I am still not feeling well. I have a new medication that I can't remember the name of but I keep wanting to call it Gympie Gympie. I'm not thrilled to have another pill in my pill sorter. At the same time, if it works to bring my blood sugar down and get my pancreas working properly, I'll take the hit to my pride. I haven't much of a choice, to be honest. My vision is still awful. I 'hacked' my eyeballs by adding a pair of reading glasses to my normal glasses. I can see almost normally this way, if I look through the part of the glasses that is specifically for reading and close up work. Along with the vision being off kilter, I'm having a constant headache.
Apparently this is because high blood sugar sucks water out of other parts of your body, like your eyes and ears. So, my eyes are literally shriveling up because my blood sugar is high. It was only slightly less horrifying and repulsive to type than it was to hear the description. The solution to this is drink tons of water, exercise, and eat protein. I'm doing my best to get that going. I'm presently taking a break to let lunch get into my system before I do my afternoon exercises. I'd be walking right now but it is raining and I can't see across the room. Going out for a walk wouldn't be the best idea under these conditions.
I am trying to make sense of food options. This has been nothing but confusion. I think I've got some answers now. I'm not entirely sure what I can do to make my diet changes work for the kids and their food issues. Dan's willing to work with me and give making the diet changes a try. Our goal is for me not to have to make three separate meals when ever I am cooking. I already have several days where I am making two. It's hard to find the energy to fight the kids over what they're going to eat for dinner when I know that the food is going to be a change to their routine.
Adjusting to a new routine is going to be the hard part here. My mealtimes just got more regimented. This is less because of the fact that the people who are handling my care advised it and more because I have enough self-awareness to realize that if I restrict my diet and don't make sure I am eating regularly, I'm going to start starving myself. That's what started off the almost anorexic thing when I was a kid, restricting my diet. It's been a hard two weeks because I am very strongly tempted to just starve myself.
I'm not sure how I'm going to keep that at bay long term. I am pretty sure that a practice of prepping meals to correct measurements and eating at regular times every day is going to go a long way towards helping me not starve myself. The stress levels thing, however, is a different problem to solve. Again, I am hoping that the changes I'm making activity-wise are going to help with that. If you're tired from exercising, it's hard to get the energy to do stupid things.
roses
Thursday, April 12, 2018
Monday, April 09, 2018
Stupid diabetes, die in a fire.
It was a rough weekend. Hell, last week was rough. The kids were on break and I was trying to act as normal as possible. They are of mixed feelings about my having to check my blood sugar regularly. The eldest still feels that blood is disgusting. However, they both find the tech that is the meter pretty cool. The youngest wants to have one because he thinks it is awesome and wants to 'measure how much blood' he has. They have noticed, however, things like I didn't have the same thing for dinner as them most of the time or I was eating less than usual.
It's pretty frustrating. I am trying to figure out how much of what equals a correct portion size for me. I think I'm going to need Beloved to copy pages out of this cookbook I signed out from the library to give me a guide on this. Because I have gone to websites, the booklet they gave me at the doctor's office, and off of what the packages read. Between all of them (including the cookbook), I get different numbers. I'm going around hungry all the time and doing my best to ignore it. About when I am successful, it is time to eat a meal. Then I am eating like I am starving, though I am carefully measuring out servings and limiting them. I just wolf them down. After that, I have to force myself not to eat more.
I'm going back to old habits and some of those habits are not good for me. One of them is if I feel hungry and it isn't meal time, have a drink of some sort. I've been drinking lots of water. I allow myself a snack between meals but it is approximately in the middle of the times between meals and it is a struggle not to inhale the food. I'm finding myself making my portion sizes smaller and smaller. You'd say that was a good thing, except if I keep this up I'll fall back into the semi-anorexic eating habits I had when I was younger.
The constant hunger is already enough to evoke a pretty consistent state of mild dissociation. I find myself struggling with the urge to 'sneak eat' food and feeling guilty when I do eat a meal. I was going to go over all of this and the stress of it all with my therapist tomorrow. There is one additional problem, however, my vision has gone funny. I have the screen set to 200% increased font sizes and I'm still dealing with blurry vision unless I'm looking through the portion of my bifocals with higher correction. I can't drive when I can't see across the room.
Looking across the street out my window, the houses across the way where I usually can see siding are a solid color and the tree branches are blurry. It's not because the window or my glasses are dirty. It's a new development over the last week. And it scares me. I tell myself that if I can be patient, Wednesday we will have some answers and a plan of action. It's hard to believe that right now, even though it is the truth.
I'd be marveling at how fast this is happening, but I think I know what's going on. I think my pancreas is just trying its hardest to produce enough insulin and effective insulin but it's taken too much of a beating from being on antipsychotics and a host of other medications for my mental health issues. Throw into the mix I have problems with insulin resistance due to PCOS, a history of gestational prediabetes, and a family history of diabetes, and it was just a time bomb waiting to go off. I just thought I had ten more years before this happened.
I just find myself hoping that we get this under control. And that the health insurance company will cover whatever the doctor prescribes. Along with the hope that we can afford it. I already am concerned that the cost of testing strips and lancets is going to be a problem. Anxiety is a bitch. Because all of this has my anxiety all over the place, kinda like my blood sugar, it's constantly high but it swings between near panic attacks and that state of you're so anxious that you're apparently calm.
It's pretty frustrating. I am trying to figure out how much of what equals a correct portion size for me. I think I'm going to need Beloved to copy pages out of this cookbook I signed out from the library to give me a guide on this. Because I have gone to websites, the booklet they gave me at the doctor's office, and off of what the packages read. Between all of them (including the cookbook), I get different numbers. I'm going around hungry all the time and doing my best to ignore it. About when I am successful, it is time to eat a meal. Then I am eating like I am starving, though I am carefully measuring out servings and limiting them. I just wolf them down. After that, I have to force myself not to eat more.
I'm going back to old habits and some of those habits are not good for me. One of them is if I feel hungry and it isn't meal time, have a drink of some sort. I've been drinking lots of water. I allow myself a snack between meals but it is approximately in the middle of the times between meals and it is a struggle not to inhale the food. I'm finding myself making my portion sizes smaller and smaller. You'd say that was a good thing, except if I keep this up I'll fall back into the semi-anorexic eating habits I had when I was younger.
The constant hunger is already enough to evoke a pretty consistent state of mild dissociation. I find myself struggling with the urge to 'sneak eat' food and feeling guilty when I do eat a meal. I was going to go over all of this and the stress of it all with my therapist tomorrow. There is one additional problem, however, my vision has gone funny. I have the screen set to 200% increased font sizes and I'm still dealing with blurry vision unless I'm looking through the portion of my bifocals with higher correction. I can't drive when I can't see across the room.
Looking across the street out my window, the houses across the way where I usually can see siding are a solid color and the tree branches are blurry. It's not because the window or my glasses are dirty. It's a new development over the last week. And it scares me. I tell myself that if I can be patient, Wednesday we will have some answers and a plan of action. It's hard to believe that right now, even though it is the truth.
I'd be marveling at how fast this is happening, but I think I know what's going on. I think my pancreas is just trying its hardest to produce enough insulin and effective insulin but it's taken too much of a beating from being on antipsychotics and a host of other medications for my mental health issues. Throw into the mix I have problems with insulin resistance due to PCOS, a history of gestational prediabetes, and a family history of diabetes, and it was just a time bomb waiting to go off. I just thought I had ten more years before this happened.
I just find myself hoping that we get this under control. And that the health insurance company will cover whatever the doctor prescribes. Along with the hope that we can afford it. I already am concerned that the cost of testing strips and lancets is going to be a problem. Anxiety is a bitch. Because all of this has my anxiety all over the place, kinda like my blood sugar, it's constantly high but it swings between near panic attacks and that state of you're so anxious that you're apparently calm.
Thursday, April 05, 2018
Wait, wut?
Only thirty posts to 1k posts? Damn, that's motivation right there! Now it's 29 posts. Next task, work on my planner and then a few pages on revisions to prep an eBook for publication. I'll post more about the eBook thing later. Right now, I'm getting a headache so I should drink some water and eat some sort of light snack.
