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Le Chat

Le Chat

My latest zentangle project finished. This one was really fun and very therapeutic. I’m pretty proud of myself for completing this.

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Struggling to the Top, Again.

To be perfectly honest, I’m tired and I want pierogies. Or sushi. But since I don’t have a car today, sushi is out of the question and I have a feeling Ken might be all sushi’d out. It’s all I want lately. So shortly I will attempt to stand long enough for some pierogies which will most likely evolve into pizza rolls, and I will then hit the bed like I have been doing manual labor all day. The truth is however, I haven’t been doing much manual labor all day. I caught up with a great friend today…. I MISS YOU KURT IRBY!!!!…..I cleaned the kitchen up a bit, and I have been exhausted the rest of the day.

We found out yesterday that I was denied round 1 of SSDI approval. While this was actually expected, my psyche is actually taking it as a blow. Those fuckers have NO IDEA what I deal with everyday, how I struggle to physically and mentally remain here on this earth and try to find a purpose in my life. How I DO NOT want to ask for help, yet I know I’m in no position at this point to make it on my own anymore.To someone on the street I may look like a normal human, but I assure you every step I take is calculated, every activity planned. Everything revolves around having the proper rest and pain under control to carry on. My goals aspire to be the girl who can support others like me from home, while taking care of myself, to let them know they are not alone, there are people out there willing to connect with them. But it cant happen if this stress in my life over where my next meal is coming from continues to be a problem. I need a little support myself so I can give back to those who need support as well. Is our system so broken that this can never be a possibility for me? I hope not. In the meantime, I need a lawyer and advocate to get me through these appeals so I can continue to fight this fight until I can bring some relief to myself and to Ken who is my steadfast supporter no matter what we face, or the outcome. I need to live up to this for him, and myself at this point.

Pieces Of Me

I’ve been feeling rather split lately. Ever since my breakdown last year and getting the mental help I so desperately needed things have changed for the better, mostly. The crying has stopped, the rageful outbreaks have stopped, I can drive my car again given I’m not too fatigued to do so. I’m more the task oriented me, the one who uses lists to get through the day, who recognizes her symptoms and *tries* to head them off at the pass and I take my medication and see my therapist faithfully. But something is different too.

I asked people if I would lose the part of me that I really liked about myself if I took these meds, my sort of whimsical, sarcastic, over energetic creative spells I used to get. I called it inspiration, and when it hit, it hit HARD. I could write for days about things, I could redecorate my house, I saw the humor in EVERYTHING in life. I feel that girl is just not there anymore. I don’t laugh with the same intense joy I remember, and I don’t get the same thrill out of writing. In fact, I question if I’m even GOOD at this now.

I also wish more of my anxiety was under control. Thankfully, as mentioned before, I can drive again without inducing a panic attack, but I’m pretty much overwhelmed by most everything else. Unpacking has been a nightmare. Half a box in, I look at the remaining contents and go “nope, can’t even handle that” and I walk away. I’m in the middle of a chronic fatigue crash as well, so remaining awake and functional to do this has been crazy hard, which only heightens the anxiety and feelings of worthlessness.

I know my health and stress levels play a factor in all this because I have a huge amount on my plate. I also know that the responsible thing to do is to NOT let myself go crazy again if I can help it, to take my meds, and to care for myself and Ken as best I can. However, I cannot help but pine for that little piece of creative crazy that I lost when I decided to become normal.