I am absolutely killing Pinky blog. 😆 It's been hilarious watching all that drop off. Au revoir.
I started a different kind of project, which will be explained later. In the meantime, I'm fine. 😊 Super busy, as always. Maybe I'll bullet point before I go.
Approved for physical therapy on left shoulder for impingement, which, if I'd known was taken so seriously, I'd have gotten on top of years ago. I've lived with crazy amounts of pain, this is hopefully the last big hurdle.
The difference between parm cheese and candy is mega amounts of salt. Don't parm yourself like it's candy. Heart got a little thumpy this week.
I can't believe how much TV we've managed to get caught up on again this last week, even came in late to a live tweet. Felt so goooood.
The back to back euphorias finally wore off and I'm sleeping through the nights again, yay! That was pretty wild.
Plan this month is stay on top of tree allergies. This is historically one of my really bad months, so I'm mostly hiding in my house. Might be pouring liquid zyrtec in my eyes. (Don't really do that, ok?)
I'm also craving spring veggies, so I'm all over salads this week. Can't seem to get enough radishes. Check it, they're full of vitamin C and other good stuffs. Radishes
So I've got evidence that Pinky blog is being mirror accounted in at least one other country, lol. 😂😁 Whatever floats your goat guys. I know curating isn't enough, right. Just slap copies up and go to town with it and stuff. Right now it's more important that some of my words just get spread anyway, so I'm not too bothered. It could all end with dirty nukes and grids going down and who knows, some of my Pinky wisdom might live on somewhere.
Meanwhile, two of us came home with broccoli this week and now I'm working on gastric stack overflow. Today's menu includes a cheesy rice pilaf full of mashed up broccoli, with a slight hint of onion. I use several kinds of cheese so it's super yum. If I had leftover bacon I'd throw that in, too. One time I did that and stirred bits of cream cheese in, that was heavenly.
I just did a thorough research on Edward Lear because The Owl and the Pussycat crossed my mind awhile ago. Of course, that'll never show up on a social media scoring system. Klout keeps insisting that I'm a Stephen King expert for some reason. Confession- I'm well read and I've never opened a single Stephen King book in my life and rarely watch related movies or television show episodes that he's somehow involved with. I've watched Under the Dome, but other than that, I very rarely stop to check out anything his name is on. A few friends of mine are die hard Stephen King fans, so I'm very well aware of his remarkable history. I did see Lawnmower Man but apparently all he gets credit for is the title, lol. And I guess this is odd because anyone who gets to know me eventually compares me to Stephen King for some reason. I'd like to turn that back to Edward Lear, but since I don't often share my prolific penchant for limerick (the majority wind up incredibly yet tastefully naughty for some reason, and I'd rather not become known for that), no one ever says I'm the next Edward Lear. That sort of makes me sad.
From Runcible-Wikipedia- "In Neal Stephenson's 1995 novel The Diamond Age, Runcible is a code name for the Young Lady's Illustrated Primer, an educational computer."
From The Diamond Age-Wikipedia- "Society in The Diamond Age is dominated by a number of phyles, also sometimes called tribes. Phyles are groups of people often distinguished by shared values, similar ethnic heritage, a common religion, or other cultural similarities. In the extremely globalized future depicted in the novel, these cultural divisions have largely supplanted the system of nation-states that divides the world today. Cities in The Diamond Age appear divided into sovereign enclaves affiliated or belonging to different phyles within a single metropolis. Most phyles depicted in the novel have a global scope of sovereignty, and maintain segregated enclaves in or near many cities throughout the world."
You might call that prophetic, since that is a bit depictive of what the U.N. has drawn up in their Agenda 21, but perhaps it's merely an idea that has been intended for a much longer amount of time than we think, since Agenda 21 was heavily discussed and officially drafted several years previously. It would appear a work of fiction materialized after an agenda arose, so one could suppose this particular fiction might be a function of intention. I often look up whether an author's idea came before some kind of official documentation of something. It's interesting how often fiction actually comes after fact and barely anyone notices. Another book by the same author titled Cryptonomicon carries in its description "With this extraordinary first volume in what promises to be an epoch-making masterpiece, Neal Stephenson hacks into the secret histories of nations and the private obsessions of men, decrypting with dazzling virtuosity the forces that shaped this century." Really? He published after Agenda 21 was drawn up. It's not that big a leap to carry that into fiction. Actually, he seems a bit obsessed with the same kind of conspiracy around Nazi code that many still do nowadays, but now we know more and it's not that cryptic once you stick a toe into the weird stuff. It's been all around us this whole time, but as long as our minds are trained onto fictionalized television, we continue to believe our lives and even the world are spectacularly mundane.
Interestingly, diamonds are the top commodity in Minecraft, one of the most popular digital games in the world where players learn to co-op and create sustainable lifestyles against a number of challenges. I hint of the cultural crossing over in my article Atlantis.
Anyway, my point comes back around to Stephen King possibly already writing what was put into his mind by others in the first place. The monarch cinched it for me. Whether King wrote the actual predictive programming or not is irreparably smeared for me now. He may not be a genius so much as just another person fast tracked into success by a group using him as a tool. He is well known for being a self confessed blackout writer, which some blame on trauma or alchohol, but is also explainable with programmed alters, like pop stars today are unabashedly revealing. Basically, he was the Lady Gaga of the book world long before 'dark' became mainstream.
So. Finally have a day off. I was supposed to get nearly the whole week off, which would have been fabulous after a snow week tossing schedules around like confetti, but Monday I got to see my dad and brother driving through town, Tuesday the fiber optic installation team came in to finalize the switchover and wound up having to replace a cable, so that took awhile, then yesterday we tore the house apart trying to catch a hamster and wound up deep cleaning the house, so naturally today I SLEPT. I've barely done a thing. And tomorrow is EMG testing to see if the nerve down my left leg into my foot has corrupted since last time they tested, and the rest of my day will be suckage. So yeah, today is my only day off in an otherwise supposedly 'empty' week. Totally wasting it.
these are actual cupcakes, click to go to facebook
My mind is so blank that it feels inside out, like I got the onion skin and carbon papers in backward on the typewriter. Those of you who don't have a clue, that's seriously how blank my mind is, it goes back to before you were born.
and this one clicks to pinterest
Ok, here we go. Yeah, just surfing at this point. Not even anything out for supper. I don't feel guilty.
click for a very cool page
I'm really glad I made that tic list this month, so I can see that I'm actually still getting a few things done. I wish I were getting more done today, but not badly enough to do anything about it. Sometimes you just gotta be worn out.
