It’s here. Now. Not around the corner, but right in my face. Summer. Twelve short weeks of sweating and sunburn. Along with the heat comes the festivals. The this music fest, the that cultural fest. Every weekend. Other than Mondays (oh, dreaded Monday, no one like you and that isn’t fair), there’s something going on almost every day.
Free stuff is easy – all I need is the time and the physical ability to go see it. It’s the other stuff I’m thinking of this morning. The things that cost a bit to get into. I want to see as much as I possibly can, so I have to pick and choose. Winnow down my choices. It ain’t easy. My energy levels will have the iron hand in this; no energy, no festival, and to hell with what I WANT to do.
Goddess! To have just one day as a healthy 20 something again. 30 something. Hell, I’ll take 40 something these days…
My aging issues aside – and that’s a big bunch of shit to get around…
Thanks to writing in the morning I was able to get through yesterday without a hissy fit. I didn’t bring up my feelings to my brother. As I said, I think it will just result in an argument and frankly, I’ve had enough of those to last me a lifetime. No. If there’s one thing my brief stint into the world of mental (un)health has taught me it’s that in the end you’ve got to do it alone. They can be a cheerleader for you, pump you with pills to ease your anxiety or sleeplessness or hopelessly depressed feelings, but only YOU can
prevent forest fires make a difference in your life. [By the way, my brain translates that down into this: They can’t really help you, so do it yourself. I’m trying NOT to be that bleak.]
Here’s a question for you, out of the blue and something that has nothing to do with anything: why are tobacco companies still legal? Everyone now agrees that smoking leads to cancer. Even second hand smoke is bad, bad, bad, you nasty, dirty smokers. So why is something that has zero benefits and 100% drawbacks still get manufactured and pushed onto the public? Why is it even ALLOWED to go onto the market?
I think we need to keep that in mind. Keep in mind that we as a species allow unhealthy, even detrimental products out on the market because someone somewhere is making a lot of money. Think about THAT next time your doctor talks about putting you on a new pill. I know I will.
*sigh* So I received an electronic payment yesterday and a notification in my email of what I got paid for. Some of the money goes back to 2012; this particular distributor kept upping the amount of royalties before they’d pay out – first it was $20, then it was $50, then it was $100. That’s legal, according to their contract (the right to modify the terms with 30 days notice). That’s also how they get indie artists. This particular distributor was earning interest on my royalties for 4 years. Fuckers. Of course my payment isn’t earth shattering, and the interest earned on my royalties isn’t that high. But if they do it to me, they do it to other people. Do it to 10,000 people and suddenly you’re sitting on a nice pile of cash. This is just one of the many ways corporations screw individuals. And it’s not just artist royalties, either. Ever get a payment late? A refund, a welfare payment, and insurance payout? Was it on time? Chances are high it was at least a day late. Even 24 hours can make a HUGE difference on corporations’ and governments’ bottom lines. It’s accounting trick 101.
Yeah, even something as positive as getting paid gets turned around into a negative for me. Stoopid brain. You just can’t not see that shit, can you?
With the heat that summer months brings, my body issues are at their usual high. Not only do I have excess flesh hanging on my stomach and thighs, it’s white, white, white and now it gets exposed for the pale whale flesh it is. Yuck. I’ve also convinced myself that if I didn’t weigh so much I wouldn’t feel so hot (not true, not true! I’d still sweat). So every bump, bulge, and jiggle draws from me a sneer at my own body. It’s like traveling with your own, private heckler in your head. I try to keep in mind that my body image is distorted. I always envision myself as heavier than I am. Still. The mental garbage is an uphill battle during these months.
Relax has been the word most often coming out of my brother’s mouth. Chill out. You gotta stop worrying. That’s not easy. I don’t feel I’m on absolutely safe ground. As I explained to a friend the other day, things around here get paid by my brother’s pension. I used to contribute more, but that was decades and countries ago. Anyway. His pension comes in US dollars, but what we get here is dependent on the exchange rate. And ever since a certain orange Republican candidate has come to the fore, the exchange rates have been slipping. So every month we have less and less money to work with. It’s not an issue YET. But four years of this happening and we’ll not be able to afford living here. The very thought brings up a deep feeling of dread in me.
Yes. Anxiety is making its way back into my life. Creeping around the corners, stealing upon me in sleep. It’s beginning to color everything that certain drab that comes with paranoia. Staying in the now is getting more and more difficult.
One heat-seared step at a time. I know I’ve been zooming around. Time to pay the piper.
This is what walking on Mercury feels like.