Cold-brewed Chai Coffee.
 |
| Rocking the vintage 90s floral and chemistry mug! |
Today, I am drinking chai coffee. This did not involve adding a tea bag of chai spiced tea to the pot. In the press with the coffee grounds, I added 6 cardamom pods lightly crushed, a 1/4 teaspoon of garam marsala, and a generous pinch of anise. (If you are keeping score, you may recall I have a loathing for the flavor of black licorice, which is derived from anise.) I then filled the press with cold water and let it steep over night.
In the morning, viola! Cold coffee with some flavor. I forgot how well cardamom plays with coffee. I was surprised to find that the anise added a floral note that wasn't overly sweet. That cloying sweetness has always been my problem with licorice.
On the health front, I'm still trying to figure out what the hell I'm doing. My dosage of metformin has been doubled, again, because of how high my blood sugar numbers are. I've been told that the diet I have been following is really healthy for someone with diabetes and given a few suggestions on how to improve it when I was on the phone with the care coordinator for my doctor's office. She said that my efforts to work on daily exercise and yoga can only help. She actually said that she was impressed with how much I was doing before the diabetes diagnosis and that it was likely the reason why I wasn't worse off.
I got a gentle 'it may be your pancreas can't produce enough insulin' when I inquired if there was anything more I could do. I call that a soft 'if you don't respond to the metformin, we're going to have to give you insulin because your insurance company are dicks and not approving the medication we wanted you on to begin with.' I am resigned to this and realize that the damage to my pancreas is due to being on multiple antipsychotic medications for the last eight years. (At various times on two different ones at the same time.) Put that together with established insulin resistance and gestational pre-diabetes, it was just a time bomb.
Did yoga today before the weather hit. I think this was a good thing because my joints are really not happy right now. I did my walking in the apartment because it's 31 degrees F out there. As I was walking, I did my arm exercises with the super light free weights we've got. Tomorrow, I'll be wearing the ankle weights as I walk indoors. Now I'm watching the kids 'clean' as I type this and debate just how exactly I'm going to manage dinner. It's not entirely a case of making three meals for dinner, but it feels like that. Yay anxiety.
Tuesday, April 03, 2018
WTF IS THIS?!
Last Friday, that's the Friday before the chocolate extravaganza known as Easter, I got diagnosed with diabetes. I've been in low key panic since then. Putting together the menu and the shopping list for this week caused a legit panic attack. I've been keeping a food log in a more disciplined and detailed fashion over the last several days.
This includes how much water I drink, as exact amounts of what I eat at what times, and my blood sugar levels before and two hours after eating. I have also dramatically changed what I eat. Where this time last week I was eating a big bowl of oatmeal in the morning with a handful of walnuts, raisins, and a generous portion of maple syrup, this morning I had a half cup of oatmeal with a few dozen chopped walnuts on top and some sugar substitute. My blood sugar was still obnoxiously high, but not as bad as it would have been if I ate the same breakfast as last Tuesday.
I always knew the risk for diabetes was there. I honestly was expecting it to happen at some point. But I thought that point was about ten years down the road. I also was very frustrated because I have been putting in a lot of work over the last year to change my diet to something healthier and get more exercise. My doctor said that this is the reason why I am not far worse off. It was only vaguely reassuring.
They're stressing diet and exercise. I understand this. At the same time, I can't help the panic that I have because diet and exercise didn't prevent it from happening. I'm on a higher dosage of metformin now. I'm titrating up to a more effective level for someone with type 2 diabetes. They were going to put me on to an additional medication to help my body make more effective insulin. The health insurance company denied me. The doctor's office argued with them. They still said no.
So, I'm here trying to figure out what I can eat. I'm honestly terrified right now that if I screw up I'm going to die. I am also afraid that all of this business with food logging and tracking blood sugar is going to reboot my latent tendencies toward anorexia. I've struggled today with hunger pains and forcing myself not to eat. It was too familiar and distressing.
On top of all this, my post-traumatic stress disorder is acting up with emotional flashbacks at random moments because times of hunger when I am not 'allowed' to eat are triggers. It wasn't good in my youth. Testing my blood sugar in public yesterday when my youngest had a dentist appointment was equally distressing. I'm not entirely sure how to handle this. To say the least, this will be coming up when I go to my therapy appointment next week.
And I'm attempting Camp NaNoWriMo this year.
This includes how much water I drink, as exact amounts of what I eat at what times, and my blood sugar levels before and two hours after eating. I have also dramatically changed what I eat. Where this time last week I was eating a big bowl of oatmeal in the morning with a handful of walnuts, raisins, and a generous portion of maple syrup, this morning I had a half cup of oatmeal with a few dozen chopped walnuts on top and some sugar substitute. My blood sugar was still obnoxiously high, but not as bad as it would have been if I ate the same breakfast as last Tuesday.
I always knew the risk for diabetes was there. I honestly was expecting it to happen at some point. But I thought that point was about ten years down the road. I also was very frustrated because I have been putting in a lot of work over the last year to change my diet to something healthier and get more exercise. My doctor said that this is the reason why I am not far worse off. It was only vaguely reassuring.
They're stressing diet and exercise. I understand this. At the same time, I can't help the panic that I have because diet and exercise didn't prevent it from happening. I'm on a higher dosage of metformin now. I'm titrating up to a more effective level for someone with type 2 diabetes. They were going to put me on to an additional medication to help my body make more effective insulin. The health insurance company denied me. The doctor's office argued with them. They still said no.
So, I'm here trying to figure out what I can eat. I'm honestly terrified right now that if I screw up I'm going to die. I am also afraid that all of this business with food logging and tracking blood sugar is going to reboot my latent tendencies toward anorexia. I've struggled today with hunger pains and forcing myself not to eat. It was too familiar and distressing.
On top of all this, my post-traumatic stress disorder is acting up with emotional flashbacks at random moments because times of hunger when I am not 'allowed' to eat are triggers. It wasn't good in my youth. Testing my blood sugar in public yesterday when my youngest had a dentist appointment was equally distressing. I'm not entirely sure how to handle this. To say the least, this will be coming up when I go to my therapy appointment next week.
And I'm attempting Camp NaNoWriMo this year.
Friday, March 23, 2018
It all started with hamburger buns.
You know your week is going to be surreal when you buy a package of hamburger buns and discover that they're now hot dog rolls when you get them out. Receipt said hamburger buns. Cashier commented on how hamburgers sounded awesome and they were due for a lunch break. They WERE hamburger buns. Then, by way of mysterious forces, they became hot dog rolls. And my 8 year old son was most upset that we were having hamburgers for dinner Monday night instead of hot dogs.
Tuesday was deceptively normal and almost dull. I actually got a bunch of things done now that my ribs are well enough I can go grocery shopping or lift a bag of laundry. Wednesday was busy. Monday and Wednesday were dentist visits for the boys. The orthodontist said that we're doing well with the spacer for Cuddle Bear. Then Snuggle Bug had his visit with the regular dentist for a cleaning and did awesome. The only problem that he had was the fact that he couldn't quite figure out how to play Super Mario on their game system for the kids in the waiting room.
Wednesday was a day that Beloved's brother came to visit. That was nice too. It was good to have tea and chat about pretty much everything. I told him the secret to Apple Pie Moonshine. He was thrilled. And then I made the best damn roast chicken I have so far. If you are going to roast your chicken, do it on top of sweet potatoes. It was AMAZING! And seriously put some cilantro inside the bird. It didn't come out tasting like soap at all. (To me, cooked cilantro tastes like soap, fresh not so much. Beloved enjoys the stuff, so I try to make things with it from time to time. I used the leftovers from making Mexican rice to go with the tacos on Tuesday.)
Yesterday is just a blur. I don't really remember much of the day because I slept for about half of it. Wednesday night, I had a migraine that lasted through the night and partly into Thursday morning. So, part of my sense of time being off is because of that. I woke up from my nap Thursday thinking it was Friday, next week.
Today was pretty quiet. I haven't been as productive on the writing front as I want to be. But I did get a bunch of housework, a scarf, and some mending done. So, I wasn't completely wasting my day. Aside from that, I have no discovered that my body aches in more places since my fall in January when the weather changes. I'm not really thrilled with this development. It'd be easier if it wasn't my ribs.