More major plan executing going on. Dropped off some stuff in a Convoy of Hope bin while I was out yesterday. Have some other stuff pulled together for Safe to Sleep. Good ways to clean out my house. Someone said "Sharing is caring" in chat convo on the game server the other night, cracked me up. It was unrelated, immediately put a Care Bears song in my head. It's all fake on server, but even there some people think it's all about accumulation and wealth. Just because you hand over your last digital loaf of bread to another player on their last half heart tic doesn't make the kindness any less real.
So far I've gotten more done in the last 2 1/2 days than I feel like I accomplished in the last 2 1/2 months, if you don't count regular cleaning, cooking, and running errands. Things I've been putting off are magically poofing into all the right places in the spacetime continuum, including phone calls and fixits. I ran into a little buried sack with brand new Christmas ornaments in it for Bunny's tree, never even noticed we lost it. We were so worn out long before Christmas even got here, it seems like folly now to have wasted that money.
And now I'm in lag, lol. Time to let my brain fall out and move like a snail again while I gather my little storm for the next plan execution surge.
I forgot to get the good pic again, but remembered to grab one coming back thru on my way home this time. The other side says Partridge Family. Also noticed this time it's for sale. Don't know if you can read that, maybe next week I'll get a better pic.
And I felt bad for not doing the neighbor's squash blossoms justice last week, so here's a better shot.
I have done my planning, my shopping, and yesterday initiated my original paleo / South Beach / Rosedale health plan combo diet. The only thing I purchased with Rosedale was the book (used, spent under $2), didn't buy anything else or take any supplements, and the rest I just studied online and did on my own.
Back around 2009 I had become desperate and bent my mind around putting together my own health care team. By 2011 I was cleaning off years of medications and lost 50 pounds in 4 months, but it took a lot of research on how diabetes actually works, how 'nutrition' is skewed into the wrong foods by big companies, how to survive without medications by actually paying attention to what I put into my own mouth. It's work paying attention and keeping track, but it's very easy with all the mandatory food labeling we have nowadays.
This is my public trail through healing.
pill phobia at its finest - coming out of the stupor of medication addictions, poor medication management, over prescribing
Diabetes and Steroid Meds - Surviving steroid treatment for other chronic illnesses and allergic reactions while maintaining control with diabetes
I've come a very long way since I wrote those articles. I've slipped off my own path a bit, regained a little weight, backslid into pain complications and medication problems, and now I'm very tired of 2017 dragging on like this. Time to get my control back.
Because I keep after continual physical therapies throughout the year, I am still not only maintaining function around my home, but keeping up with far more activity than I ever dreamed I could do. I still can't get on my knees at all without destroying them and have almost continual pain somewhere in my body during everything I do, including reclining and sitting, but it's manageable. However, I've lost my grip on that manageable part a few times this year, and I want it back. Part of losing that grip is because I'm slipping on my nutrition planning, and it doesn't take much for the diabetic headaches and slower healing and stomach problems and nerve pain to pop back in my door with a cheerful Howdy!
It's too easy to grab quick and starchy bites on the run because I have high energy young people in my house now. I must menu plan for MYSELF and stick to it. I work around food allergies, so I heavily depend on dairy for proteins, but some dairy has lactose and lately my glucose spiking is worse on lactose because of my new blood pressure pill. So, I bought an extra dozen eggs this week and boiled them up. One boiled egg a day will replace my second cup of coffee with creamer (canned milk).
I also bought bacon. Bacon gets a really bad rap when it's actually much better for you than cookies and cake and pie and spaghetti, especially when you're diabetic. It's easy to cook up a package of bacon and then keep it on hand in the fridge. When others grab a cupcake, I can grab a piece or two of bacon, and later I can use the bacon drippings to cook up a big load of pan roasted brussels sprouts, which are even more awesome with aged balsamic and grated parm.
Guys, I lost 50 pounds in 4 months one year without even trying just doing THAT and stopping when I reached 1500 calories. I could nibble all day and still dropped 5 bowling balls off. It never really hits home how much we carry around until you pick up a bowling ball and go wow, that was IN ME.
Anyway, I reached a point in 2011 where I felt like a skinny fat person, which was really fun for new clothes (got down to an 18), and I would really like to go past that now. I've been in size 20 jeans for awhile and if I'm going to be having difficulty with pain and possible falling (the klutz is becoming strong again), I'd like to be easier for others to help getting back up, knowhutImean? So I bought butter and bacon and eggs and cheese and brussels sprouts and broccoli and lettuce (I love lettuce wraps around chicken tenders!) and stuff like that, and let's see how the rest of the year goes.
I've been hovering just above 200 pounds for months, I wanna break through that. Can I do it? I've never lost weight on gabapentin before, plus I'm back on low dose xanax and still on daily zyrtec. In 2011 I was NOT on meds bossing my weight/water retention around, because I had spent 3 years cleaning off most of my meds and got into physical therapy. We'll see what happens. I do know that I gained weight this year on baclofen and higher doses of gabapentin, so the baclofen is gone and the gabapentin is back on very minimal pain control.
Executive decisions are in order. My new BP med definitely boosts glucose levels, and my morning fasting is now up to 106 instead of the 90s. I get a thumpy heartbeat now after coffee and I know it's the creamer, not the caffeine. Glucose strip testing confirmed I'm getting higher readings now after just coffee, and when my glucose hits 130-140 I get thumpy heartbeats on the way back down to 120, always, anything I eat, no caffeine. I've reconfirmed this many times. Once I'm back below 120, no more thumpy heartbeats. SO. Instead of my 2 large cups of coffee (I've needed rocket fuel for Bunny preschool mornings), it's time to go back to 2 small cups or 1 large cup. That will cut down on some of the lactose bumping my glucose up. (I don't use sweeteners at all in any form, it's just canned milk.)
My menu planning needs to tighten up some more, too. I've been allowing a few starches and sweets here and there, and it's evidently affecting my A1C if my fasting glucose is defaulting higher. If I want to feel well for the holidays, I need to stick to healthy fats and proteins. If I'm going to live well with this new BP med, I need to be smart with my nutrition choices.
Walked through the livingroom last night while @bonenado was flipping channels and caught about a minute of Young Sheldon. Secret from an #actuallyautistic- learning the rules behind breaking the rules was a biggie for me. While the show might've concentrated on the NT viewpoint all around him, what you might not have seen was anyone have a logical discussion with that kid on the rules behind allowing rule breaking (I didn't watch long enough to find out). I have a very sophisticated mental flow chart with many loop counters that I've constructed over many years dealing with this from autistic POV, and I've learned that the rules behind breaking rules is much more important than the structure set up for keeping rules in place. Honestly, I couldn't sit through the show. It was immediately very painful for me. I won't say any more about it, except that I grew up in an era of continual corporal punishment and belittlement. If Young Sheldon helps to change that, great. I just can't rally behind it personally without triggering.
