstairs living room because she was so into being separate from us. Silly, stupid things like we would be watching a show upstairs, and completely oblivious to the extra electricity being used, she would watch the exact same show downstairs at the same time. But hey, the electric bill wasn’t in her name, so what did she care. Now that she’s gone, our November electric bill was $70 LESS than what it had been in 2015.  

I can now do laundry when I want to, and not have to wait hours, or be woke up at 5 in the morning on a weekend because someone decided that’s when they suddenly had to do theirs. The inconsiderate nature has always been there, and I kept putting up with it.

When I planned my surgeries, I was told she would be there at the hospital, but then a few days before she would always change her mind. She did absolutely NOTHING to be helpful. No rides to doctor appointments, no running errands, no helping out around the house, nothing. She never once even offered. Though I had plenty of other people, some I barely knew, gladly offer to do those things. She constantly referred to someone else (someone who hasn’t talked to her in years) as her best friend, and then got offended when I actually did find someone who knew how to be a best friend. Someone who did come to be with me when I had a surgery, even though he had to take off work and fly 1500 miles each way to do it.  Someone who checked in on me every single day.  This “boarder” lived in my house and days, sometimes weeks would go by without a single word from her.

When her mother had passed away, I was the one who helped her pack up her mother’s apartment. I was the one who helped make boards for the memorial service, I was the one who sat by her and held her hand during the funeral.

When my father was dying in the hospital, I asked her if she was going to come, she said only if I thought it would make him die faster. When mom died, she was no where to be seen to help pack things up. (Thankfully I do have wonderful friends that were there to help.) She did show at mom’s funeral, but didn’t stay for the whole thing, and of course didn’t sit anywhere near me. She was simply NEVER there for me the way I had been there for her. 

So yes, I’m far better off without this in my life, but I need to get over being angry at myself for ever putting up with it in the first place. I never deserved to be treated so poorly by her, and yet I put up with it. This same person has lived 8 places in the past 10 years, most of them in someone’s basement and all but one person (her grandmother) had the same experiences with her.  I’m glad she’s out of our lives and I know that there is no way in hell I will ever allow her back in again.  Writing about it helps get it out. Besides, if you don’t want people to talk about the way you treat them like shit, here’s an idea, don’t treat people like shit. It’s that simple. If you want people to say you are a kind, compassionate, helpful person – BE one. That’s all there is to it.

I had a productive NANOWRIMO. I completed my goal and almost completed my project. Taking a little time off that to get ready for the holidays but plan on finishing it soon and finish off a proposal I’ve been working on as well. Will be putting a lot more time into writing once the new year starts and things are more back to normal around here. 

I’m working on some big plans for the new year, so here’s to hoping things stay calm for a while, so I can work on them! Also planning some fun events and outings. Really looking forward to a "normal" life again.

Two Weeks Notice

Today was a difficult day. It was the day I put my 2 weeks notice in at work. 

For those of you who read my last blog, it may not have come as much as a surprise. 

 

I know they say that you shouldn’t make important decisions after a crisis, but it’s because of the crisis that I made the decision. 

Two years ago, I lost myself, some may argue that it was even longer ago than that, but it’s time I find myself again and that isn’t going to happen until I go looking.

I’m not entirely sure what I am going to do, but to start I’m going to take some time for me. I’m going to get through my stacks of books to read. I’m going to get the writing assignment I have, done. I’m going to finish some writing projects I started but haven’t finished yet. I’m going to work on doing more yoga. I’m going to work on meditating.  And eventually I’m going to get around to figuring out what I want to do with the rest of my life.

What you see

This is what you see.

You see someone who gets out of bed each day, showers, gets dressed and heads out the door for work.

You see someone who assists customers with a smile and helps to make other people’s day more complete. Someone who makes their lives better.

You see someone who goes home at the end of the day, whether from work, or errands, and sometimes watches TV, sometimes spends time with her family. Sometimes while she watches TV she works on knitting scarves and hats for people who utilize the local homeless shelter. Occasionally, you may even see her out walking around town playing Pokeman Go.  On Wednesdays, she tries to go to yoga. 