Tuesday was deceptively normal and almost dull. I actually got a bunch of things done now that my ribs are well enough I can go grocery shopping or lift a bag of laundry. Wednesday was busy. Monday and Wednesday were dentist visits for the boys. The orthodontist said that we're doing well with the spacer for Cuddle Bear. Then Snuggle Bug had his visit with the regular dentist for a cleaning and did awesome. The only problem that he had was the fact that he couldn't quite figure out how to play Super Mario on their game system for the kids in the waiting room.
Wednesday was a day that Beloved's brother came to visit. That was nice too. It was good to have tea and chat about pretty much everything. I told him the secret to Apple Pie Moonshine. He was thrilled. And then I made the best damn roast chicken I have so far. If you are going to roast your chicken, do it on top of sweet potatoes. It was AMAZING! And seriously put some cilantro inside the bird. It didn't come out tasting like soap at all. (To me, cooked cilantro tastes like soap, fresh not so much. Beloved enjoys the stuff, so I try to make things with it from time to time. I used the leftovers from making Mexican rice to go with the tacos on Tuesday.)
Yesterday is just a blur. I don't really remember much of the day because I slept for about half of it. Wednesday night, I had a migraine that lasted through the night and partly into Thursday morning. So, part of my sense of time being off is because of that. I woke up from my nap Thursday thinking it was Friday, next week.
Today was pretty quiet. I haven't been as productive on the writing front as I want to be. But I did get a bunch of housework, a scarf, and some mending done. So, I wasn't completely wasting my day. Aside from that, I have no discovered that my body aches in more places since my fall in January when the weather changes. I'm not really thrilled with this development. It'd be easier if it wasn't my ribs.
Tuesday, March 13, 2018
no menu this week
It's chaos! Chaos is on the menu!
Well, no, not really. I'm just too lazy to get it off the fridge and type it up. Monday was burger night as per usual. Today was taco night, as per ususal. I think tomorrow will be some kind of casserole that the kids will actually eat. Thursday is just random whatever I throw together. I've kinda given up on a theme for that day this week. I was going to make sweet and sour pork roast but hubby got a bbq pork loin roast so, I guess that's what's for dinner.
My mood is fluctuating. I think it is because I'm in pain right now. The weather shifted and my back hurts. Time change didn't really do me any favors either, to be honest. I'm kinda dreading my therapy appointment tomorrow. At the same time, however, I know it is good and necessary. So I'm not going to call off, unless the weather is so bad they cancel school. I doubt that will happen, though.
Well, no, not really. I'm just too lazy to get it off the fridge and type it up. Monday was burger night as per usual. Today was taco night, as per ususal. I think tomorrow will be some kind of casserole that the kids will actually eat. Thursday is just random whatever I throw together. I've kinda given up on a theme for that day this week. I was going to make sweet and sour pork roast but hubby got a bbq pork loin roast so, I guess that's what's for dinner.
My mood is fluctuating. I think it is because I'm in pain right now. The weather shifted and my back hurts. Time change didn't really do me any favors either, to be honest. I'm kinda dreading my therapy appointment tomorrow. At the same time, however, I know it is good and necessary. So I'm not going to call off, unless the weather is so bad they cancel school. I doubt that will happen, though.
Sunday, March 11, 2018
So tired of this.
I'm not well. I'm tired of not being well. I'm frustrated and angry with the situation. But I'm emotionally exhausted because of the situation. So I find myself just staring numbly at things.
On the plus side, however, I have more energy and more days are 5/10 of late. I think I may finally be on the upswing out of the depression. Now if my ribs could just be healed up already and my joints stop hating me.
On the plus side, however, I have more energy and more days are 5/10 of late. I think I may finally be on the upswing out of the depression. Now if my ribs could just be healed up already and my joints stop hating me.
Sunday, February 25, 2018
Nope, still not better yet.
When I saw the doctor a few weeks ago, he and I agreed that if I wasn't feeling better I should come back in. It was about my fall in January. We figured it was a 50% chance that I had bruised my ribs or fractured one. Deciding that since the course of treatment was the same either way, I didn't go for x-rays. So, here I am at the point when I should be feeling healthy and hale, in moderate pain with out Aleve and it gets worse when I work the muscles on my right side. Lifting a full gallon of milk is uncomfortable but anything more still hurts.
I guess I fractured something. I have a follow up appointment scheduled on the 6th. This will be one of the things I bring up. I'm rather vexed because it is difficult to go about my daily tasks with only my off hand for heavy work. You can't lift a basin full of water with just one hand and pour it effectively. Well, you could pour it but have no control over it. Laundry is just in bags about because lifting and moving it around is really hard unless I am doing a few items at a time.
I'm frustrated and feeling like I'm not doing enough. I am in that situation my tarot cards warned me about in December. I am the Hanged Man and the 5 of Swords. I'm in a point of stasis and it is driving me half mad with boredom. To top it off, I am struggling to focus enough to get things done because I keep getting distracted by all the other stuff that NEEDS to get done. (Emphasis by my anxiety.)
So, what do you do when you can't keep fighting? I guess it is surrender or attack in the opposite direction. But retreat isn't exactly an option here. I suppose it is surrender. One of the few benefits out of this mess is that my posture has improved. The only way I am comfortable is if I sit or stand with a properly erect spine. I can only lie on my left side, which has helped some with the heartburn issues, I guess. I can't do my morning yoga and, strangely, I miss it. I can't go walking of late between the weather and discovering that if I have to use my cane for a significant period of time, my ribs hurt. (My knees have been really bad this week.)
I know there's some kind of lesson here. I'm not sure exactly how to apply it or just what it is. Fighting this and attempting to be a stoic about it all is just causing real pain here. So, I'm going to stop doing that. I don't know what to do, though. This is all very disconcerting for so many reasons.
I guess I fractured something. I have a follow up appointment scheduled on the 6th. This will be one of the things I bring up. I'm rather vexed because it is difficult to go about my daily tasks with only my off hand for heavy work. You can't lift a basin full of water with just one hand and pour it effectively. Well, you could pour it but have no control over it. Laundry is just in bags about because lifting and moving it around is really hard unless I am doing a few items at a time.
I'm frustrated and feeling like I'm not doing enough. I am in that situation my tarot cards warned me about in December. I am the Hanged Man and the 5 of Swords. I'm in a point of stasis and it is driving me half mad with boredom. To top it off, I am struggling to focus enough to get things done because I keep getting distracted by all the other stuff that NEEDS to get done. (Emphasis by my anxiety.)
So, what do you do when you can't keep fighting? I guess it is surrender or attack in the opposite direction. But retreat isn't exactly an option here. I suppose it is surrender. One of the few benefits out of this mess is that my posture has improved. The only way I am comfortable is if I sit or stand with a properly erect spine. I can only lie on my left side, which has helped some with the heartburn issues, I guess. I can't do my morning yoga and, strangely, I miss it. I can't go walking of late between the weather and discovering that if I have to use my cane for a significant period of time, my ribs hurt. (My knees have been really bad this week.)
I know there's some kind of lesson here. I'm not sure exactly how to apply it or just what it is. Fighting this and attempting to be a stoic about it all is just causing real pain here. So, I'm going to stop doing that. I don't know what to do, though. This is all very disconcerting for so many reasons.
Tuesday, February 13, 2018
Tide Pods and other noxious things.
I promised you a rant on the Tide pod challenge. It is part of the reason why I have been avoiding social media. There has been quite a few people posting memes about this. I recognize gallows humor. It stopped being funny a while ago, but the memes keep happening. The kids keep doing this and dying. It sickens me to see people laughing about children dying due to social pressure. That's what's driving the Tide pod challenge and a lot of the other assinine challenges out there. Similar things went on when I was that age. It didn't spread as quickly but it was still a thing and people did stupidly dangerous things to prove they were part of the crowd.