Still not back on server yet, which I'm ok with for the time being. I'm needing to handle a few things around my house and stop putting a couple of other things off. I'm in the pre-holiday-still-funtioning part of fall and need to keep this focus I have before it's gone. Once I get back on server with the new concrete, I may be going some pink places.
I'd have set this to different music, like Craig Chaquico's Dreamcatcher. Both vids are about the same length, so mute the first one and play the second while the first one runs.
The Cassini Grand Finale was kind of like a TV series finale, wasn't it? Years with characters and a storyline, and then it's just over.
I wish Spaceman Spiff was a TV series...
So the really biggie this month was the flip off atenolol to metaprolol. Unless you're on long term meds, you probably don't realize this is a very sucky thing. Current and Resolved Drug Shortages and Discontinuations Reported to the FDA Fortunately for me, this slide over to another med actually made my life a little better, and a couple of long standing issues seem to be resolving. Atenolol is known for cold hands and feet and poor circulation, and may have exacerbated the nerve pain in one of my feet badly enough to making walking difficult. Three weeks on metaprolol seems to be relieving that issue. X-rays reconfirmed degenerative arthritis at L5S1, very common spot where nerve trunk compression causes all kinds of referred pain down the legs (hip joint and foot x-rays are fine), and since I've already been through all my physical therapy options, the best I can do is stay mobile and do the good nutrition, hydration, exercise, and sleep thing so my body will be in top shape to get through the possible shots and surgeries that come next as I get older and this possibly gets worse. It's vital that my foot be able to handle walking as long as possible, and my blood pressure pill change, of all things, seems to be helping that. Who'd a thunk.
The next really biggie this month was completing the 12 visit atlas-axis correction therapy with my chiropractor. X-ray confirmed old whiplash healed wonky and was right there on all the trigeminal and cranial neuralgia. I spent ten years working slowly up to this spot because the pain was so bad for so many years that I could no longer tolerate medications and couldn't handle conventional therapeutic hands on. Short story, I still have issues because all that scar tissue is still healing, BUT getting through focusing on this one spot for a month definitely made this year's stalled out feeling go away. My neck glide from side to side is improved (I couldn't even turn my head left 5 years ago) and I've gained in my control over pain flares. My jaw pain is nearly gone at the moment, and the pressure at the base of my skull that kamikaze'd me through two med fails this year has eased off, thank goodness.
Overall big picture, I'm still saying I'm running to keep up. This wasn't even possible 5 years ago. This year I am keeping up with a real time 3-way schedule- @bonenado's work hours, Bunny's school hours, and her mama's work hours, and I'm able to keep my balance and actually help them keep theirs. I am able to consistently be a positive function with the meals and clean up around here while they do what they need to do to keep everything going, and I'm enjoying my family. That's the really important thing. Just 5 months ago I was having a difficult time with that part because pain and meds.
We'll see how the holiday slide goes this year. This is the time of year I get all my holiday stuff lined up because by the end of October I'm usually so aspienado shutdown that I can't function, so I duck into a hole and let it all gloss over me while I look at the pretty lights. Got my chicken stock (recipe with pix if you want to try it) done up yesterday for the freezer, so the Thanksgiving prep has begun.
Mock if you must, but I love live drafting with @bonenado. It's hilarious and I do stuff just to fall over laughing while he pulls his hair out. My report card this year is rock bottom of the entire league.
I'll share my fave lines from the report.
With Some Early Gambles, 790 Should Call Chip Kelly for Trade Advice Draft Summary Despite selecting in the top half of the first round (sixth overall), 790 might as well have been blindly heaving darts at the draft board to decide their picks... 790 should look into the joys of scrapbooking, or bird-watching, or just anything that isn't fantasy football.
Meanwhile-
Yeah, not a clue. These are all new visitors coming in. That blog was 3 years old last month, has only 90 published posts, and only 4 this year.
Labor Day grillfest this year is ramping up. Twink has been on a Daniel fast for the last 3 weeks and is ready for some MEAT. Sunday we'll be firing up the grill and loading it with filet mignon, BBQ chicken and pork, and possibly shrimp. I figure may as well get it all cooked up and then not have to cook for a few days.
Bunny's arm cast came off yesterday and ceremoniously went into the trash. Nothing like starting school in a cast.
Between Scott's work finally selling, my kiddo and her Batman being in the middle of Houston (now harboring storm fugitives), and Bunny flipping our schedules with pre-K, basically our lives lately... I've got a full agenda today, so see ya.
That regular 'heartbeat' you see at the beginning of the last 7 days, what I termed the Master's knocking, completely died out over the last 24 hours. This is the first time in MONTHS I have seen normal stats, i.e. real people coming and going. Several posts on the auto hitting scored well over 1500 hits apiece (one wound up over 2000, but I think part of that was actual traffic from a special interest group), and I am still so calloused from seeing fake traffic that I can barely believe real people actually hit them, but I see once in awhile that they really do. Also must've gotten picked up on someone's content curator on the 1st, that spike the other day was a surprise post from the past that had nothing to do with the auto hitting, and surges continued through the day to one particular post. Since actual posting had gone completely dead during that time, I can't take any personal credit for that at all, so thank you to whoever.
I'm doing my best not to fall into the "I'm missing Syfy's Sharknado Week with the Snarkalecs live tweeting" abyss, but last night I dove into the #ToxicShark feed for a few minutes and absolutely loved it. I miss that so bad. Sharknado 5: Global Swarming airs this coming Sunday night, and I.WILL.BE.THERE. I still think the Sharknado franchise is the most brilliant all-inclusive contract collection ever conceived. Check out Sharknado: Know Your Meme.
Meanwhile, not quite keeping up live with GoT and several other shows, catching up when we can.
I've gotta mention that I finally caught a possible Stan Lee nod on Doc McStuffins. In one particular special hour-long episode titled Welcome to McStuffinsville, we learn that Grandma shares in Doc's secret and gives her a 'toysponder' disguised as a bandaid that transports them to a world of toys, and Doc is promoted to head of the toy world hospital. Along the way, there is a broken toy named Stanley who plots to break lots of toys in order to make new friends that will have to hang out with him. At one point a giant magnet is turned on, entrapping toys containing metal, and Stuffy turns to him saying, "Not cool at all! Stanley, you don't have to do this!", and Stanley replies, "I do, Stuffy. I do." I've seen that ep a few times because it's in Bunny's top ten, and today I happened to be looking away from the screen when that line came through, and I heard it- "Stan Lee, you don't have to do this!" and immediately flashed back on all the cool evil villain scenes, and everything about Stanley clicked perfectly into Stan Lee's superhero wisdom and how villains originate. The scene was absolutely perfect, and if you're a Marvel fan, just *wow*. I loved it. Oh, look, I found it on youtube. See if you think it sounds like Stuffy says "Stan Lee" at that spot, about a minute into this.