You see someone who likes to spend time at the lake, out on the boat. Sometimes you see her at the drive in for a double feature and a hot dog smothered in nacho cheese.

At night, you see her crawl into bed and go to sleep.

This is what you see.

This is what you see, because it is what she lets you see.

This is what you don’t see.

What you don’t see when she crawls out of bed each morning is the pain in her face. The pain that is from arthritis, spondylitis, and fibromyalgia. The pain that makes her wonder if the doctors really got all of the cancer or if it has been festering away in her body somewhere, growing, slowly killing her without her knowledge, much less consent. The pain that eats away at her daily as she deals with the depression that has slowly seeped in over the past year and a half, and then the depression dump that came with the realization she was an orphan twice over. 

What you don’t see is that her showers have gotten longer. Not because the hot water temporarily relieves the pain and inflammation in the arm that is too afraid to work anymore, but because the water temporarily hides the tears streaming down her face.

What you don’t see is the swelling and inflammation and the glasses of water she has to quickly drink to flush her system thanks to kidney damage from the antibiotics she was on for 9 months. 

What you don’t see are the contortionist movements she has to make in order to put her bra on, something that used to be so simple and didn’t require a second thought. Something she wished she didn’t have to bother with, but knows the difference in size and height of her breasts frightens other people almost as much as it frightens her. Those moments when people see the real truth of the destruction her body endured – she sees.

What you don’t see is that she puts on twice as much makeup in the morning as she used to, because she has learned by the time she arrives at work, more than half of it will have been cried off.

What you don’t see is when she goes to work and the friendly coworker, the one who knows the ravages of cancer, the one who checked in on her weekly during her medical leave, asks how she is doing, and for a moment, she loses control and the tears flow again. 

What you don’t see is the place she used to love to go to, the place that made her feel safe, needed, appreciated, useful, has started to lose its luster. A changeover of coworkers and circumstances have brought about many changes, not all easy to deal with. At a time when she craves stability, she finds turmoil where she used to find solace. 

What you don’t see is when she gets into her car after work and gets ready to drive home, the tears start flowing again, not because she doesn’t want to go home, but because now it’s the only place she has to go. She doesn’t have to drive to the next county to care for her aging mother anymore, because there is no aging mother to care for anymore. 

What you don’t see is the guilt, the guilt she has from wanting that time for herself, to finding she has that time for herself. 

What you don't see is the loneliness she feels when she can't call her mother just to say hi or to tell her some piece of news.

What you don't see is the knife that stabs her in the heart when she sees her mom's picture in her "favorites" in her contact list on her phone.  

What you don’t see is that when she gets home, she doesn’t want to be the one to make dinner, not because it’s still too hard on her physically, but now because it’s too hard on her emotionally.

What you don’t see are the arguments she has with her best friend through text messages, arguments because she needs him here and he needs to not be there for other reasons. 

What you don’t see is that when she knits while watching TV, she does it to remind herself she has a roof over her head when many don’t. It’s not just for those in need, it’s to remind herself she should be thankful for what she has. Now when she knits, she also sees the pile of obituaries sitting close by in the stack of things to take care. She knows her mother would have wanted them sent out to family and  friends and yet each step she takes in placing her mother to rest feels like another step farther away from her.

What you don’t see when she goes to yoga is that she is forcing her body to work in ways it once was able to, but has somehow forgotten.

What you don’t see when she is walking around playing Pokemon Go is that she is hiding from reality for a little while. Pidgies and Rattatas have become a method of escape, not just ways to earn stardust and points.

What you don’t see when she goes to bed at night is the tears start in again, sometimes for hours on end, until she falls into a restless sleep.

What you don't see is the dreams she has when she finally does fall asleep. The dreams that relive those final moments she had with her mom, the dreams where she wishes she could change things, the dreams where she second guesses herself constantly, the dreams where everything that could go wrong - does.

What you don't see, is she wakes up again every morning and goes through the same thing all over again. 

This is what you don’t see.

This is what you don’t see, because, she doesn’t let you.