However, those stupidly dangerous things weren't lethal. Those stupidly dangerous things weren't being broadcasted for the whole world to watch. This would be like watching a group of kids playing russian roulette with an actual firearm, not a nerf gun, and when the likes for the feed hits a critical number, they load another bullet for the lulz. I carefully monitor my children's access to the internet to keep them away from this kind of garbage because they are the kids who'd be pressured into it due to how much they want to be friends with everybody. How many other children don't have parents who are able to do this for them? What of that number have died or been severely injured due to stuff like the Tide pod challenge? I'd lay odds that a good number of the dead and injured due to this meme are ones that their parents thought that Youtube was harmless.
The Tide pod challenge isn't the only thing that bothers me about popular memes right now. There's some stupid ones out there. That's not really a problem as much of an annoyance. But the memes that make fun of people with autism or treats people with mental disability as though they are subhuman really, really bother me. They dehumanize these people. Progressive dehumanization or othering of an already vulnerable part of the population is a step towards greater oppression of said group. If it was acceptable, I'm sure that such memes would be posted about African Americans by people who seem to think that Donald Trump* is a good person based on what I've seen said by that segment of the population with respect to former President Obama.
We are living in times where Immigrations and Customs Enforcement are stopping Amtrack trains outside of Syracuse (a city that is known for salt potatoes and their basketball for the most part) and demanding to see papers proving citizenship. They're waiting at schools and places of employment to pick up potential illegal immigrants. Families are making plans for what to do if parents are picked up while kids are at school. There is an underground railroad smuggling people out of the United States to points elsewhere to seek asylum.
And yet, we should be happy with our bread and circuses. We should laugh as children are pressured to kill themselves. We should shrug off one child calling ICE on another as a prank or youthful indiscretion. (That one ended well, thank gods, the child who had ICE called on them and their family were not harassed because they had the good fortune of having all of their paperwork in hand. And the child who did that call got expelled for it.) We should look away when transgendered people are murdered for the mere offense of living. We should be hyped up about the winter olympics but not offended by the fact that school shootings are in double digits already.
If my anger and concerns about such things makes me a helicopter parent, then I'm not that fun/annoying news helicopter that's telling you about rush hour traffic. I'm the armored assault helicopter that's air support for my troops on the ground. I haven't figured out how to deal with it all yet, but if someone comes at my kids, they're going down. School yard fights happen and that is why we're teaching them how to finish a fight if it starts but to never start one. The other side of things, adults fucking around causing my children problems, I will find away to destroy them utterly. Once I thought I could count on the community to help. Now, I find my people and we fight for each other because the bonds of community have broken.
If they hadn't broken, this mess wouldn't be here. We'd be taking care of each other and nobody's babies would be dying because someone told them they had to eat poison to be popular.
However, those stupidly dangerous things weren't lethal. Those stupidly dangerous things weren't being broadcasted for the whole world to watch. This would be like watching a group of kids playing russian roulette with an actual firearm, not a nerf gun, and when the likes for the feed hits a critical number, they load another bullet for the lulz. I carefully monitor my children's access to the internet to keep them away from this kind of garbage because they are the kids who'd be pressured into it due to how much they want to be friends with everybody. How many other children don't have parents who are able to do this for them? What of that number have died or been severely injured due to stuff like the Tide pod challenge? I'd lay odds that a good number of the dead and injured due to this meme are ones that their parents thought that Youtube was harmless.
The Tide pod challenge isn't the only thing that bothers me about popular memes right now. There's some stupid ones out there. That's not really a problem as much of an annoyance. But the memes that make fun of people with autism or treats people with mental disability as though they are subhuman really, really bother me. They dehumanize these people. Progressive dehumanization or othering of an already vulnerable part of the population is a step towards greater oppression of said group. If it was acceptable, I'm sure that such memes would be posted about African Americans by people who seem to think that Donald Trump* is a good person based on what I've seen said by that segment of the population with respect to former President Obama.
We are living in times where Immigrations and Customs Enforcement are stopping Amtrack trains outside of Syracuse (a city that is known for salt potatoes and their basketball for the most part) and demanding to see papers proving citizenship. They're waiting at schools and places of employment to pick up potential illegal immigrants. Families are making plans for what to do if parents are picked up while kids are at school. There is an underground railroad smuggling people out of the United States to points elsewhere to seek asylum.
And yet, we should be happy with our bread and circuses. We should laugh as children are pressured to kill themselves. We should shrug off one child calling ICE on another as a prank or youthful indiscretion. (That one ended well, thank gods, the child who had ICE called on them and their family were not harassed because they had the good fortune of having all of their paperwork in hand. And the child who did that call got expelled for it.) We should look away when transgendered people are murdered for the mere offense of living. We should be hyped up about the winter olympics but not offended by the fact that school shootings are in double digits already.
If my anger and concerns about such things makes me a helicopter parent, then I'm not that fun/annoying news helicopter that's telling you about rush hour traffic. I'm the armored assault helicopter that's air support for my troops on the ground. I haven't figured out how to deal with it all yet, but if someone comes at my kids, they're going down. School yard fights happen and that is why we're teaching them how to finish a fight if it starts but to never start one. The other side of things, adults fucking around causing my children problems, I will find away to destroy them utterly. Once I thought I could count on the community to help. Now, I find my people and we fight for each other because the bonds of community have broken.
If they hadn't broken, this mess wouldn't be here. We'd be taking care of each other and nobody's babies would be dying because someone told them they had to eat poison to be popular.
Med changes suck. (and other stuff)
I'm at that point in the process of adjusting to a new medication that I'm starting to get my feet under me again. I'm grouchy and stressed out because I can't do my usual things (or I don't remember doing them and feel like I still have to do them). And I'm still dealing with the exhaustion that comes with this one. It's improving, but feeling like I have to take a nap every day or go to bed early sucks. I don't get much alone time if I am not up in the morning and going during the school day because the kids are ALWAYS there.
Just a few minutes ago, I had the audacity to go use the bathroom and my youngest was wandering around shouting for me. Earlier, my eldest followed me to the bathroom talking about the box-fort firehouse he wants to build just like the one he saw on a Youtube video. He literally stood outside the door talking at me until I called out that I wanted to go potty in peace. Then he walked off, trying to talk to his brother who was on the complete other side of the apartment and couldn't hear him. This is just an everyday thing.
But, taking a two hour nap in the morning this morning robbed me of writing time. I spent my whole afternoon working on finances (and I got about half of the stuff I planned to do there done). When I wasn't doing that, I was doing dishes so that I could make dinner. And managing the kids. Here it is, almost 7 in the evening, I wish Beloved was home. I just want to have another grown adult to talk to about something other than plans to build stuff this summer, facts about the Titanic, firetrucks, or yard work equipment.
Tomorrow, we go see the folks at the autism center. I have a feeling that I'm not going to be the only one whose meds will be changed this month. My eldest has the moodiness and attitude that has Beloved and I convinced he is hitting the leading edge of puberty. And the youngest keeps having more attention problems and he is eating less. I don't know how any of this is going to change with the medications or honestly how to cope with it.
I'm exhausted from constantly trying to stay one step ahead of them. I have to out plan and out maneuver them on a regular basis to keep them safe. My youngest still has days where he tries to climb the unsecured bookcases. I worry about them getting into medications and thinking they are candy. I tell them they can't get into these things and they should only have them when we give it to them. But they are getting to that age that they're going to have the manual dexterity and possible inclination to get into those child safe bottles. And that terrifies me.
I've done my best to keep them unaware of the existence of the Tide Pod challenge because they'd try it. Just because they would think it was a thing that they were supposed to do. It is part of the reason why the Tide Pod challenge makes me so angry. I'll rant about that later. But, right now, I'm afraid for the safety of my kids because they're starting to get into things again. The youngest really, really wants to clean things like I do. He's taken to trying to clean the bathroom mirror. Kinda sweet, kinda cute, and kinda terrifying because he doesn't know what bottle is the cleaner or to clear all the stuff that goes in our mouths off of the counter top before cleaning. I'm seriously thinking about getting those child locks for the door of the cupboard. Or, if it fits through the fancy loop on the double door opening, a padlock.