My brain is on Hyper Active right now, so I'm slinging thru some new uploads.
And some old ones.
Those of you who envisioned me sitting here buried in youtube, I've jumped up from this chair 8 times since I started this post, and paused each of the vids at least 5 times. Live blogging. I'm not sure how Sunday evening will go, but I've announced to my family that I'll be camped in the livingroom with my tech rolling thru live tweet feeds that will not stop for anything, and I imagine I provoked every Loki in the multiverse just saying that. That means any and all of the following list could happen during my attempt to focus on something I enjoy for 2 hours straight-
death (srsly, how many times has someone in my vicinity DIED {or nearly died} right after I actually announced something, and y'all know I've got the blogs to prove it)
dismemberment (hey, if a chainsaw accident can happen within an eighth mile of me on Father's Day, anything can happen)
epic natural disaster (how many times has Missouri flooded this year?)
epic tech fail (I will be risking a 4 year old {and other adults} walking by with liquids that hopefully have tightly sealed lids on them)
epic facepalm (drama never stops, and if ANYONE jolts my family into sadness in the middle of my joy {looking at YOU, ex idiot}, I will def make you famous)
various and sundry odds and ends just simply going wrong, because that's what the cosmos DOES
During that list I completely stopped for something else and then got up 2 more times. Start placing your bets on whether I actually get to live tweet Sharknado 5. 😁
I need to make Sunday a party day. I'll hafta think of some fun food.
I'm thinking chocolate pie with an ocean meringue. I may not get much more creative than that if I keep sidetracking into other stuff.
Most of all, I miss live tweeting my fave TV doctor who, by the way, actually has a medical degree. Wild veer down a youtube path there. See ya.
I was plowing through another old stack of stuff, grinding away on the shredder and getting ready to move a little piece of furniture when I ran into some old measurements from 2012 after I lost that 50 pounds in 2011. I have since gained back 20 of those pounds, and this is the impact of 20 pounds.
Thigh- gained an inch around (ug)
arm- gained an inch around (ok, so I'm an inch bigger all over)
waist- gained 3 inches around (WHAT)
stomach- gained 4 inches around (no... this can't be right)
hips/butt- gained 4 1/2 inches around (facepalm)
That is 20 pounds of pure fight against sometimes twice yearly prednisone and this latest stupid gabapentin thing that screwed my diabetes to the moon and I'm still grappling that fasting glucose down to at least the high 90s 3 months later.
This has been my hardest year for diet and exercise since 2011, even though my blood work is super healthy, my diet is awesome, I'm finally sleeping the way doctors want me to, and I'm very controlled on nearly everything with as little medication as possible. Well, that's not entirely accurate. 2012 sucked quite a bit because I was still dragging to gym with so much challenge that I could barely handle nustep and basic lower core. But I was skinnier. Well, fat skinnier.
This is unacceptable.
April is always hard, so focus has to stay on controlling allergies. I've already cut out cheese, fish, and corn (I already ate very little corn anyway, because diabetic) because high histamine foods. I'm itching all over this morning for whatever unknown reason, and all I can do is keep taking antihistamines and avoid histamine triggers trying to stay off pred. Breathing is first priority, cardiac under stress is second, and everything I do is about avoiding developing congestive heart problems as I age through super spoonie challenges.
I've been around nursing homes and hospitals through other people's stuff enough to know that how much I weigh when I crash will be how difficult it is to care for me, help me move, keep my circulation healthy, avoid pneumonia complications, etc. I know I'm too young to even be thinking like this, but since I've already had my foot nearly in that door, I want to be more in control of how I finally do go in that door.
I lost the equivalent of a 50 pound bag of dog food, or 5 10-pound bowling balls. I've got 2 of those bowling balls back. I don't want them. Even if I'm in less pain and better health, this is still unacceptable. It's a quick slide back down a very slippery slope if I'm not careful.
As much as I loathe this part, I'm going to have to just start actual counting calories again. The first time around, it was simple. No special plans, no exercise, just stop eating after I hit 1500. That's all it took. 50 pounds melted off in 4 months with nothing more than that. I had incentive back then because my health was scary dismal and my food allergies became frightening, so now I'm looking for a new kind of incentive. I've got 3 other people in my house eating whatever they want, and one of them being 3 years old doesn't help. I'm not able to trick myself into believing I earn anything for achieving a goal like this (my biggest incentive has always been food, alas), and I don't have enough self awareness to really care what other people think of me in general, so it really is up to me to just own wanting this. So what do I cut out when I've already cut so much out that all I get for a treat is an ounce of chocolate chips...?
Looking at you, third cup of coffee with evap milk in you...
I'm feeling mean, so here's the most annoying Benny vid I've ever seen.
I've been off and on this post for 3 days, so if you think you can handle all this, grab a sandwich and kick back.
When a 3 year old says it's time to clean the floors, it'stimetocleanthefloors. And no holding back, very disgusted *ew* kind of thing- Meemaw, you need to clean the floor! and then dancing off sprinkling more sticky around like sticky pixie dust.
So yeah, filled up the ol' steam mop Sunday while they were off visiting friends, dropped the reservoir on the floor hole side down, cleaned it up with a used towel, and @bonenado breezed through saying Good job, way to mop! 👍 #achievementunlocked I'm calling it a presoak. It werked.
Hello mildew, my old friend.
I've come to scrub you off again
Because the surfaces that you're darkling
I think it's time to make them resparkling
And it's gross how you're coating up the drain
You can't remain
Time to go down and perish.
I could make that 4 verses longer like the song, but I'm really not that into mildew hate. I mean, I don't tolerate it, yeah, and sometimes it sucks that I live in a state that strongly promotes its flourishing growth and it gags me to see it, so I'm usually all over it before it even shows up, but I could be doing something else like folding laundry.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
I love how kids are so innocent of seeing the bigger picture for awhile.
Poor mama can't see at all.
There we go, that works.
Boops are awesome. That is all.
Flying casual, like you do... Luke: Vader's on that ship. Han Solo: Now don't get jittery, Luke. There are a lot of command ships. Keep your distance, though, Chewie, but don't *look* like you're trying to keeping your distance.
