The Not-So-Exciting Tales of Rosa

I made a commitment to blog more regularly and it has been one big FAIL.  I attribute it to many things, including the fact that my give-a-shitter is broken, I don’t feel I can blog about a lot of what is going on in my life right now, and because everything I pour out seems to be pure drivel.

I’ve decided to stop caring about all of that, and just blog.  Duh, I should have decided this a long time ago, but it’s always a process for me.  Now, that doesn’t mean I’m going to start airing all my dirty laundry, it just means that posts will be more frequent, as well as a bit more random.  If I get a great idea for a  post (which hasn’t happened in weeks), I’ll really take my time and develop it.  Otherwise, I’ll just be writing about day-to-day life for now.

I quit smoking three weeks, five days, 17 hours, 58 minutes and 11 seconds ago. 1604 cigarettes not smoked, saving $216.66. Life saved: 5 days, 13 hours, 40 minutes.

Those stats are getting impressive.  Not so much the time stat, but over $200 saved, over 1600 cigs not smoked?  Holy shit!  You sometimes don’t realize how severe your addiction is until you’re not coughing much, you’re not short of breath anymore, and you see the cold numbers.

Quitting smoking hasn’t been easy as of late.  Yesterday, I had to ask Mom to pull all the money off my debit card, because it was too tempting to go buy a pack of cigarettes.  Now, if I went off and smoked a pack of cigarettes, I am sure I would be sick, but my anxiety level has been through the roof and I was completely convinced that smoking a cigarette would fix everything.  Well, reason and logic told me it just wouldn’t.  SOOOO, I am still smoke-free.  Thank God, because that was a close one.

I am having some motivation problems (ok, severe motivation problems), related to above-stated anxiety, some mild depression, big feelings of being overwhelmed.  I haven’t kept up on my housework as I should and I let what started out as a couple of mice under my sink turn into a much bigger problem.

The Big Dawg came over yesterday and gave me a kind lecture, all the while reassuring me it would be ok if I just followed a certain set of steps.  So, I’m committed to doing just that and I am committed to getting a big chunk of the work done before I ask Mom to come over and help.  That is what he suggested, and I think he is right.  You can’t leave your own messes for someone else to clean up.

And I am motivated.  I want to be able to have people over to my house again, for people to feel comfortable here.  Along with cleaning for mice, I will be cleaning for smoke residue, which should make things much more pleasant in general.  I have all the supplies I need, and am going to work at finding more time over the next four days (my four work-days), even though I have unfortunately scheduled a social event for nearly every evening.

Speaking of which, why in the eff do I do that?  Well, I mean, I know why.  I am painfully, hopelessly lonely.  As Mom says, there was someone always around (DSB) for over two years, and I got used to that, and now it is hit or miss if I will be able to find someone to talk to.  And as bad as it sounds, as terrible as DSB and my relationship was at times, there were good parts.

We had coffee together in the mornings, watched our favorite shows and ate dinner together at night.  For periods of our relationship, we talked about everything under the sun and could sit and visit for hours on end.  I also had a sense of safety and security, with DSB and Rascal at home.  I didn’t w0rry about my house being broken into or getting stranded by the side of the road or coming home in the dark.

There was someone to drive me places (because I have come to the point that I hate to drive) and someone to tell me (at all  hours of the day and night) that everything was going to be ok, that I was ok, that what I did or said was ok.  To give me advice.  To, for a time in our relationship, love me unconditionally.

I miss that and I work very hard every day at pushing through that.  I don’t talk about it with hardly anyone, just one friend and I think I may have mentioned it to Goddess of Mindfulness and my mom.  And I didn’t get into details with my dad the other day, when he asked me if I was lonely…I just cried and cried.

Sometimes I feel like no one understands or wants to understand.  Other times I feel very understood.  The times after it gets dark are the worst, but the day can be just as bad if I don’t have anything going on.  I just feel like I keep desperately reaching out and I am only burdening and annoying people.

A Reminder to Put Pants on Every Morning

I have a very dear Uncle, Uncle G, and it is only through medical miracles and (perhaps) prayers sent around the world that he is here with us today.  He is the Big Dawg’s brother, and they share red curly hair, freckles, and a love for the outdoors

Perhaps roughly two years ago, Uncle G was in the midst of getting a divorce.  It was a good thing for him, truly was.  One weekend morning, he hopped on his motorcycle and sped away to the local grocery store, because he was having people over and he was out of toilet  paper.  While on his journey, he was sideswiped by a truck.  He was life-flighted to KU Med, which is where anyone goes when anything really serious happens, in Kansas City, about an hour away.