I don't know what to do, but it has to be something. Because I want to keep them safe. My anxiety is pretty well justified on this front. It is exhausting. I'm always listening and looking out for trouble. I strive to give my boys their independence. At the same time, they've got developmental delays that put them a bit behind their peers. As such, my 3rd grader is in many ways like a kindergarten student. So, I have to keep close tabs on him. And my 5th grader is about a year behind in other ways.
Most of my friends are childless. The number of friends who have kids on the autism spectrum is fairly small. We try to be supportive of each other as much as Facebook and my social phobia allows. But it is hard because they're all over the map (quite literally) and only a few are local. It is hard to talk about this stuff because so many people say 'oh, I know!' when they really don't know. Yeah, my kids have fears of the dark like others their age. But the loud gurgling of our fucked up bathroom sink, the noise of the hot air hand dryers, and loud stuff like thunder and fireworks are going to be terrifying to the boys too.
Most kids may jump a bit and then be ok. Hell, a lot of kids get excited by loud noises. Mine have sound sensitivities that makes them have difficulty with a lot of things. I think the only reason why we didn't have meltdowns to deal with in the firetruck rides was because the obsession with firetrucks overpowers the sound sensitivity to some extent. (Every chance they get to visit the fire station, climb in a fire truck, and hang out with the firefighters, they jump for. They love those people. Hence part of the reason why they want to build a box-fort firehouse.)
Just a few minutes ago, I had the audacity to go use the bathroom and my youngest was wandering around shouting for me. Earlier, my eldest followed me to the bathroom talking about the box-fort firehouse he wants to build just like the one he saw on a Youtube video. He literally stood outside the door talking at me until I called out that I wanted to go potty in peace. Then he walked off, trying to talk to his brother who was on the complete other side of the apartment and couldn't hear him. This is just an everyday thing.
But, taking a two hour nap in the morning this morning robbed me of writing time. I spent my whole afternoon working on finances (and I got about half of the stuff I planned to do there done). When I wasn't doing that, I was doing dishes so that I could make dinner. And managing the kids. Here it is, almost 7 in the evening, I wish Beloved was home. I just want to have another grown adult to talk to about something other than plans to build stuff this summer, facts about the Titanic, firetrucks, or yard work equipment.
Tomorrow, we go see the folks at the autism center. I have a feeling that I'm not going to be the only one whose meds will be changed this month. My eldest has the moodiness and attitude that has Beloved and I convinced he is hitting the leading edge of puberty. And the youngest keeps having more attention problems and he is eating less. I don't know how any of this is going to change with the medications or honestly how to cope with it.
I'm exhausted from constantly trying to stay one step ahead of them. I have to out plan and out maneuver them on a regular basis to keep them safe. My youngest still has days where he tries to climb the unsecured bookcases. I worry about them getting into medications and thinking they are candy. I tell them they can't get into these things and they should only have them when we give it to them. But they are getting to that age that they're going to have the manual dexterity and possible inclination to get into those child safe bottles. And that terrifies me.
I've done my best to keep them unaware of the existence of the Tide Pod challenge because they'd try it. Just because they would think it was a thing that they were supposed to do. It is part of the reason why the Tide Pod challenge makes me so angry. I'll rant about that later. But, right now, I'm afraid for the safety of my kids because they're starting to get into things again. The youngest really, really wants to clean things like I do. He's taken to trying to clean the bathroom mirror. Kinda sweet, kinda cute, and kinda terrifying because he doesn't know what bottle is the cleaner or to clear all the stuff that goes in our mouths off of the counter top before cleaning. I'm seriously thinking about getting those child locks for the door of the cupboard. Or, if it fits through the fancy loop on the double door opening, a padlock.
I don't know what to do, but it has to be something. Because I want to keep them safe. My anxiety is pretty well justified on this front. It is exhausting. I'm always listening and looking out for trouble. I strive to give my boys their independence. At the same time, they've got developmental delays that put them a bit behind their peers. As such, my 3rd grader is in many ways like a kindergarten student. So, I have to keep close tabs on him. And my 5th grader is about a year behind in other ways.
Most of my friends are childless. The number of friends who have kids on the autism spectrum is fairly small. We try to be supportive of each other as much as Facebook and my social phobia allows. But it is hard because they're all over the map (quite literally) and only a few are local. It is hard to talk about this stuff because so many people say 'oh, I know!' when they really don't know. Yeah, my kids have fears of the dark like others their age. But the loud gurgling of our fucked up bathroom sink, the noise of the hot air hand dryers, and loud stuff like thunder and fireworks are going to be terrifying to the boys too.
Most kids may jump a bit and then be ok. Hell, a lot of kids get excited by loud noises. Mine have sound sensitivities that makes them have difficulty with a lot of things. I think the only reason why we didn't have meltdowns to deal with in the firetruck rides was because the obsession with firetrucks overpowers the sound sensitivity to some extent. (Every chance they get to visit the fire station, climb in a fire truck, and hang out with the firefighters, they jump for. They love those people. Hence part of the reason why they want to build a box-fort firehouse.)
Monday, February 05, 2018
Ranting ahead.
I'm sick and tired of being depressed. It's crept into every damn element of my day. Now, I can't get much writing done unless it is therapy related or my memoir/novel/whatever-it-is-today. I get maybe a paragraph done and then I find myself on the verge of crying. Change topics and it happens again. This is stupid and I want it to stop.
Monday, January 29, 2018
Monday Menu: Week of 1/28/18
It's a typical Monday afternoon here. My boys are arguing. The kitchen has a pile of dishes to be washed and laundry is waiting to be folded. But, I'm not going to argue because it is a good day. I've got my kids and my Beloved. I've a home to live in and the blessings of our belongings. I'm thankful for what we have. Even if the kids are making me grind my teeth. Because the alternative is horrifying to me. (I've been having some dark thoughts today when I'm not busy. The solution is to be more busy, right?)
| Date | Breakfast | Lunch | Dinner |
|---|---|---|---|
| Sun | Donuts | sandwiches / leftovers |
pizza |
| Mon | Waffles | Kids: school Hubby: pad thai bowl Me: leftovers |
hamburgers carrot salad fries |
| Tues | Cereal | Kids: school Hubby: peanut chicken bowl Me: soup |
pulled pork tacos salsa & fixings mexican rice |
| Wed | Waffles | Kids: school Hubby: pulled pork sandwich, hard boiled egg & chips Me: taco salad |
ham loaf, roasted potatoes & garlic green beans |
| Thurs | Cereal | Kids: sandwiches & chips Hubby: roast chicken, potatoes, & green beans Me: leftovers |
mu shu chicken wraps & celery, carrot & cucumber salad |
| Fri | Eggs & toast | Kids: sandwiches & carrot sticks Hubby: leftovers Me: sandwich & salad |
Pork korma, naan, & rice pilaf Kids: ham sandwich & veggies |
| Sat | french toast | leftovers | chicken & biscuits |
Tuesday, January 23, 2018
Monday Menu: Week of 1/21/18
| Date | Breakfast | Lunch | Dinner |
|---|---|---|---|
| Sun | French toast & bacon |
sandwiches / leftovers |
pizza |
| Mon | cereal | Kids: school Hubby: lasagna Me: leftovers |
hamburgers carrot salad fries |
| Tues | waffles | Kids: school Hubby: lasanga Me: soup |
tacos salsa & fixings mexican rice |
| Wed | eggs & ham | Kids: school Hubby: ham salad sandwich, hard boiled egg & chips Me: taco salad |
tatertot bake salad / fresh cut veggies |
| Thurs | waffles | Kids: school Hubby: teriyaki meatballs & peanut noodles Me: leftovers |
General Tso chicken, fried rice, cucumber salad |
| Fri | cereal w/ fruit | Kids: sandwiches & carrot sticks Hubby: leftovers Me: sandwich & salad |
Thai peanut pork chops w/ naan & rice pilaf (ez mac for kids) |
| Sat | eggs w/ hashbrowns & sausage |
leftovers | spaghetti & meatballs (homemade sauce) |
Friday, January 19, 2018
Fiction Friday: Random Scene - Insomnia
Sarah stared up at the ceiling. The projection display of her alarm clock said it was 0200 and 56 seconds. She was exhausted. This was the third night that she just couldn't sleep. Work wasn't much of a problem, aside from being painfully boring. Thus, staying awake was the problem. Somewhere in the apartment below, she heard the noise of the neighbors having an argument, or possibly sex. It was hard to tell. In the bathroom off across the hallway, the sink dripped into the basin at 3/4 time. It took Sarah about 6 seconds to realize it. She almost laughed, her music lessons way back in middle school were actually still there somehow inside her brain.