[Chewie barks a question] Han Solo: *I* don't know. Fly casual.
--quote source--
I proudly admit that I gave birth to this person. I will always love this face, and this is my fave pic ever.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The amazing leftover waste of oak tree sex. I'm so glad humans don't do this.
While so far I'm doing uber fantastic during peak tree pollen (compared to years past), it's not taking much to trigger histamine overloads. One day I saw my psychologist (how many people hang out on that beautiful fabric covered couch?) and ran through Walmart (I seriously actually get facial swelling in Walmart during high histamine seasons even without touching my face, and spring sunshine only exacerbates it because I get photophobic- polymorphic light eruption- when I'm in histamine overload) and spent the rest of the day tanked on enough benadryl to take a horse down, but I was just fine. One way I know I'm dealing with a reaction is when benadryl doesn't make me sleepy. My body gets so wired reacting that I can take benadryl all day long and never keel over into a nap. I have a great fight or flight response, good thing I'm not a meta (from comics for people who don't know what that is) or I'd probably be a ticking time bomb.
It's still beautiful.
So far this month I've had moderate reactions to salmon and corn on the cob on two different weeks, so naturally I'm all over looking up lists of high histamine foods to avoid, like All About Histamines. I spent so many years in my past with doctors saying IBS and anxiety- that has all melted away since I changed what I eat and started noticing that pollen seasons and hormones tend to kick up the systemic response to foods I normally eat just fine. I didn't start learning this until I went anaphylactic on several food groups over 3 years, notably nuts and peanuts (cashews was my first biggie), citrus (I lament the loss to this day), and wheat (the worst ever, 17 days on prednisone but boy did my life change after I purged it out of my house). I stopped eating fish and seafood until that all calmed down, about 3 years. I had to purge all my herbal teas (surprise! yes, you can have allergic reactions to chamomile) and stopped eating tomato salsas and sauces (I'm not even allergic to tomatoes, but they are a super trigger for kicking the rest up a notch), and the only chocolate I'll touch at all is Hershey's cocoa and Hershey's milk chocolate chips. I've been very fortunate that I can still tolerate dairy and eggs, but I'm learning not to overdo them during spiky histamine months.
Our first Japanese iris bloom.
The regular irises are about to pop, too.
In the interim, 'little' things I've lived with for a long time have been magically healing unawares. A CT of my abdomen for something else entirely (thankfully negative) remarked that a significant years-long spot on my liver could no longer be seen, so technically I probably can no longer say I have NASH. A treadmill stress test in the last 5 years placed me about 20 years younger than I really am, which is really significant with my kind of health history. On top of that, my lungs are scarred up from a soil based fungal infection and even though I lived on daily steroid inhaler for 9 months just to breathe one year when I was at my sickest point, a pulmonologist was unable to trigger an asthma attack during testing. I'm still at risk for COPD as I age (only smoked a year and a half, go figure), but aside from airway reactions during higher histamine seasons, I have beautifully clear lungs and easy breathing the last few years, and I think I use an inhaler maybe once a year now. I keep one on me anyway in my epipurse for emergencies, but I love not having to use it.
On the outer cusp of Mirkwood.
I changed my diet and morphed over the last 6 years into the healthiest I've been in my adult life, like aging backward. I still get tired easily, and I'm getting stiffer and have to keep after mobility and core strength to stay on top of normal wear and tear during aging, but at least I'm able to take care of myself around my own house. I've been through a couple of years of needing help putting on shoes and socks, not being able to drive, etc. I run into forum posts where patients say they'd rather die slow painful deaths than be compliant with whatever, and being someone coming back from the brink of slow, painful death, I just laugh and say Ok, be an idiot, but stop complaining about it. Years ago I asked a woman I know who was terribly ill all the time if she would give up her Pepsi if she knew it would add 10 years to her life, and she actually laughed and told me to my real face (not on internet or phone) that she would die before she gave up her Pepsi. Well... I'm still here. I gave up all soda pop and a whole lot more. I'm still here being good for people, not dragging their lives down.
And that's the thing, isn't it? The conundrum of becoming drags on our families, on society, on the economy, and the horrible depression of needing support networks and compassion. If we are sick and we know that we are doing it to ourselves, how much compassion can we expect? Let's do a thought experiment just for fun. Survivalists and conspiracy theorists contend that Mormonism is a branch of Illuminati or Trilateral control, basically one of the many parts of the New World Order mobilization and execution strategy. (I'm not saying that's what's going on, but if it is, then I personally think Glenn Beck is a strategically placed doublethink cover, like many others in religion, politics, and journalism.) Mormons are encouraged to follow health guidelines, as do some other religions. Entire religions recognize how foods and substances affect their populations, and those religions are part of world control, ergo perhaps that is how the new world order is 'weeding out' the sick from the healthy and rebuilding the future. And if that is the case and you are falling for the products that spin you into a pharmaceutical loop, joke's on you, isn't it? Because it's all out there, whether it's conspiracy or not, the FACT that these things make us sick and that big corp and big pharma are living large on you being stupid enough to say you'd rather die than give up what's killing you.
Bluejacky is butting in saying we always thought humans were stupid anyway, but Pinky is reminding us that we like humans after all, and kind of feel sorry for them being so dumb. It's not always their own faults, and addictions and lifestyles really are super hard to change, as we know from personal experience. So who are we to judge? We are here to say there really is light on the other end of the long dark tunnel of suffering, there really is relief from depression and sadness, and it's worth all the work while you're feeling hopeless to finally arrive there and see it for real. I know many of us feel trapped in our bodies, in our jobs, in our lives, and on this planet, but we are more powerful than we can imagine, and every day the tiny changes we make add up to great big changes over time. You can do this.
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I've never messed with site maps. Google has been trying to tell me for months that Pinky blog is too big to crawl now. I can see them still crawling my other blogs I that barely touch (pourquoi?), but not Pinky blog. Am I worried at all?
No, I'm not worried, and I'll tell you why. Webmii ranked me up from 4.4 to 5.6 just over the last 6-8 months I think, statcounter is telling me incoming from facebook far outstrips G+ and twitter referrals (and much of the FB traffic is from outside my network, I know where all my people are), and as rarely as I use wordpress, new material from both my own blogs and Autisable show up pretty immediately in my name search in a Google search bar, so I feel like site mapping Pinky blog wouldn't be terribly different from Mantrid collapsing a universe. It IS too big, and I don't want to pull a ton of crawlers in all of a sudden and upset whatever balance keeps the internet from spiraling into a black hole.
