Nec Spe, Nec Metu, Teneo
No Hope, No Fear, Endure
You may be wondering, oh my many followers, where on earth I have vanished to? The truth is nothing romantic; my building offered free wi-fi an the neighbor I, ahem, *shared* a connection with must’ve cancelled his Internet, as I can no longer use his password. I would’ve paid for my own Internet subscription, but for two factors: 1) I will only be here a month and the building’s monthly rate + the one-time hook up fee was quite a large waste of money and, more importantly, 2) the building wife is SLOW AS FUCK. So, I get one precious free hour of wifi per day which is just barely enough to check my gmail, Facebook, and Twitter accounts, but certainly not long enough for long-winded Tumblr feeds. I move at the beginning of the New Year, so you can expect much more from me then. And when i say much more, I mean MUCH MORE. You see, I’m moving back in with my parents, to a town where old High School friends will be comprise my social life, so I will cling to the Internet in a grasp so tight a boa constrictor will be jealous. Expect plenty of long, meandering, half-suicidal rants that will both amuse and horrify you. J/K. I hope.
I had to wrap my own mind around moving back in with my parents, as I base much of my pride and self-worth over my independent nature and self-reliance. However, it’s just been a hellishly hard year for me with my sobriety, my fibromyalgia, and my divorce. I had been pondering this move for a long time, but at Thanksgiving, it made me feel so loved and flat-out relieved when my mom said, simply, “Sit down, let me do this for you.” Having someone care for me after years of caring for others and then a year of struggling to care for myself made me want to weep with pleasure. The sad fact is, there are weeks where I can’t cook or grocery shop, as there is absolutely NO energy left after the work day (if I can make it work at all) and I lay in bed and cry because, as good as my friends are, they aren’t family and only family can I ask such favors of time and time again.
So, soon I move for the 3rd time in 12 months. Now that my decision is made, I look forward to it. I see the next 12 months as being a time to learn how to manage my health conditions, to get my divorce finalized and my heart reasonably mended, to get my credit card debt paid off (two “firsts” for me: running significant credit card debt and my first overdraft of a bank account- whee!) and some money saved up for the next move, to sell my two houses- one which I will make little profit on (the lovely house my ex inhabits) and the rental which will be all profit, but is nearly unsellable, being a poorly maintained 1890 rental.
I would love to maintain any links I can- if you have a blog you would like me to follow, just let me know. As of the 2nd week of January, I will be in a part-time work schedule (30 hrs/week) and desperate for things to keep me busy. Til then, kisses and hugs from the rainy oasis!
A brief note and a promise of longer update when I can get to some wifi with the laptop- am pecking this out on my beloved iPhone. Today I spent almost 3 hours at the hospital with an IV of lidocaine drip drip dripping in my vein. I was only at about a level 4 pain to begin with, but it dropped to pain free. If this treatment works, it could last a few hours… or up to 3 weeks. I ask you all to please give a shout-out to whomever it is you believe handles such things and to please ask for as long as possible. A treatment that works? A relatively pain-free reprieve? I dare to hope.
Today is your big moment. Moments, really. The life you’ve been waiting for is happening all around you. The scene unfolding right outside your window is worth more than the most beautiful painting, and the crackers and peanut butter that you’re having for lunch on the coffee table are as profound, in their own way, as the Last Supper. This is it. T his is life in all its glory, swirling and unfolding around us, disguised as pedantic, pedestrian non-events. But pull off the mask and you will find your life, waiting to be made, chosen, woven, crafted
Wait, what? Another pain-free day, you say? Admittedly, now that the evening is wearing on, I can feel that old enemy, Pain, gathering back in my shoulders and upper arms, but for most of today I got another reprieve from FM hell. The sun was shining, I got treated to a delicious sushi lunch by a handsome and intelligent friend, who always nurtures me, even when I’m cranky and dismal, but who was especially happy to see me smile once again today.
I said a few words to my Higher Power, who I am struggling to name for myself. “God” is too fraught with assumptions. “Higher Power” sounds too clinical. Sadly, my top options at the moment are the hippie-ish “Gaia” as I feel any Omnipotent Being must surely be connected with the earth and all species, not just human, or the ultra-geeky “Powers that Be (PTB)” from, um, the sitcom Angel. Anyone have suggestions on this tricky naming issue? Whatever He/She/It is called, I have been attempting to pray, although I am not sure how, other than looking skyward and speaking from my heart. Today and this weekend it was all about giving thanks. Other days it is often to ask for courage and acceptance.
I have been having second thoughts about scheduling with the Addictionologist that the Pain Center insists I see in order to be treated by them ever again. I had an appointment with my psychiatrist today and despite my sunny mood, surprised myself with the outpouring of tears and undiluted grief around the upcoming assessment. I mean, I really lost it- the kind of crying you feel you will never be able to stem once the dam has sprung a leak. My psychiatrist has a very matter-of-fact attitude, though, and we explored that the crux of the issue is that I am very much afraid of the new Dr. judging me. But really, I’m more judging myself. Oh, surprise, surprise- me being harder on myself than anyone in the world would ever be to me? Spinning out the catastrophic scenarios in which, somehow, I end up homeless and on the street (in a van… down by the river!) Ah, me.
Anyway, it was a cathartic cry and my psychiatrist and I agreed that I should take the time to write down the ways that I am dealing with my addictive personality, the ways I am making progress. Because I am making progress. I honestly feel I’ve turned a corner where the cocaine is concerned. My health is honestly and truly my top priority. I can’t get help if I slip up and I just don’t think the temptation would make the decision hard right now. Maybe in the future, when I am feeling better and I end up in a situation where I’m around it, I will feel the pull again. But as for right now, I don’t even think it sounds fun. I never really had a reason to stop before- I had the money, the time, and the hedonistic personality to always say yes. Now, I have the biggest reason of all to say no. Being Well!
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