The heater kicked on with a rattling sound in the vent. As the warm air blew up, a bit of paper slapped and rustled against the vent itself. The sound was annoying. Sarah put her pillow over her head as she rolled onto her right side. She wondered if it was possible to smother yourself trying to block out the noise of other people and her irritating heating duct problem. Then she realized that she could hear the muted noise of the neighbors below through the mattress with some weird echo quality due to the springs. With a sigh, the tired woman rolled over to her back and thumped the pillow down on the side of the bed. Sarah stared at the clock's display. 0201 and 43 seconds.
Music listening to: The Last Bison Sleep off of their album VA
Time to write scene: 10 minutes approx.
The heater kicked on with a rattling sound in the vent. As the warm air blew up, a bit of paper slapped and rustled against the vent itself. The sound was annoying. Sarah put her pillow over her head as she rolled onto her right side. She wondered if it was possible to smother yourself trying to block out the noise of other people and her irritating heating duct problem. Then she realized that she could hear the muted noise of the neighbors below through the mattress with some weird echo quality due to the springs. With a sigh, the tired woman rolled over to her back and thumped the pillow down on the side of the bed. Sarah stared at the clock's display. 0201 and 43 seconds.
Music listening to: The Last Bison Sleep off of their album VA
Time to write scene: 10 minutes approx.
Wednesday, January 17, 2018
Tired but muddling along.
I'm feeling pretty worn out today. I caught what ever this cold is that the kids have. My solution is to make soup and drink tea. My chicken bone broth has been bubbling away for about two hours. The kitchen smells pretty great, to be honest. I have a fascinator that I'm making which is about 1/3 of the way done. I'm hoping I have enough yarn for it. I'm not sure if I have a second ball in that colorway. I have only just started spinning for this year. I'm working from the same fiber as last time. My hope is to get up to serious production level spinning next season and possibly stock my etsy store with yarn.
Right now, I'm going to take a short nap because I can barely type. I blame my medication for this exhaustion.
Right now, I'm going to take a short nap because I can barely type. I blame my medication for this exhaustion.
Thursday, January 11, 2018
Fiction Friday: The Friendzone
i have this vision of the guy chained in some kind of dark basement type place that was once a fun center for kids and has all of the dopey signs for 'FRIENDZONE' everywhere complete with some kind of cheezy/disturbing mascot wearing a fedora. (i may have to write a horror short featuring this concept now...)
Derek was pleased. Not only had he successfully managed to get the number for the hottest woman at the party, but she agreed to go on a date. His buddy Chad was mildly insulted but chose to sit and work on trying to make a girl that was almost as pretty cry with his backhanded comments as he drank his craft brew. Derek gave Chad a thumbs up as the blond woman he had his date arranged with came over to him and took him by the hand to lead him off elsewhere. Chad flipped him the bird with a smirk.
Sheila was pleased. Her mark was textbook perfect. He had the cheap tanning booth look, over priced sun glasses, and all the charm of the plastic doll he was desperately attempting to imitate with out knowing it. His hair was cut in the latest style and his clothes were top shelf brands. Derek, as he called himself, was an utter boor with a penchant for pick up lines. Sheila did her best to play coy until he decided to be persistent. Then she let him decide that she was interested and plan to go on a date.
She gave him the number for the last mark. He was excited, impulsive, and thinking entirely with his gonads. Now, usually, Sheila would have waited for the date. Derek, however, was repulsive enough that he decided agreement to a date was consent to spike her drink and do whatever he wished later when she was drugged. This annoyed Sheila, so she moved her time table up the same time she switched drinks with him when was distracted by someone calling his name.
They had gotten their coats and Derek was showing signs of the drug/alcohol combination taking effect. He tried to say that he was good to drive. Sheila changed his mind with a suggestive comment about a woman taking control as she steered him towards the sidewalk. She raised a hand and hailed a cab. Derek was stumbling as she helped him into the car. He was rambling about something but Sheila ignored him. The cab stopped at the shopping center. Sheila paid the fare and helped Derek out of the vehicle. They walked towards a shelter where she claimed an associate was going to meet them. The cab drove off thinking nothing of it.
Sheila let Derek rest for a minute as they sat in the shelter. He said something about lewd plans involving Sheila and her 'girlfriend' and she laughed. Feeling encouraged by her laughter, he spewed something more vulgar in a drunken slur. Sheila helped him up to his feet and they walked past the entrance into the main shopping area. With her hood up, Sheila's face was well hidden as they walked along. Derek liked the idea of an adventure and tried to take the lead. When they reached the place she was planning to take him, Derek looked around.
Taking her key out of her pocket, Sheila opened the door and motioned Derek in. He peered in the gloom, trying to figure out what about the place seemed so wrong aside from the dark. Sheila laughed at his discomfort and said it was nothing to worry about. As she popped on her flash light and lead him through a maze of dust covered tables, Derek's sense that something was absolutely wrong with the scenario grew stronger. Sheila looked at him with a manic smile and told him "This is a happy, fun place. You'll love it here." Derek tried to lurch away from here but Sheila moved with him, backing him up against a pillar.
"Oh hush," she cooed, "You were the one looking for a little adventure." As she rubbed her body against him, Derek groaned a little. That was his last clear memory.
Eight hours later, he woke up. A giant donkey wearing a fedora cocked jauntily on its head was sitting before him. Derek screamed. The donkey didn't move. That was when he realized that it was Dick the Donkey, mascot of the failed chain of arcade and entertainment restaurants known as the Friendzone. There were a few other mascots, like Willy the Worm and Mr. Happy the Smiling Snake. Derek came to the Friendzone for a few birthday parties when he was in his single digits. The donkey disturbed him greatly, he had nightmares.
"Ok, this isn't funny," he said to the person wearing the plush costume. There was no answer. There was no noise at all. For a moment, the old fear that the smiling Dick the Donkey was going to hack him to death with a machete came to mind. As he began to think more clearly, Derek realized his left ankle felt like there was something on it. He looked down and discovered he had one end of a pair of pink fuzzy handcuffs strapped around his ankle. The other was fixed to what was once a tie down for a faux tent in that 'party' section. Derek reached down to try to pull the cuff off. That was when he realized there was good old fashioned American made steel underneath that neon pink fluff.
Derek looked up. Dick the Donkey didn't move. Derek looked around and saw a hacksaw sitting on the table beside him, just in reach. He picked it up. He leaned down to saw at the chain between the cuffs and realized he couldn't get the right angle. His only way out was mutilation. And Dick the Donkey didn't move. Derek looked around again, realizing that he couldn't see the front of the building. He couldn't hear the sounds of traffic or anyone in the other buildings. He forgot that the Friendzone was built like an impenetrable bunker so that none could hear kiddies screaming with glee. Derek looked at Dick the Donkey.
"You don't have the key, do you, Dick?" The donkey's head drooped forward. "Hey, asshole!" Derek screamed, "Do you have the key to get me out of this?" There was no response. With his free leg, Derek kicked out and managed to catch the costumed figure in the knee. The plush over sized head tumbled off. A dessicated male corpse stared emptily ahead. Derek screamed. He slapped his pockets as he awkwardly found his feet. No phone, no keys, nothing. He flopped back into the chair, wrenching his ankle, and sobbed. He was trapped.
Derek was pleased. Not only had he successfully managed to get the number for the hottest woman at the party, but she agreed to go on a date. His buddy Chad was mildly insulted but chose to sit and work on trying to make a girl that was almost as pretty cry with his backhanded comments as he drank his craft brew. Derek gave Chad a thumbs up as the blond woman he had his date arranged with came over to him and took him by the hand to lead him off elsewhere. Chad flipped him the bird with a smirk.