Speaking of Mantrid... Yes, epic fail getting that done. Again. Yes, my house flipped over like a pancake nearly right on top of me taking finishing that work seriously. Again. Which basically means that my method and plan wildly skewed into an alt world kind of daily rescheduling (since when has this ever not happened?), but I do have more written out, a few more screen shots, etc. And today, as I'm adapting to this new lifestyle and time zone (I've adapted my sleep schedule by several hours), my brain was so on heading out the door that all kinds of motivation and ideas were sorting themselves out as I drove around, but an hour later, even with extra antihistamines, that was just gone and a sinus pressure headache was in its place. Still, I'm thrilled that I'm over 2/3 through April and have yet to break out an inhaler, and how I'm this far in without prednisone is amazing. Last year I made it pretty much all the way through, but was extremely miserable and hiding in my house. This year I'm juggling my stuff and actually breathing easily, worst of it is my eyes, lotta ducking my head in stabby sunlight and morphing into lizard eyeballs kind of stuff, but that beats oozy eyes and ear infections. And anyway, me talking about real life stuff does this in search engines, so I really don't see the point of wasting a day or two on site mapping.
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So here I am, my first April since I pieced together all the things and crossed the threshold of that doorway I waited so long to walk through. April will always be my month of mourning. I'll always carry shattered moments frozen in time, and I'll always feel them pierce me like broken glass in every April to come. The only difference now is that I'm aware that I'm doing this, and that this is what affects everything else I do and say to people all around me, hiding that I'm bleeding internally while the shards shred my heart all over again. I really don't think I need to talk about it any more, at least not here.
But there is a reason I brought it up. #transparency I was talking to my psychologist about how a person like me and where I come from can reach a place where I'm defending my decision to publicly support a faux snuff film producer because I want the world to really see what some of us live through, live with. I want the world to see and feel what my best friend went through being stabbed to death multiple times during her brutal rape. I want people reeling away in shock from truth, from the horrors of real, and start looking more intently at each other, at the people all around us, to really see each other, noticing those of us who've touched the darkness, escaped it, slipped through it, been part of it. Those of us who talk in code keep low profiles, braced against the sadness of stepping up into public knowing we won't have the support of our families and many of our friends while we reach out to others trying to make it through the dark, others feeling alone and lost with no one to talk to or understand.
And then the weird cognitive leap from walking out of that appointment to driving over to a library to pick up some more books for a 3 year old, that strange step back out into the kind of bright daylight that hides the pain this planet is in.
Twitter can't fix this, although it's a good start. I know it looks like I left twitter. I still see you guys, and I'm still checking in. My rock is my twitter gang.
While I was driving around, another opening sentence for another story popped into my mind, titled 500M. "There was a time when there were over 6 billion of us..." The rumors about population planning and culling might be history some day. What would conspiracy theories turn into looking back? They would become legends, myths. Just stories. So many stories in my head. Will I ever get them written down and shared? They feel important. I love writing. What is stopping all this? Besides pain and pain and pain and pain, in my body, in my heart, in the people all around me, in the world.
Pinky blog is growing into something I never dreamed. I stepped back out so timidly, and over time have slowly removed layers and layers in public view until I'm no longer timid. I may not be a youtube vlogger or a contending reviewer or a special interests networker, but I'm the center of a universe with many things in it, and all these things are part of me, and all these things must come together soon and become a New Thing.
And I laugh- How in the world is that even possible if I can't even finish writing a TV series character review? And I laugh back- We never thought it would be possible to make it through April this well, either. Touché.
I guess we're supposed to get some pollen relief today when rain sweeps through. I'm still doing really well so far, almost unbelievably too well for this time of year. Oh, what the heck, I'll take it! Others, though, are dropping like flies around me, so I can't gloat in case it smacks me when I least expect it.
With a Bunny in the house, sooner or later a cookie must appear. I'm afraid I fell off the cookie wagon. Not in a really bad way, but 3 chewy oatmeal cookies wound up in the wrong tummy over a course of several hours. Also...
I want to immediately say it wasn't me, I'm a fastidious person who doesn't like getting things sticky. I'm so fastidious that I changed my sox twice before bedtime so I wouldn't stick to anything in my sleep. @bonenado is reaching a place where voluntary floor service will soon be an option, so all I have to do is wait this out, then sit back and chillax while a self-correcting system automatically clicks on. I should buy watermelon more often.
Don't worry, not going there. I don't put that stuff into my mouth any more. I'm just stuck on a word smash week where words ping around in my head and won't leave me alone. Like sternocleidomastoid. Why in the world that word popped into my head is beyond me. Those muscles aren't bothering me at all lately, which is a nice change. I really was bouncing philosophical stuffs around for awhile yesterday, though. I think my stomach butted in because I was too busy to notice I missed lunch.
I've had a few very interesting private convos this month, each were completely different subjects with completely different people, but they all had a common theme- I clearly didn't know what love even was growing up. I didn't question it, didn't expect it, didn't care about other people bringing it up, didn't feel sad about not feeling it, and almost never applied it to myself or anything going on around me. I did know, though, that I didn't feel it, even though I could feel protective or enjoy hanging out with my sister.
After I had a child, I spent a few years filtering through all the social pressures and expectations that becoming a parent opened my eyes to. By the time she was five I was eyeball deep in a relationship that would strip every last shred of innocence that my first marriage had somehow left tatters of still clinging around like old wallpaper. By the time my little girl was seven, I knew exactly what love was NOT, and wrote out 3 pages of gripping philosophical sadness that concluded humans discarding each other like used dryer sheets could only be cured by at least one person rising above the expectations for love and hope to become love and hope. While we wait for love to rescue our pitiful lives, love can never really happen and no one has hope, because waiting around for love to 'happen' cancels out what we think is supposed to be coming from someone else. If we are expecting it like that, we can't be it ourselves for someone else. But when we rise up and love anyway, hope becomes real for someone else. The one who does the rising up must do it not only without hope, but against all hope. As long as people discard each other like used dryer sheets, 'love' spreads like a virus, and we teach all the bad habits to new loves, and they in turn teach it to new loves, because love is a throwaway item. The baggage we carry infects more and more people around us until we grow bitter and lonely in our old age. I found that unacceptable. The only way to stop it is to stop treating each other like dryer sheets, objects that are supposed to fluff up our emotional lives, hold down the static, and make everything smell fresh.