We didn’t know for quite awhile if Uncle G was going to make it, and then when it became clear that he WAS going to live, we were very unsure that we would get back the same Uncle G that had been literally scraped off the road just weeks before.

My sister, a physical therapist, living in the same town, went and spent time with Uncle G nearly every day.  She read his medical reports, kept family updated, and just spent time with Uncle G.  She was a true blessing for him and for family, for us, to keep us updated.

Time went on and there were many different complications.  More surgeries, more IV’s, more antibiotics.  The guy couldn’t catch a break.  Even after leaving the hospital, he had to be rehospitalized at least once, that I know of.

But little by little, Uncle G was coming back.  And he did it with the most positive attitude I have ever seen in a person, and I mean ever.  Prior to his accident, he was always extremely positive and seemed like a happy person.  This accident didn’t take it away from him.

Today I was home alone, feeling bad for myself, having slept half my day away because I was up half the night, thinking I might as well just go back to bed instead of facing the intolerable loneliness I often feel these days.  Angry at myself for screwing up my psych meds for far too long, angry that the doctors just can’t figure out what is wrong, angry that I still don’t feel good.  Just angry.  Lonely and angry.

And then my favorite Uncle G called.  He wanted to stop by and visit.  He’d be here in five minutes.  The depressed part of  my brain screamed out, “Nooooo!  Your house is a mess and your hair isn’t washed.  Just put him off!”  So, that’s what I did.  Immediately after hanging up the phone, I had a revelation.  Uncle G would SO understand what I am going through.  So, I called him back and asked him to, yes, please come over.

Walking through the house, it really isn’t all that messy.  The kitchen is clean, and other than Avon products strewn across my dining room table, isn’t even cluttered.  I was only worried then about the fact that my now-short hair couldn’t go into a ponytail, but I found a headband and it actually looks rather cute.  To give myself a little burst, I gave myself one squirt of body splash and felt almost immediately better.

I put on jeans.  Better still.  One of my favorite tops.  Even better.  My feet still won’t fit into my shoes, but I jammed a pair of flip flops on and decided that would work.  All of this took less than five minutes.  I timed it.

And then Uncle G came and all was well, all was fine.   We had a really nice conversation and we talked about how it is to be sick for long periods of time and what we can do to make ourselves feel better.  I told him that just changing my clothes was motivating enough that I was going to run out and do a few errands.

So, a phone call and an uncle made my day today.  What’s making yours?

 

Just Message Me!

Pick Me Up

Daily Post Prompt:

What is the one word or phrase that immediately cheers you up when you hear it?

The last two years have left me extremely isolated.  I find myself with a few blog friends, and family.  Now, they’re all amazing people, and now I  have more time to spend with them…talking, chatting, texting, emailing.  There’s just more.

My favorite phrase is:

New message!

or

New email!

I don’t think the people I am friends with, nor my family realize how much just a text or an email can make my day.  I mean, it can literally turn it around, especially here lately.

I have been trying to reach out more, but at the same time not wanting to reach out too much and seem needy.  But now there are no restrictions on me, and I am starving for even a little bit of attention.  Even a “hey, how’s your day going?” is going to spark a long response from me.

I’m sure that can get annoying, and I know friends and family are sick to death of me talking about DSB, but it’s where my head’s at right now.  I’m trying to move on, but  you can’t resolve two years in a week’s time.

I am not trying to say that my family and friends are not paying me enough attention.  What I’m trying to say is that, any communication, is cherished and changes my day.  My mom might text me to pick up some rice for Cinco de Mayo (which was one of the best meals I’d had in a long time, Madre), and I appreciate her doing that perhaps over the top because there is a part of me that feels so very alone.

It’s hard to go from living your life with someone who is always around and always right on top of you, to being, well, free.  That lack of attention, even if it was negative attention, is noticeable, palpable.  My parents are doing a great job of including me and making sure I don’t have too much alone time, but there is only so much they can do.

Most of this, I just need to get through.  I need to settle down into being alone and get into a routine.  I know that.  But while I’m doing that, I’m still going to jump for joy at every new text message, every new email, every new call.  Probably for awhile, would be my guess.