Over and Out (at least for a bit....)

Jesus....

I can't be on Social Media for a while. I just can't....

Is it just me, or is the whole world going to hell in a hamper?? First there was this story. Seriously? And then this story. Are you kidding me? Followed by this story. OK, now I'm DONE. Signing off for awhile.... I was only online this morning for a few minutes and that's just half of what my eyes saw, and I swear I didn't go looking for it.

Granted, it's already been a week full of What The Hell. But I was coping. And then this happened and I can't stop thinking about cartoonists being called out by name and brutally executed. Fellow artists! Murdered in the name of God. I can't wrap my head around it....

But I should probably talk about it. I have to do something or I'll burst into flame. Or disappear. The overwhelming weight of all this awfulness will crush me.

Thicker-skinned folks in my social circle have branded me the bleeding heart who plugs her ears and shuts her eyes and thinks 'rainbows' and 'unicorns' to keep from dealing with anything unpleasant. And I'll admit that's me. Absolutely.

But I wish it wasn't. I wish I could be the Angry One. Or the One Who Isn't Afraid to Speak Out. Or the One Who Makes a Difference. But I'm not. It all gets internalized.

And then I just get mad at myself for being so helpless. Do I really think that cute doodles of fairies and flowers is going to do anything, help anyone?? How can I think that what I do could ever make a difference?

Or -- wait a second -- is what I do just another way of me putting my head in the sand? How can THAT help anyone?? And how must it look when I post pics of fluffy bunnies and sassy fairies while everywhere the world is falling apart?

......Ugh....

And this is where things get squirrely for me, so I'll just walk away for a bit so I can deal somehow. Bury my head back in the sand.

But I appreciate being able to 'talk' to you.... Thank you for being out there somewhere.
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Great While it Lasted

I should've knocked on wood. I should've waited for the other shoe. I should've known better, suspected something was UP.

:(

When I wrote last I was feeling amazingly invincible. Absolutely super-hero-ish! Impossibly painfree. And it was that last part that was probably the most surreal thing about my day. It's hard to explain. Maybe it's that you don't know just how uncomfortable you've been -- for so long -- until suddenly you're not. Then the absence of pain is so monumental that you just go around all day waiting for it to find you again. Because you know it will.

That day -- the day I wrote last -- was one of those days, those 'dipped-in-gold' days. A switch had been thrown and I wanted it to stay that way forever....

I was tempted to write down every little thing I'd done, every change I'd made, just so I could hopefully recreate the circumstances and feel That Dang Good again, whenever I wanted. Was it the way I made my coffee? Was it because I had peanut butter on rice bread instead of wheat? Was it because I went straight to the shower after getting up instead of immediately feeding the Zoo? Nothing I'd done seemed out of the ordinary....

Yet the absence of pain was like being in an impossible dream. I was focused; living in the moment instead of fractured in pieces as usual, a victim of sensory overload. My joints didn't feel like rusty coat hangers. The feet didn't hurt, the side didn't burn, the wrist didn't cramp. There was a pleasant peace inside my head and a silly smile on my face. My bus ride was a joy; the sun beaming through the window onto my face felt like I'd been transported to Paradise. My lunch was sublime; my tummy was so happy for it that I literally danced in my restaurant seat, James laughing at my ridiculousness. No negativity invaded my bubble. My head was quiet, my body weightless, my thoughts serene and sparkly and one-at-a-time instead of all rapid fire.....

I'm sure I've written here before about Chronic Fatigue and Fibromyalgia and being old enough now to feel some arthritis, blahdy blah. And I'm sure I've bored you silly about what it's like to be me, feeling uncomfortable so many days/weeks/months in a row that pain is the new normal. And with that pain comes limitations, and with those limitations comes depression, and it all works together to disturb my sleep and wreck my life and pack on the pounds, etc. Poor me. (Poor YOU, more like it, reading about my aches and pains....)

So when a day dawns that's not normal, it's noticed in spades. James even noticed it. He'd laugh out loud for no reason and when I asked him what was so funny he'd say, "It's nothing. It's just that you're so happy." Was it that unusual? Apparently. All day long I felt like I was stuck in a Disney cartoon, with little bluebirds on my shoulders and everything.

But then later that night? BOOM! Serious sore throat. Sniffles, coughs, chills. Maybe it was all the pre-cold symptoms that had me dancing earlier. Maybe I was drunk with fever.... Or maybe I'd tempted Fate.... All I know is pain had found me again.

And since then it's been doing the Happydance....

:(

Granted, it all could be worse -- I've got some tricks up my sleeve now to deal with things like this that lay me low. And to my credit I've been able to continue the Neverending Studio Overhaul, allbeit in slow little bits.

But it still surprises me how hard it is, how different it is to recover from stuff now that I'm older. Now there are naps involved. Plural. And a lot of plain old shutting-down-and-taking-care-of-myself. It's not like the Old Days when I could just knock back some Dayquil and soldier on.

And just because I stop doesn't mean everything else does. Valentine's Day (one of my fave holidays) came and went and I did my best under the circumstances. And messages continue to pile up and go unanswered. Work remains undone. There are comments to acknowledge and 'belated happy birthdays' to wish. I look around and there are still boxes to unpack and sort. Cages to clean. Dishes to be put away. Olympic games to catch up on.... Bummer.

But all that will have to wait a bit longer. Because for right now it's tea and a book and a quilt and a cat.
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A Fragile-ish Day....

Today's a wear-my-clothes-inside-out kind of day. And a day with Soft Foods on the menu, so all the spiny bits inside me can slumber and not have to snap and stab at stuff going down....

It's the kind of day where I hope the sun goes behind a raincloud and thunder makes me turn off the computer. And the phone doesn't ring and no one comes to the door, not even the Schwann's man. Because I won't answer it. Not even for a free trial pint of butter brickle.

It's a day for big plushy headphones large and silly looking as coffee cans. And a hairstyle with no stuff in it, just 'down' with nary a barrette or a scrunchee or a comb in sight. And soft pale colors that don't shout. And only good smells: coffee, warm cinnamon, and the scent of cool rain on cedar chips wafting into an open window.... And only clouds to sit on, so all the parts of me that feel like they're made of coat hangers held together with barbed wire can relax without biting.

I need it to be that kind of a day. But it's not. It's just a regular one, with all the neighborhood noise and clothes like sandpaper, and poky things to sit on, and slippers that pinch.

And here's me with so much to do....
...