My second marriage is well into its 23rd year, and not because it's easy and we're romantics. I am one of the most fortunate people I know, meeting someone who thinks the same way (not in so many words, but more intuitively after a painful childhood himself), and what makes it work for us is we're so terribly stubborn and not easily swayed with every little breeze of emotion. Oh, there's been emotion, long years of gritting our teeth through mess after mess, challenges upon challenges, and it all boils down repeatedly to neither one of us would ever abandon the other even on our very worst days, weeks, months, and years. We've both been abandoned, neglected, ignored, used and abused, and we both know what love is NOT. We know that looking around for something we don't create ourselves is a ridiculous lie to tell ourselves. We. Are. Love. Why look around for it and hope to find it when the next person is doing that too, looking around and hoping. How can we be what the other person needs from that point of view?
I don't feel emotions right like other people do. I don't feel loving. I don't feel kind. Love and kindness are philosophies of emotional logic I developed to survive, because without them I am terribly alone and deeply sad. I don't think I am capable of being in love correctly, yet I'm in love all the time. The euphorias I've developed in later age (hormones out of the way?) can now easily be triggered, and they are the only thing that's ever connected me to feeling happy, especially the first time when my brain was so chemical soaked that I was high on chemically induced love and felt happy for the first time in my whole life. I enjoy people and things, I laugh quite a lot, I am pleased with this and that, but outside of euphoric episodes, I don't feel happy. And I don't even think about that, whether I 'feel happy'. This has been discussed at length with a psychologist over several years, looked at from several angles that include autism spectrum with complications like synesthesia and narcissism and possibly even dissociation, the way my parents raised me and my years of wrangling with a conflicting belief system, my best friend being maliciously murdered, injuries from a nasty accident, a first marriage to a pedophile, an affair that wound up in what boiled down to a 'forced' abortion (reverse rape, complete with restraints)...
Did I just keep switching it all off? How do I switch it back on? Did I survive because I couldn't turn it on in the first place? Yet I puzzled it all out into a philosophy of being that my psychologist thinks on par with extremely advanced awareness levels and thought processing skills for young child, preteen, adolescent, and young adult. I absorbed philosophies like people around me absorbed holiday candy and TV shows and the other lies of social structure, stuck on roller coasters of feeling happy and unhappy because that's what modern society insists that we constantly assess in ourselves. Are we happy? Personally, I think that feeling is so easily mimicked putting sugar in our mouths that we've become accustomed to habitual feeding frenzies and then agonizing over all the ways food makes us unacceptable. Food porn. There are stories throughout history of socialites alternately gorging and starving themselves, but what darker secrets lurked beneath?
The reason the questions are coming back up is because I noticed I didn't feel anything doing something that another person would likely have found exciting, possibly even exhilarating. Sometimes I do something that other people would feel prone to brag about or use as personal resume padding, and I feel nothing, even though I know now that I should. I'm aware nowadays that I'm numb most of the time. I used to harbor anger like Dr. Evil petting Mr. Bigglesworth, but I've mostly let go of that, so I'm on a sort of testing ground, poking myself here and there to see if I'm feeling anything.
Happiness is conditional on people and events and material things and feelings affecting me, and there is nothing in this world that makes me happy, although eating certain foods used to come close. Nothing *makes* me happy. I never understood what happiness was even supposed to be, like what does it mean when people say they don't feel happy. I grew up completely missing the ability to grasp that concept. I've tried to word out my thoughts on it through the years in some of my silly surveys at Surveypalooza, but after I went through the initial euphoria (almost completely stopped eating and sleeping for 12 days and was continuously gurgling in a love state, which alarmed my psychiatrist), anyway, after I *felt* that, I finally had some kind of context, because I was able to say "I feel so happy." I had never felt happy before. No meds or drugs or events or people in my life had ever induced any kind of happy feeling even remotely like that, but as soon as I was in it, I recognized it. And then when the euphoric episode crashed back down, the happiness was over and I haven't really felt that kind of happiness since, even though I go through euphoric episodes fairly regularly now. I felt happy for 12 days out of my entire life, and the whole thing was a brain chemical imbalance.
Love and happiness are important, I know that. I know it's important that I help the people around me feel loved and happy, even if I can't or don't feel these things myself. I care deeply for the people around me, and I know I'm very lucky I actually have people in my life who love me back, even if I don't have any desire or need for them to go out of their way to do and say things to show me this. Well, poor @bonenado caught it a few times, but we're both hung up on our conundrums, and pretty much apparently nailed the love thing out of sheer stubborn devotion.
Not everyone is so lucky. Not everyone finds the glove that fits their weird hand. Not everyone feels understood and accepted, quirks and all. Not everyone feels comfortable just being themselves around people who are supposed to be the most important loves of their lives- parents, sibs, offspring. It's not something that came easily for me and Scott, and yet here we are, out of nothing more than sheer stubbornness and an unwillingness to drift alone again among the dryer sheets. Neither one of us can ever go back to that kind of thinking. We make the love we want and we live the love that we need. We've become for others what we desperately needed and didn't have for ourselves. It's been hard and it took time, but we are who we are and there was no other way to survive. We draw firm boundaries around misconceptions and dysfunctions, and we don't tolerate that crap in our own home. Our love depends on utter honesty, utter trust that the other won't leave over something stupid. My home is my sanctuary, and my people are exactly that- mine.
A great big part of this was letting go of and walking away from the kinds of things that perpetuate emotional codependency (dysfunctional relationships doomed to fail because they are not love even if they are disguised as love), chemical dependency (alcohol, drugs, meds), experience dependency (things inducing rushes of adrenaline and euphorias, shopping, thrill seeking, for some people gambling would go here), pretty much anything that masks pain, to put it very simply. To feel pain is one of the privileges of being on this earth (it seems designed especially for pain), and if souls and eternity exist in any form at all, then my being here is by choice because I wanted to learn something important. Blocking that process only slows down my spiritual progress and hurts other people. Even if I can't feel remorse or guilt, I know that is a bad thing and that I will be held responsible for being stupid. Years of deep reflection point no other direction than this- that we are here to learn to love through the toughest kinds of pain imaginable. It's ok to be weak and fall on our faces, but it's not ok to *not* learn from that, and once learned, it's definitely not ok to turn our backs on it and be selfish. I think this holds water in any religion or belief system you'd care to bring up.
My name is Broken Dragon, and that is my phyllosopapilla on life, the universe, and everything. I was 42 when I woke up. The next year I made a blog...
I was a good alumnus purchasing university beef via local market last week. I grew up on grass fed registered Herefords, so Pinky totally approves. Alas, the yummy results all went into the freezer as the apocalypse took @bonenado down, not quite back to pulling that out of the freezer yet. I'm apparently fine. The most I got was more spacey with a dizzy rush and stomach twinge once in awhile, but not even a hint of the nasty fever and consequences that pulled Scott into the abyss. I super slammed pearls probiotics and nearly stopped eating for about 3 days, wonder if that actually made the difference.
