General Update – 23 July 2020

Rough day so far.
Autoimmune flare. Breathing is problematic. Pluerisy. Coughing. Shortness of breath. The only good thing about it is it makes my already sexy phone voice more husky, so possibly more sexy?

Immune system is being a shit and not letting things heal.
Anemia is manifesting, it was made worse with this last menstrual cycle. Heavy. Like elevator doors from The Shining. Clots. Flooding. Likely contributing to that air starved feeling.
Fighting a bladder infection that I initially thought was an International Cystitis flare. Second one I have had since I went into isolation. Fuck you Covid, for so many reasons.

Processing grief. Rummaged about in my Other Mum’s craft room and brought her serger sewing machine home. Also an encyclopedia on Needlework techniques. I feel like a thief. Her spirit insists I am not, and logically I know this. Grief is a bitch though. As is accepting and processing hard feelings.
Thank every God that has ever existed for therapy. I would be a royal mess right now without the skills I learnt in the last two years.

Tears. Lots of tears. Freely flowing. Which has been hard to come by the last few months. I may still hate crying but I have fully accepted how helpful it is for me in processing my emotions. Tears help your brain get rid of excess brain chemicals. ADHD means when I have emotions, of any kind, they are literally bigger. Higher levels of the brain chemicals associated with said emotions. So crying literally helps get rid of the emotions I am processing.

I get to wear my new shirt though. I don’t ever want to take it off. Made it with my bestie, yesterday. Favourite style of shirt, thanks to my other bestie for picking it out, AND camo print. Totally my jam. Witches. Pretty ladies. Red. Sparkles. Deliciousness. It’s seriously the best.

“Do You Want To Live Deliciously?”

Since solids are problematic before noon I made my version of bullet-proof coffee. Ups the calories. Lactose-free 10% coffee cream heated in the microwave, a tablespoon of butter, froth with an Aerolatte for as long as I can stand it. Pour into coffee. Add cinnamon. Stir. Enjoy. Delicious. Self-care. It is a lot of steps though so my executive function isn’t always feeling up to it.

The kiddo’s put the new She-ra on again so that’s fantastic.
I have also been unintentionally off of my psych meds for a week now. Issues with the pharmacy and clinic communicating about my refill. Currently awaiting a phone call from the clinic to get the refill sent to the pharmacy. Bleh.

Mother’s Day 2020

Thank you to all the self identified Mother’s out there, for EVERYTHING that you do. Often it is most of our work isn’t noticed, let alone recognized.

Thank you to the birth-givers on this day, if Mother is not your preferred title.

Thank you to all the Mothers of all kinds on this day. Regardless of where your babies come from or what species they are. Nurturing another soul is precious and divine work.

To those whose Mothers, and or children are are no longer in physical form, I see you. I hear you. I hold space for you.

To those whose Mothers were horrible, or awful, or non-existent in their lives, I see you. I hear you. I hold space for you.

Since I became a Mother, this day has always been hard. My first Mother’s Day was spent in deep mourning for the babe I had lost. This day, more than anything, makes me think of him. This year is compounded with the loss of my “other” Mom last year. This is the first one without her. Her birthday is tomorrow. Her death anniversary in late June. My own Mother had a very bad health scare last week. Not being able to get together and celebrate like we usually do is just awful icing on this shitty cake.

I am eternally grateful to the Universe for the babies that lived, who brighten every day of my life. I look forward to my annual offering of a live orchid. I look forward to seeing my Mom and thanking her for all she has done and continues to do for me. I am extremely thankful that I can go see her for a few minutes and give her a hug. Particularly in the middle of a global pandemic.*

My love goes out to everyone really, on this day. Our Mother’s, present or absent, are HUGE forces in our lives. May your day be as peaceful and pleasant as it can be.

*For clarity, we are being extremely careful with physical contact. Our risk factors are extremely low, and we must balance social distancing with our mental health.

Heat Wave and Disappointments

Ugh. That is the word of the day. It’s hot, we are having a heat wave this weekend. Highs in the 30C area, at night it’s about 15-20C. Wreaks havoc with my chronic illness. The kids had a rough week, the older is still having sleeping/eating/meltdown issues as well as teething (he lost his first tooth and the adult tooth replacing it is coming in fast), the younger is teething and growing so eating and waking a lot. My Mom brought me her old mobility scooter now that we’ve moved and have the space to store it, that’s been very helpful. It helped me get out to see her yesterday for her birthday. It’s now been a week since my surgery, healing is slow as I expected it to be (there’s a whole post in the works for that). I’m having issues getting up and down the stairs today. We got a good walk in though to loosen things up. There is a family gathering tonight that I completely forgot about that we aren’t going to. This has upset people greatly. I hate how taking care of myself leads to unhappiness and disappointment in others, let alone myself. I’m enjoying the time with my husband and kids today but I’m really unhappy about people being unhappy with me for taking care of myself. Well they aren’t unhappy with me personally, at least I hope not. Just sad about the situation. Thing is this same person gives me crap for not getting enough rest and self care and whatnot. Just feels like I can’t make anyone happy, least of all myself.
I’m seriously considering medication for depression again. Probably Wellbutrin since it will help with the smoking. I also need something for my Fibromyalgia, and need to discuss my worsening joint pain and such. My rheumatologist moved my May appointment to August. It will be almost a year between appointments. I am not pleased with my current quality of care. I can’t even find a family doctor close to my new home, I don’t think finding a new rheumatologist is going to be any easier. I need a vacation from life or something. 

Fear and Loathing

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So I shared this meme today on my Facebook page. An acquaintance asked why do it then, as in why hate my body. I answered that I can’t help it sometimes. I’ve waxed all philosophical about it and decided I needed to write an actual blog post about it. As the title alludes to, there is a lot of fear and loathing involved in my relationship with my body. It’s never been an overly healthy thing. That’s the toss up for hopping out of the womb three months early and surviving, I guess. I caught pneumonia for the first time at one week old. For all the sickness I had as a child, none of it was a disability. My body generally worked, my immune system was just crappy. I think I was seven or eight the first time my knees started to ache. Younger for the first angry colon/bladder incidents. It still wasn’t until I was thirteen or fourteen where things really started to fall apart. I remember trying out for track and field at my new elementary school, having just moved to Surrey. As I sprinted across the field, fully expecting my legs to piston as always regardless of pain, the first real fear moment struck. It didn’t hurt a lot, my knee just refused to take my weight, and into the gravel I went. It would take a few years of debilitating knee pain for the loathing to start. When your body hurts every day, for no particular reason, you eventually start feeling pissy with it. This acquaintance, like a lot of people who don’t live with chronic pain, says I always have a choice in how I view my body. In reality, I really don’t. Chronic illness and pain do a number on the brain chemistry. So while sometimes I can pull myself out of the more, a lot of the time I can’t.