Voicelessness and Emotional Survival > Voicelessness and Emotional Survival Message Board
This and That
lighter:
Well..... there's going to be sand in my hair for a while. At least it shouldn't be too terribly hot....the summer is SO hot.
I'm going native.....bug'n sun is my perfume of the islands. I'll light an Amazon bonfire every once in a while, and pretend you guys can see it.
Lighter
lighter:
Rant warning:
Has anyone ever seen the movie SIGNS, with Mel Gibson as jaded, bitter ex clergyman?
Well, I'm one of the people who sees signs.
I'm wondering if the Universe is trying to tell me something in this moment, bc I cut my left index finger deeply yesterday, woke up last night feeling as though someone was driving an ice pick into the nail about 11:30pm, found the bottom of my fridge full of maple syrup first thing this morning, (remember Nanny McPhee II?)and then a small flood in laundry room and hallway bc washing machine malfunctioning. Again. This time repairman, who can't come till Monday, thinks it might be a seal. THis is a front loading Whirlpool Duet Sport, and the 3rd or 4th time I've had to call a repairman out over water leaks. The first leak was a pinhole in a drain tube, which meant things got very wet, and stayed wet for a while before I noticed a ROACH, which meant I panicked, and called out the bug man, and paid a lot of money for him to poison my house every month for a year, which ended a while ago. Roaches LOVE LOVE LOVE moisture, btw. The floors are wet again... soaked through. I wonder what the crawlspace looks like. Grrrr.
I feel like I'm moving through..... syrup, which was all over the two bottom shelves in the fridge, both veggie drawers then puddled at the bottom. I had to clean up sticky floor after cleaning the fridge, of course, bc there was some dripping of hot soapy vert syrupy water. I can't stand sticky floors... I get that from my dad. So. Much. Sticky.
Since I have all the beds stripped, and ready to go INTO the wash machine, which now has a dirty wet load of clothing in it, we're out of sorts from top to bottom...... I'm not even worried about knocking this finger open next week during Bahamas travel, catching an exotic bug, and losing that finger anymore, which was the top of my my priority list last night while I was wondering where allllll those unfinished bottles of painkillers over the past 20 years have ended up. I could FIND NOTHING of them. I never ever finish a painkiller Rx. Ever. I save them for when fingers get smashed or toenails get ripped out whole.... I just can't remember where I put them, and maybe they're here somewhere, but buried or in a box or on a shelf. BC we've entertained the idea of having troubled teens in the house, and bc we sometimes have normal teens in the house, I'm sure I've put them out of the way. Since I never need them I can't find them.
To top it off, I kept having flashbacks to post op days in hospital after 2nd dd's birth when my husband was stuping an employee at said hospital who told all the nursing staff I was a complaining bitch who would drive them crazy with demands so when the meds when the meds, that should have been flowing into my spine, were puddling under my bum, and the point where the little tube was wiggling around my spine hurt twice as much as my c section, with the nurses rolling their eyes at me while tossing over their shoulders I could give myself more medication when it was time...... while refusing to even check the epidural site..... I KNEW KNEw KnEW someone in that group was s******* my husband, and flat out asked one of them if it was her. Didn't help the cause, as you can imagine, but my point is..... I found the little bottle of liquid gold painkillers my sister brought me during that day, and I found relief in it, once again, to help with the finger. I have a very high tolerance for pain, btw. I honestly think the finger hurt as bad as the c section with wiggling around in me spine epidural. I don't know how that could be, but it was true.
If you want to know what the nurses face looked like when she found the puddle of meds under my bum in the hospital, while I went 24 hours post op sans any pain medication till my sister could find me some..... she looked gobsmacked, so sure was she that I was whining for more pain meds than I was allowed.
Almost done ranting, and the finger is feeling normal at this point, which I believe hurt badly last night bc I'd wrapped it tightly in two water proof bandages to close the wound..... there must have been pressure pulling the nail sideways bc it screamed me awake. I almost passed out twice getting the bandaids off. Only knocked it about twice today cleaning fridge..... so many little crevices, and the drawers and shelves a pain to move about, dont'cha know. Not what I needed, but I had no idea it would mess with my sleep, and drive me to the floor. Twice.
I intended to spend the day making lists, and packing the tools, and plumbing/electrical supplies purchased yesterday, but it's not happening. Syrup I tell'ya. I did not intended to walk over piles of dirty bedding, sopping wet towels, slipping into stripped beds I really really wanted to come home to and find clean at 10pm tonight after DD17s roller derby skating lessons. What could possibly go wrong there?
Please don't copy and paste any of this post, bc I'm sure I'll remove it later and don't want to have to remove the entire thread to make to make it go away.
OK..... I'll end this on a note of gratitude.... I got to hold a 6 month old baby today, and he was lovely. Next week he'll have a brand new out of the wrapper baby brother, adopted also, and I'm going to hold him like mad too. I know I'm a lucky dog. I know I'm blessed, but I can't help but feel I'm missing something really big, and the UNIVERSE is demanding I stop, and pay very close attention right now.
Lighter
Hopalong:
Oh my gosh, ((((Lighter))). What a series of horrors. And flashbacks.
I just have to say...one bug up my butt is when people are genuinely feeling real pain or freakout or trauma or anxiety, and they feel OBLIGATED to note: I'm blessed.
Of course you are. But still, just plain letting it rip about an awful series of days is fine on its own! You don't have to hold up a Zen card to let loose about all of that.
Jeez. It all sounds SUCKY. And though of course it will pass, you're entitled to just be UPSET!
love to you,
Hops
sKePTiKal:
My whole week's been this way Lighter. I'm still moaning & groaning about it too. I think it has something to do cosmic changes - astrology, polar shift, solar minimum - take your pick, there is a disturbance in the force and those of us sensitive to that tend to have this kind of so-called "luck" during those times.
It's just not possible to be stoic when everyday, THERE'S MORE.
lighter:
Ahhh.... picturing myself holding up the Zen card, so I can feel okk enough to get away with complaints. That's...
::sniff::..
So sad, Hops.
I m sitting in skate ring parking lot with youngest dd, who's breaking up with her bf. He can't take her NO without trying to change it into a YES. She's so wise, and quite done with him.
We were watching people skate bc the only electric outlet was facing the rink. Im mediately the older man I was already worrying about went down in front of me, across the rink. I mean.....he skeetched across the floor with his arms under him.....skeee eeee eee e eetch. I could tell he was hurt as he sat to cradle his arm. Then a young guy went down Uber hard right in front of me.....he was boney.... I heard them hit the floor. After crying a little I walked around to the old man, helped off the floor and got his skates off. He was grateful......also unable to bare weight with his right arm, but relatively sure it wasn't broken. All the while there were two clueless women trying to get him back out there......he was sticking by me.... leaving them again to move his arm in front if needed, and see if broken. I might have fainted if he said it was. The lady in white came and pulled him away. So. Weird.
That was all DD and I could take, so we're in the car...DD texting boy they're over. I know he's crying.
When I get home there's an icky smell in the laundry room....like a wet towel crawled behind the washer to die, which is a problem for me as I can't move the washer without blocking the door we use and it's heavy enough to hurt me if I move wrong. Third problem is I likely can't stop myself from pulling out washer to clean and find smell... I get that from paternal side of family.
:: Mindfully leaving gratitude out of this::..
Ouch.
Lighter
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