
You thought it was going to be a positive pee stick or ultrasound image, didn't you?

You thought it was going to be a positive pee stick or ultrasound image, didn't you?
Mornings are the hardest. I've always had vivid and terrifying dreams. They haven't been as bad as they used to, R says I don't kick and punch him as much as I used to, but I still wake up screaming sometimes.
Or wanting to scream. I've been having more episodes of "sleep paralysis". That is more terrifying than any bad dream. The first time it happened, I literally thought that I was being controlled by a demon. I felt like I was being dragged off the bed, and there was absolutely nothing I could do. I couldn't talk, I couldn't even breathe on my own (since it was still being regulated by my body in sleep mode). I was still breathing, but at the pace of a person asleep, but I was freaking out because I thought I was being dragged off the bed (I wasn't) and wanted to breathe faster and scream but I couldn't. It was literally like being trapped in my own body. Abso-fucking-lutely hands down the most terrifying thing I've ever experienced (and I've been through and seen some scary stuff. Just yesterday I witnessed a car crash(es) for the first time. Not one, but two separate crashes happened within feet of me yesterday).
This morning I woke up disoriented and dizzy to the point of nausea. That's what the nightmares do. I tripped and almost fell backwards onto the window seat in our bedroom. Scariest thing was the window was wide open. It was a particularly bad morning anxiety wise. I couldn't find anything and ended up waking R to help me. I hate doing this because he needs his sleep and I wake up so much earlier than he does and sometimes he can't go back to sleep if he wakes up early.
Mom is still not improving. They think her stomach may be paralyzed. Somehow she had forgotten that I was diagnosed with gastroparesis as well 4 years ago. She went with me to all the tests and doctor's appointments but still she doesn't remember. I think she was too wrapped up in the divorce. When I reminded her that I too have had the same problem (though I believe mine stems from psychosomatic syndrome more than anything else) she completely flipped out, and is hounding me to the point of tears about it. I have it under control. I've tried to tell her this. I'm on the very small side, weight wise, but my BMI is still in the healthy-ish range. I'd like to gain weight, but I haven't been able to so far. But hey, I'm not going to complain about having a naturally amazing body. Just sayin
Her birthday is today. Her parents informed us yesterday that they were on their way up here. I love my grandparents, but I was actually looking forward to spending a quiet weekend alone now that R can go back to work. It will be my first real weekend to myself since he fell 5 weeks ago. Since then whenever I've been home I'm constantly fetching things for him, or trying to keep up the house and animals all by myself. I'm tired. I got irritated over constantly having to do everything for everybody, and no one doing anything for me (so incredibly selfish I know, but I'm just a human bean after all). I told R what I'd love more than anything is a special getaway for just me, get a nice hotel, be pampered a bit, have someone bring me chocolate and strawberries, but more than anything, be alone, to just sit and read or watch a movie or whatever I felt like. I feel like I've deserved a special "all about me" day. I'm general a very unselfish person, so I don't feel like I'm being unreasonable for just wanting a day for "me". Maybe I'll get one some day, but I probably won't. I've been in non-stop crisis response mode for months now. Seems like every time I catch my breath, someone else or something else is falling apart, and it's up to me to either fix it or stem the flow. It's tiring! Especially with my difficulty with dealing with high amounts of stress over a long amount of time. I snapped a couple of weeks ago, which I know most people know, since I didn't do anything to hide it.
I want to go back to therapy but that is not an option right now. I've shouldered all the bills and financing all summer since R was out of commission for most of it, and since my co-pay is $60 a session it's just too expensive. We have been couch diving for change just to get food for the animals, much less ourselves. Each of our parents are dealing with their own issues (R's dad and his finger, and my mom and her post-surgery complications) so we've been semi-forgotten about. Since everyone is obviously dealing with major things, I don't want to add to it by begging for money. I'm glad I had the small savings that I did ($1k, but it was just the right amount but now it's gone and I feel vulnerable). I don't even know if R realizes how broke we are. I'm trying not to worry him so much either since he is just now able to walk and is trying to work as much as he can, but the other day he only made $8.
$8 was all we had to our name that night. Thankfully he did better yesterday. It's nice that when he goes and works, he comes home with his wages the same day (he's a server trainer at P.F. Chang's), but days like that are just devastating. I was actually able to put in a fair amount of hours so my paycheck this weekend should be enough to cover bills with a little extra left over for food and other things we need (yay!!). My grandparents called and said they are going to send money, but it hasn't come yet. Even if it doesn't it means a lot that they thought about us.
But enough of my complaining for now. I just needed to vent. We're all alive, and breathing, the sun is out, the world will keep on spinning, it'll work out in the end. I'm just tired, and I wish for once in my life, that I could be pulled off the court, and benched for a few minutes. But until then, I'll keep up the hustle with all I got.
I cannot take credit for this. It was posted by a friend of mine of Facebook, but it sums up precisely my feelings for this day.
"When you remember 9/11 today, don't just mourn the lives lost on those planes and in those towers, but remember the horrible events following the attack. Remember the deep seeded hate that was born in so many Americans towards innocent individuals based on their religious beliefs or geographic location or even skin color. Remember the fear based legislation that was passed, which took away many rights to privacy and power based in the people. Remember the wars that were fought for ridiculous reasons and remember all the innocent lives lost in the conflict.
If one only remembers the day those planes hit, then we are doomed to repeat the same mistakes when the next terror attack inevitably occurs sometime in the, hopefully distant, future of this nation. If we are to truly evolve as a society and better prepare ourselves for future attacks, we need to look at what was done wrong following the attacks so that we may react to future attacks in a logical and thoughtful way.
We do not honor the dead by creating wars and encouraging hate. We do not honor the dead by committing war crimes over seas in the name of their deaths. We do not honor the dead by robbing the people of their rights based on emotion-based legislature. We do not honor the dead by instilling terror in innocent people in the name of fighting terror.
We honor the dead by reaching out to others and fostering cooperation and peace between nations. Lets build a better world in the name of those who had their time cut short so that they can look down to the Earth, wherever they are, and see that people no longer have to senselessly meet the end as they did.
And that's all I really have to say about this day."
I love it when people betray my trust and tell my biological father where I am currently living AND my phone number, after trying for 3 years to stay the fuck away from him and have nothing to do with him. For once in my life I felt safe, and now that's all taken away.
I love it when the pharmacy decides to withhold the majority of my medication and give me only ONE dose (this is medication that if I don't take RIGHT ON TIME I get very, very sick. I'm 14 hours late and can barely stand) JUST BECAUSE I WAS 3 CENTS SHORT OF MY $5 CO-PAY.
To make it better, I spent 10 min scouring the parking lot for any change. I begged for change, and now I have to go back when I get THREE FUCKING CENTS to get the rest of my medication.
I love how I can be grossly over charged, yet there is nothing the doctor or the bank can do about it. So now for the next 5-7 business days I am $100+ overdrawn, and I don't even have enough change to make it home for the tolls, much less the gas to take a non-toll road, or eat, or you know, exist.
I feel sick. I'm scared. I hurt. I'm tired. I'm so, so tired.
Don't worry though, I'll pull through, somehow. I'm too stubborn to let these dipshits win without getting to beat them within an inch of their life first.
Lesson learned. Trust no one, and never be short 3 cents at a pharmacy.
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