Sheila was pleased. Her mark was textbook perfect. He had the cheap tanning booth look, over priced sun glasses, and all the charm of the plastic doll he was desperately attempting to imitate with out knowing it. His hair was cut in the latest style and his clothes were top shelf brands. Derek, as he called himself, was an utter boor with a penchant for pick up lines. Sheila did her best to play coy until he decided to be persistent. Then she let him decide that she was interested and plan to go on a date.
She gave him the number for the last mark. He was excited, impulsive, and thinking entirely with his gonads. Now, usually, Sheila would have waited for the date. Derek, however, was repulsive enough that he decided agreement to a date was consent to spike her drink and do whatever he wished later when she was drugged. This annoyed Sheila, so she moved her time table up the same time she switched drinks with him when was distracted by someone calling his name.
They had gotten their coats and Derek was showing signs of the drug/alcohol combination taking effect. He tried to say that he was good to drive. Sheila changed his mind with a suggestive comment about a woman taking control as she steered him towards the sidewalk. She raised a hand and hailed a cab. Derek was stumbling as she helped him into the car. He was rambling about something but Sheila ignored him. The cab stopped at the shopping center. Sheila paid the fare and helped Derek out of the vehicle. They walked towards a shelter where she claimed an associate was going to meet them. The cab drove off thinking nothing of it.
Sheila let Derek rest for a minute as they sat in the shelter. He said something about lewd plans involving Sheila and her 'girlfriend' and she laughed. Feeling encouraged by her laughter, he spewed something more vulgar in a drunken slur. Sheila helped him up to his feet and they walked past the entrance into the main shopping area. With her hood up, Sheila's face was well hidden as they walked along. Derek liked the idea of an adventure and tried to take the lead. When they reached the place she was planning to take him, Derek looked around.
Taking her key out of her pocket, Sheila opened the door and motioned Derek in. He peered in the gloom, trying to figure out what about the place seemed so wrong aside from the dark. Sheila laughed at his discomfort and said it was nothing to worry about. As she popped on her flash light and lead him through a maze of dust covered tables, Derek's sense that something was absolutely wrong with the scenario grew stronger. Sheila looked at him with a manic smile and told him "This is a happy, fun place. You'll love it here." Derek tried to lurch away from here but Sheila moved with him, backing him up against a pillar.
"Oh hush," she cooed, "You were the one looking for a little adventure." As she rubbed her body against him, Derek groaned a little. That was his last clear memory.
Eight hours later, he woke up. A giant donkey wearing a fedora cocked jauntily on its head was sitting before him. Derek screamed. The donkey didn't move. That was when he realized that it was Dick the Donkey, mascot of the failed chain of arcade and entertainment restaurants known as the Friendzone. There were a few other mascots, like Willy the Worm and Mr. Happy the Smiling Snake. Derek came to the Friendzone for a few birthday parties when he was in his single digits. The donkey disturbed him greatly, he had nightmares.
"Ok, this isn't funny," he said to the person wearing the plush costume. There was no answer. There was no noise at all. For a moment, the old fear that the smiling Dick the Donkey was going to hack him to death with a machete came to mind. As he began to think more clearly, Derek realized his left ankle felt like there was something on it. He looked down and discovered he had one end of a pair of pink fuzzy handcuffs strapped around his ankle. The other was fixed to what was once a tie down for a faux tent in that 'party' section. Derek reached down to try to pull the cuff off. That was when he realized there was good old fashioned American made steel underneath that neon pink fluff.
Derek looked up. Dick the Donkey didn't move. Derek looked around and saw a hacksaw sitting on the table beside him, just in reach. He picked it up. He leaned down to saw at the chain between the cuffs and realized he couldn't get the right angle. His only way out was mutilation. And Dick the Donkey didn't move. Derek looked around again, realizing that he couldn't see the front of the building. He couldn't hear the sounds of traffic or anyone in the other buildings. He forgot that the Friendzone was built like an impenetrable bunker so that none could hear kiddies screaming with glee. Derek looked at Dick the Donkey.
"You don't have the key, do you, Dick?" The donkey's head drooped forward. "Hey, asshole!" Derek screamed, "Do you have the key to get me out of this?" There was no response. With his free leg, Derek kicked out and managed to catch the costumed figure in the knee. The plush over sized head tumbled off. A dessicated male corpse stared emptily ahead. Derek screamed. He slapped his pockets as he awkwardly found his feet. No phone, no keys, nothing. He flopped back into the chair, wrenching his ankle, and sobbed. He was trapped.
Dessert? Bah.
So, I've come to the conclusion I clearly must not be normal. I've gone from being someone who enjoys ice cream to someone who eats a roast beef sandwich or mashed potatoes as their last 'meal' of the day. If I am looking for something sweet, I eat fruit now. But, usually, I'm looking for something savory and with a bit of meat to it.
For a while, I cut just about all carbs out of my diet. I reduced my daily intake down to around 4 portions. As a result, I had a sharp uptick in severe headaches and more stomach issues. So, I'm eating more carbs now. But the preference for unsweetened things seems to have stuck around. My only exceptions are iced tea and coffee. Still, I have been using less sweetener in those too. I don't appear to have lost more weight yet.
My goal, however, is not to lose weight. As someone who was borderline anorexic in high school for various reasons, I am working not to focus on weight. Instead, I'm trying to keep my focus on what makes me feel healthy. And keep my focus on things like building muscle strength and flexibility. I'm trying to get my endurance up higher for physical activity. I want to be healthier and part of getting there is obviously going to mean losing some weight, more exercise, and eating better food.
In the first quarter of the year, my goal is to get my diet straightened out. I kinda have a start on that by eating multiple small meals through out the day to keep my blood sugar stable. Focusing more on unprocessed food has been pretty easy because most of the processed food is outside of our budget. The processed foods that are inside our budget are just not very good. So, instead of eating things like boxed macaroni and cheese, I'm making spaghetti with homemade tomato sauce. And I'm not having that too often either.
Dessert food and snack food have been slowly phasing their way out of my diet. It is still very much a part of the diets of the guys. But that's ok. Beloved does so in moderation, so I'm not worried about it being a health hazard for him. And the kids need to eat more to bulk up their weight right now. For my part, I'll just try to stick with my fruit as a snack food. Though, I've been leaning more towards vegetables for snacks of late.
Next month, I start keeping a food journal to see what exactly I am eating. This month, I am spending time learning about what manner of diet is healthiest for someone like me. I'm beginning to think I should talk to some nutritionists in training or something. I want to have a healthy diet. What I have now isn't too bad. But I want to do better and have more variety in it. I have been seriously thinking about going back to what I was doing a few years ago where I save my 'normal' meal for dinner time and eat a vegetarian diet for the rest of the day.
It's a good thing I have an almost unholy love of oatmeal and I know how to make overnight oats in the fridge for hot weather. (Just have to say, if you want a savory oatmeal fix, add some onion chutney and a crisply fried egg to it. And if you want your overnight oats to be sweet and fruity, use fruit flavored yogurt in place of regular yogurt or add some chopped up frozen fruit.)
For a while, I cut just about all carbs out of my diet. I reduced my daily intake down to around 4 portions. As a result, I had a sharp uptick in severe headaches and more stomach issues. So, I'm eating more carbs now. But the preference for unsweetened things seems to have stuck around. My only exceptions are iced tea and coffee. Still, I have been using less sweetener in those too. I don't appear to have lost more weight yet.
My goal, however, is not to lose weight. As someone who was borderline anorexic in high school for various reasons, I am working not to focus on weight. Instead, I'm trying to keep my focus on what makes me feel healthy. And keep my focus on things like building muscle strength and flexibility. I'm trying to get my endurance up higher for physical activity. I want to be healthier and part of getting there is obviously going to mean losing some weight, more exercise, and eating better food.
In the first quarter of the year, my goal is to get my diet straightened out. I kinda have a start on that by eating multiple small meals through out the day to keep my blood sugar stable. Focusing more on unprocessed food has been pretty easy because most of the processed food is outside of our budget. The processed foods that are inside our budget are just not very good. So, instead of eating things like boxed macaroni and cheese, I'm making spaghetti with homemade tomato sauce. And I'm not having that too often either.