Between the Bunnython and Papa's Apocalypse, having @bonenado around so much the last couple weeks has been a lot like vacation on holidays, only more exciting in dreadful ways and no presents or goodies. Lots of TV, though. Well, Scott did, I played minecraft. I've kept up with Dr. Ken and The Flash, finally caught up The Walking Dead, but I'm not in a TV mood. He's been eyeball slamming everything backed up on Grimm, Elementary, Sleepy Hollow, NCIS, Lethal Weapon, pulled me in for Blindspot and The Blacklist, and the list goes on but they slip my mind right now.
Moved nearly 4M MB off Jawn, have at least that much more to move onto another stick whenever I get another one. I've made jokes in the past about fans asking me to read fanfics, but I usually don't mention the people who ask me to accept file sharing gifts. I have more storage on Jawn filled with stuff from other people than I do from my own stuff. I appreciate all of it, but my private life gets a little bogged down stopping for that level of share, and it only feeds my data hoarding problem. I'm the proverbial VHS and cassette tape hoarder that has morphed into the digital world, and somehow my only real vice is youtube hoarding, but when it spreads across several prolific fandoms, it kinda eats up the hard drive. I'm on a 16G rig, so I really don't want all that going down over hoarding laziness.
Physical therapy is very different this spring. About 3 years ago we started upper core strength, hit walls galore that flared my fibro pain quite badly, diverted to nerve and deeper tissue work the last couple years, essentially pinpointed root causes and exact movements causing flares, and *now* I'm learning to micro manage. I'm back to upper core strength, but this time it's fine tuning tinier deeper muscles with smaller movements. I lived with a neck injury (ejected from car) for so many years that freeing up the area with tissue shred (ASTYM) allowed muscles I haven't been able to use properly in years to start trying to work again, and I'm having to learn all over how to move without hurting myself while I continue to heal. It's slow going, but the improvements are so worth it. This is my fifth or sixth year in continuous (with breaks) physical therapy (PT actually goes back to 2007, so this is ultimately my tenth year). I've worked very hard to get all this back. Physical therapy is a commitment. You don't just blow it off with "It's not working" and stop. You stick with it and let these people do their jobs helping you get your function and mobility back. Some of them have pretty big degrees in this stuff. I can imagine how frustrated they might feel with noncompliant patients who quit and opt for shortcuts that wind up failing in the long run. A lot of people with pain levels like mine, and especially my age, opt for risky surgeries with 50% success rates on top of complicating conditions like diabetes, which make healing take even longer, and you can't just medicate and make all that pain stop without damaging your organs along the way. It gets pretty real when you hit your 50s that people start going down all around you, and since I've spent my entire adult life in the kind of pain that most 80 year olds don't even get unless they have severe arthritis of some kind, I'm not going down. I've *been* down. Hell if you try to push me back down again.
It's taking all my focus to handle stuff lately, so I'm creating marvelous stuff in Mo Creatures and having fun watching the chat scroll up while I work. Earlier this week one of the players went all psycho and ran around killing other people's pets and mocking in caps, and while it was kind of funny to watch, it dragged on for a bit and players were hurt by it, which really isn't cool. (I thought staff handled it really well, very professional.) You never know when someone has lost a pet or loved one (parent, sib, best friend, baby...) in real life, or a family member is getting through cancer or something, and using a game to get through some hard stuff, so it gets really personal when someone intrudes and invades and decimates your work hours and a fond little bond to an AI block that looks like a cute pet.
This is pretty much how I feel about my Mo Creatures family.
Still kind of holding my breath, but I think we actually skipped winter this year.
Ok, what's going on with Pinky? What a very long week I've had.
March is my favorite birthday month because of a couple of my fave peoples, so I caved and made cake. Before I share, you must understand that I've not had actual CAKE in a very very long time. I think the last time I had a cupcake was months ago. Even last fall on my own birthday I veered into a chocolate waffles experiment, so the cake craving has grown really strong.
These are a delightfully moist gluten free adaptation of Hershey's Chocolatetown Special Cake recipe. In place of regular flour I used half King Arthur gluten free multi-purpose flour and half Domata gluten free recipe ready flour. You need the xantham gum in Domata for it to rise, but using all Domata turns the batter into bubble gum with the mixer. I also went with a basic cream cheese frosting- one block cream cheese, one stick real butter, 4 cups powdered sugar, 6-7 tablespoons of canned milk. Imagine my first bite of yummy moist cake in forever. I baked it off in giant muffin tins.
And of course I'm diabetic, so I can eat only a bite or two at a time every hour or two, but it was still very pleasant being able to do that.
Anyway, happy birthday to my loved ones. I celebrated. 🎉😁🎈🎂
Have been back on original gabapentin dose (100mg 3xday) for what, a week and half now? My regular doctor is holding me at that dose the rest of this month while I get through physical therapy. I think he'd like me to stay on it indefinitely, and commanded me to touch base with the neurologist about monitoring my dosing. Doctors have a very hard time 'treating' me for fibro and pain the last few years because my PTSD over 'going down' on meds or illness is so bad. I've crashed so hard on handfuls of meds taking down my immune system and spending years recovering that it makes me cry to even just talk about it out loud with my psychologist (#transparency), so from here on out is like walking the line between pain control and mood control. I'm not joking around about any of this, and I'm not saying any of it lightly. I can tell that the darker harder core lurkers hitting me daily are probably in the same boat, and I'll keep saying this forever- you're not alone. I'm here, too, walking the webs in the long, dark nights looking for sparks of hope and distraction, anything to hold onto while I keep hanging on to wisps of myself falling apart.
In the meantime, I've fixed up my skin! Finally! some of you say. Yeah, I've seen some of you stop and stare at me on Mo Creatures, it's been kinda funny. One guy looked me all over real good because my last skin was so sloppy and crap, like a cracked Easter egg that a 2 year old did. Yeah, that's me running around like I just threw any old wrecked up skin on... Anyway, I'm going with this for awhile now, adapted on Nova Skin. The original is from one of the many Galaxy Girls a lot of different people have done. I might go tweak it later on, but it's kinda the colors I want. I'd prefer black hair, but then the eye accents don't work. Anyway, the overall effect is supposed to be like the galaxy hair and makeup kind of stuff people are doing nowadays.
Kinda having a headache, so I'm going to keep moving. Need to get on laundry and get food lined up to cook later, might or might not have a big Bunny day, I'm already getting all over pain control, and part of that is moving around, so here I go.
