Anyone Can See That This Is Only Permanent Temporary

Today: "Barriers and obstacles await you this weekend. Some may be physical. Roads you can’t travel down. Rooms you can’t enter. Others could be emotional. People who don’t want to listen to what you have to say. Situations from which you feel excluded. When you encounter such circumstances, you may feel hurt, angry or just eager to find a way forward. The more you push, the more you’ll meet resistance. Shrug your shoulders, accept and look for other options. Then wait. Time will get you where determination, currently, can’t. …want to know what’s really going on?"
 
Tomorrow: "Some people love to explain how magicians perform their tricks. ‘Look,’ they say, ‘It’s all sleight of hand. Watch carefully as they move their arm and you’ll see a hidden pocket.’ In this way, such folk confirm their own status as know-alls and simultaneously sap the sense of wonder from the world. Some illusions, though, are even more impressive once you know how they are done. Two of the most magical things in this world are, after all, natural beauty and human ingenuity. What matters, this week, is not the justification or the analysis. It’s the experience and the joy that, if you open up a little, you should be all but overwhelmed by."
 
I haven’t been updating much lately. For awhile, I felt obligated to, but I think I’m discovering that to be a personality flaw. I put a lot of pressure on myself to be or do certain things, and then when I can’t always follow through I cut myself down even further for failing to meet expectations that are unreasonable, unrealistic and never really mine. It’s a learning curve, but in the last two months, depite the way things in my life are, I’m learning to be more accepting of who I am. I’m at my ideal body weight again- and honestly when I thought that I was overweight, I was only 10 pounds or so heavier than I was supposed to be. I haven’t weighed more than that in more than two years. It’s something I am proud of- there is at least a consistency at which I maintain myself. However, the recession and increasing poverty here have forced some hard decisions that have begun to seriously change the condition of my health. I’ve become quite sick in comparison to the last year, and I’m back on a track to change that for the better. I finally jumped to a team of physicians here on the island and broke from my medical support on the mainland, and have reregistered with the Diabetes Association Clinic, which is available to help me explore my options. They may be able to advocate for me where I have personally failed (despite my many attempts) to utilize things that are supposed to be available to people in my situation.
 
Two weeks ago I left John’s and moved back in with my Mom- not because of any fault of his. Chris and I have come to a point where we fail to see eye-to-eye about things. He is only just reaching his financial rough spot and is so anxious about it that he’s become willing to screw anyone over in order to get back on top. Unfortunately that began to include me. When I can’t feel comfortable, safe or welcome in my own home, it’s time to re-evaulate why it’s my home. He actually physically attacked my Mother for voicing her opinion about things- grabbed her by her shirt and tried to throw her out. It came so suddenly that it scared and shocked us all. It took all of my restraint not to hit him. I can guarantee if I had he would have seriously been at risk of becoming sterile. I have never experienced a protective rage quite like that. The only reason I didn’t jump into the fray to save her was the fear of escalation.  Chris is generally a gentle-spirited person. It is a rare day to even see him get more than slightly irritated, let alone violent. He simply snapped, and his excuse for it was completely worthless. He’s a control-freak who has to get his way every time. He makes people dance around what he wants and supposedly needs without consideration that his boundaries are so enormous and excessive that they actually infringe upon everyone elses. I made a split-second decision, at my Mom’s request, to move out- and it has turned out to be to my benefit each and every day. Being here and back in my own space has pulled me out of my depressed funk and given my back my drive and focus (for the most part). I’ve been so busy walking on eggshells and focusing on making everyone else happy that I forgot to take care of myself- and that can never ever be the answer.
 
Steve was like that- putting me last and ignoring my needs for the sake of his extremely inflated head; and that nearly cost me my life. Why do I pander to others so much? Why do Iose my focus and direction? There are people who have been right about me in that regard- even recently. But you know, those people have put as much pressure on me in other ways without even realizing it. Fortunately I’ve been able to really rebel against the constraints of most of those expectations (when they’ve been unreasonable) and got back to listening to myself. I am really self-aware, and that took a long, long time to perfect. If my hair isn’t brushed or my room isn’t spotless, or I have been too busy getting things done to run errands for other people, they can wait and they can fucking deal with it. I haven’t been 12 in 12 years and I seriously don’t need people trying to babysit me in that capacity. I appreciate the care and attention that I get when I need it- I see that more as support, and I know I’m supposed to get that- I even truly appreciate it, even when it annoys me; But I am not a child.
 
I have enough shit on my plate and limited and ebbing resources with which to deal with it. There’s the situation with Deanne (though it has recently become a lot less stressful due to our promptness with exploring and utilizing our options for the sake of protecting ourselves), dealing with the planning of the wedding (and yes, in recent months as things have been taken care of, that too is easier), the situation with Chris (which is the greater deal of my stress), not being able to find work yet (the majority of my stress), and my declining health. And to top off that list, my Grandfather, one of the most important men in my life, is undergoing Chemotherapy for Type B Cancer and can’t come to my wedding. My whole life I could never have imagined that day without him. Thankfully, unselfishly, though, I would pass up his presence that day to keep him alive without complaint. And here I was hoping this year would be easier. Oh well, at least John and I are getting along and working together like ships on fire.
 
I had to do a battery of tests today- which meant fasting for 10 hours. I became hypoglyciemic in my sleep and went into shock at the lab. They stuck a butterfly needle into my hand and my blood pressure was so low that even though they got the vein there was no blood coming from it. They tapped my other arm when I was conscious and I nearly passed out again. They got just over 1 vial out of 7, which luckily turned out to be enough anyway. I felt like such a loser. They forced me to stop giving them blood, even though I was trying to drive through it, and made me go get something to eat. I’m feeling a lot better now. I actually did go back to finish like they asked, but they told me they didn’t need it after all. As it turns out, for the past few months my diabetes may have somewhat improved (despite the stress) because they think my recent lo blood-pressure and high heartrate are attributed to too much insulin and low electrolytes. I suffer regular and extreme dehydration (despite having kicked caffeine almost a month ago) and have to drink this sick electrolyte mix every other day to keep my potassium levels up enough, in addition to consuming 4-6L of water a day. Ugh. I hate being the sick one. Being healthy costs so much money and requires constantly being a pincushion.
 
Mom and I got a new dog. She’s only 7 weeks old, so she requires a lot of present care. She isn’t socially as prepared or learned as most independent pets are- she was weaned and separated from her Mom a bit too early. Mom is a bit harsh for my taste- but she swears that’s how you train a dog. I’m not sure I agree that scaring the piss out of a 6-7 week old animal is effective, even if it hasn’t 100% learned to recognize when it needs to relieve itself, or where. She’s picking it up slowly. Honestly, if we’d got her at the proper age, at 8 weeks it would be okay to start training her. She’s ill-prepared for this much expectation and too little to understand being punished this much. Mom makes up for it by cuddling her a lot when she does learn and comforting her when she gets scared,  but as much as Mom spoils her when she’s good, she’s awesome at really punsihing the poor thing when she isn’t so good. I love her though, Leeloo (the dog) is our sweetie. She’s a Mal-Shi (but only 0.25% Maltese- she’s mostly Shihtsu). The best thing? She isn’t a yappy dog. She whines when she has to go really badly, or is starving or lonely, but she never barks and she only growls when she is playing. She’s only irritating when she’s being too needy. But she’s just a baby.
 
K.M.
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~ by Kд§$ị (ИovΔ) on 02/19/2010.

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