Dessert food and snack food have been slowly phasing their way out of my diet. It is still very much a part of the diets of the guys. But that's ok. Beloved does so in moderation, so I'm not worried about it being a health hazard for him. And the kids need to eat more to bulk up their weight right now. For my part, I'll just try to stick with my fruit as a snack food. Though, I've been leaning more towards vegetables for snacks of late.
Next month, I start keeping a food journal to see what exactly I am eating. This month, I am spending time learning about what manner of diet is healthiest for someone like me. I'm beginning to think I should talk to some nutritionists in training or something. I want to have a healthy diet. What I have now isn't too bad. But I want to do better and have more variety in it. I have been seriously thinking about going back to what I was doing a few years ago where I save my 'normal' meal for dinner time and eat a vegetarian diet for the rest of the day.
It's a good thing I have an almost unholy love of oatmeal and I know how to make overnight oats in the fridge for hot weather. (Just have to say, if you want a savory oatmeal fix, add some onion chutney and a crisply fried egg to it. And if you want your overnight oats to be sweet and fruity, use fruit flavored yogurt in place of regular yogurt or add some chopped up frozen fruit.)
Tuesday, January 09, 2018
Ranting
I'm struggling to get my butt back into gear, y'all. I did my usual daily routine yesterday like I would if it were any other time of year. It was exhausting and I was ready for a nap in the middle of the day. I feel kinda badly about it. I realize that I am recovering from being sick for around two months. I realize that I'm in the middle of my Seasonal Affective Disorder and the bad season for my PTSD.
Being reasonable, I completely comprehend that I need to ease back into my daily routine. I am not happy about it, though. I want to just get back to doing the things that I had been before I got sick. I want to get back to walking a half mile at least three days a week. I want to get back to doing yoga and my back exercises every morning (even adding in some yoga in the evening too, because it really helps with the arthritis). I want to get back to my prodigious writing output and finish a couple of manuscripts.
But, here I am struggling to get a few blog posts and household chores done. I know the problem is depression. I know that arthritis makes it painful for me to exercise, especially out in the cold weather. But even the 15 minute indoor exercise routine I have was too much for me. I feel extra achey and stiff today. I am trying to stay on top of it all, but I'm not doing that great. I'm very frustrated because I feel like I should be doing more. Heck, the fact that I'm not completely over the repeated colds and I have persistent back aches because my bed kinda sucks is working against me too.
And yet, I keep finding myself saying "My arms and legs work. I should be doing more. I'm not so sick that I'm laid up in bed. I should have the apartment clean. I should have dinner on the table every evening at the same time, to keep the kids and I on a healthy eating schedule." The list goes on. I get so tired. Just trying to ignore this repeating loop in my head that says I should be doing more because my limbs are functional. I feel so guilty that I don't have the emotional reserves or the mental capacity to go out and do more. I have such a problem with my anxiety that I'm on multiple medications for it. And I meditate, drink green tea, and do all that other self care stuff. But I still can't manage being out for the day doing stuff.
Going to spinning group is exhausting and I found out the hard way recently that going shopping immediately after sets off a panic attack. Going to have fun with some friends (which does not involve 100+ people like spinning guild), I need the next day to recover because I have pretty severe mood drop afterwards. Never mind all the anxiety about going. Somewhere in the process, I cross a threshold and I either am present and enjoy myself or I am half dissociated. Spinning guild usually has me half dissociated. But most people can't tell when I'm not fully there because I go from anxious introvert to cheerful extrovert. It's a coping mechanism I developed to hide when I dissociate. Because in the past, dissociating in public was dangerous and I had to mask it.
My past was pretty bad. Life completely turned around when Beloved took me out on our first date. It didn't really show how much it changed until years down the road. But suddenly, I had somewhere truly safe. I had someone who loved me unconditionally and I didn't ever question if it was some kind of warped game. None of the conditioning applied there. With him, I am free. At one point, I had some arm chair psychiatrist try to tell me that I was in a co-dependent relationship and that it was unhealthy for me. I laughed in their face and told them that they had no idea what they were talking about.
Being reasonable, I completely comprehend that I need to ease back into my daily routine. I am not happy about it, though. I want to just get back to doing the things that I had been before I got sick. I want to get back to walking a half mile at least three days a week. I want to get back to doing yoga and my back exercises every morning (even adding in some yoga in the evening too, because it really helps with the arthritis). I want to get back to my prodigious writing output and finish a couple of manuscripts.
But, here I am struggling to get a few blog posts and household chores done. I know the problem is depression. I know that arthritis makes it painful for me to exercise, especially out in the cold weather. But even the 15 minute indoor exercise routine I have was too much for me. I feel extra achey and stiff today. I am trying to stay on top of it all, but I'm not doing that great. I'm very frustrated because I feel like I should be doing more. Heck, the fact that I'm not completely over the repeated colds and I have persistent back aches because my bed kinda sucks is working against me too.
And yet, I keep finding myself saying "My arms and legs work. I should be doing more. I'm not so sick that I'm laid up in bed. I should have the apartment clean. I should have dinner on the table every evening at the same time, to keep the kids and I on a healthy eating schedule." The list goes on. I get so tired. Just trying to ignore this repeating loop in my head that says I should be doing more because my limbs are functional. I feel so guilty that I don't have the emotional reserves or the mental capacity to go out and do more. I have such a problem with my anxiety that I'm on multiple medications for it. And I meditate, drink green tea, and do all that other self care stuff. But I still can't manage being out for the day doing stuff.
Going to spinning group is exhausting and I found out the hard way recently that going shopping immediately after sets off a panic attack. Going to have fun with some friends (which does not involve 100+ people like spinning guild), I need the next day to recover because I have pretty severe mood drop afterwards. Never mind all the anxiety about going. Somewhere in the process, I cross a threshold and I either am present and enjoy myself or I am half dissociated. Spinning guild usually has me half dissociated. But most people can't tell when I'm not fully there because I go from anxious introvert to cheerful extrovert. It's a coping mechanism I developed to hide when I dissociate. Because in the past, dissociating in public was dangerous and I had to mask it.
My past was pretty bad. Life completely turned around when Beloved took me out on our first date. It didn't really show how much it changed until years down the road. But suddenly, I had somewhere truly safe. I had someone who loved me unconditionally and I didn't ever question if it was some kind of warped game. None of the conditioning applied there. With him, I am free. At one point, I had some arm chair psychiatrist try to tell me that I was in a co-dependent relationship and that it was unhealthy for me. I laughed in their face and told them that they had no idea what they were talking about.
Monday, January 01, 2018
Monday Menu
The plan this week is to use up leftovers and make comfort food. The easy cassoulette recipe came from Better Homes and Gardens' Casserole Recipes cookbook from the 70s. It has a bunch of recipes that I still will use, despite growing up eating some of the less awesome ones. The only alteration I made to that recipe was I used bacon instead of ham in it and my sausage used was bulk, hot italian sausage. I didn't put any wine in because I didn't have any to use. Beloved really enjoyed it. The kids were suspicious because it wasn't pizza.
| Date | Breakfast | Lunch | Dinner |
|---|---|---|---|
| Sun | eggs, hash & toast |
Sandwiches | Easy cassoulette greens & corn bread |
| Mon | Scrambled eggs & toast |
leftovers | roast chicken, cheesy potatoes peas |
| Tues | cereal w/ milk & fruit |
Kids - School Beloved - indian leftovers with naan Me - Salad & soup |
hamburgers w/ fixings carrot salad |
| Wed | waffles w/ milk & fruit |
Kids - School Beloved - egg salad sand. chips & trail mix Me: chicken salad w/ lettuce |
scalloped potato & ham bake w/ salad |
| Thurs | Cereal w/ milk & fruit |
Kids - School Beloved - ham salad sandwich & chips me - leftovers |
chili, corn bread & carrot sticks |
| Fri | Eggs / waffles |
Kids - School Beloved - leftovers Me - leftovers |
pork jalfrezi w/ rice cucumber, celery & carrot salad |
| Sat | Eggs & hash |
Leftovers / salads |
meatloaf baked potatoes mixed veggies |
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)