Life is never easy

Well, this is new.

I am SO stiff around my tail bone! Happy to say I have zero sharp pain, but… This isn’t very nice. Not very nice at all. Today is a little better, too. Yesterday was really bad. *sigh* Ever since corona, the pain in my hip area has increased 100 fold. In fact, these days it’s almost a sure bet it’s in my hip area when I say I’ve got pain. Oh, I don’t want to face a hip replacement at any time in my future. I’d rather hobble along with what I’ve got and then just die.

Okay, don’t get ahead of yourself, Beeps. We’re not at hip replacement surgery yet.

I have been up and walking. Moving around. Yesterday I got up early, made my famous chili verde quiche, did dishes and three loads of laundry. That really sapped my strength. And hurt my back. Had to take paracetamol. Again. Tempted to just sit on my arse today and watch films. Even T suggested I just take it easy today, which tells me I’ve been making a lot of ‘ughs’ and ‘oohs’ when I move. I don’t hear myself do it, but he does. Geez! It’s like corona aged my body 10 years. I don’t look it, but I sure as hell feel it. And it feels awful.

Here in NL: Rain, rain, rain. Rotterdam has more than enough water. We’ve had what the Irish would call ‘soft’ days, which means an all encompassing foggy feel to the day. Not really raining outright, just a whole lotta water in the air that makes you wet the moment you step outside. We’ve broken a couple of heat records for this time of year. Frankly, I find it pleasant to not have to walk out in full winter gear. Big news today is a riot in Den Haag thanks to our Eritrean refugees. Apparently there was some sort of gathering downtown and it resulted in a big riot. A number of police vehicles were set on fire and emergency services were pelted with fireworks. The article I read stated it was a disagreement between pro and anti government factions. My question is this: why are pro government people living here? Why do we take refugees from this country if so many people are happy with it? I don’t get it. As far as I know, Eritrea is not a big centre of tech knowledge, so it isn’t like we take in high tech refugees or anything. Of course I can find no answers to my questions. I’m just left wondering why all these people who claim they want to live here are so eager to rip the place apart.

Let’s talk politics for a minute. *shudder* It feels like the EU is prepping for another Trump presidency. I hope you guys in the US are ready for tyrant Trump. Every day it feels less likely that you’ll keep him out of the WH. I don’t think Putin is gonna jump all over invading Europe. If he makes any move outside of Ukraine, I think it will be in Poland due to its resources. And yes, if the EU treaties hold, that would mean the EU has to go to war with Russia. Nobody wants that. It’s looking more and more likely that Rutte will take over the EU Presidency. He’s a big negotiator. He’d probably allow Russia to take control over certain areas if it meant no outright war. How the rising right wing populists would react to that is beyond me. If they benefit, they’ll be happy. If not, we’ll hear about how awful this or that is. I think the big problem is Israel and the Middle East. That’s like one of those underground fires that keeps burning all winter long and begins again the next year. It never really stops. And the devastation is huge.

I’ll stop there because I’m making myself depressed. Again.

So often I wonder what life would be like without my depression and without my RA. What IS it like to wake up happy all the time? To NOT think down the lines of logic and see all that’s horrible about the human race? To be able to deny all my issues and mistakes without spending my time beating myself up for all of it? …Honestly, I can’t imagine it. Those things are so much a part of me I can’t imagine me without them. It’s like trying to imagine growing up in a supportive family. While I can envision that because I’ve seen it in films and met people who have it, I cannot imagine what I would be like in that situation. Me, more confident and happy? Sure of myself? Goddess! I feel like I spend 90% of my time waffling around in a morass of indecision. I have no idea what I’d do with all that left over time if my issues were gone. I guess in some ways, I wouldn’t be me. Or that’s what it feels like. I could be wrong. I was worried about my meds making me into something I’m not and that didn’t happen. I just stopped waking up in tears or crying when I was out in public.

I suppose it just doesn’t matter. In this reality, it isn’t what I’ve experienced. All that speculation about who I could have been or what I could have done is just that: speculation. There’s no guarantee that the me who doesn’t have RA and was born into a loving and supportive family didn’t go bad somehow. And she would have had her own problems that seemed really big and insurmountable. That much, I know.

‘Cause life is never easy.

Small and steady steps

No pain, no pain, no pain! And I mean ZERO pain. Not one muscle in my shoulder or back hurts. Two months of pain are over! Hurrah!

Just in time for band practice tonight. We’re trying out the keyboard at the rehearsal space. See if I can use it during rehearsals since they’re too full up to store mine onsite. It’ll be weird. I’ll bet my bottom dollar it’s a Casio. Nothing worse than Casio sounds; I never use them. But they’re really cheap, so… That’s probably what I’ll get. My challenge will be making it sound cool. Or cooler.

Have to go off my pain pills now. A trial, to see if my pain really is gone or if I’ll need to stay on something. Don’t like that thought at all. Hope, of course, that it’s all over. That all the muscle aches and pains are gone because it’s been quiet long enough to ease all that out, not that it’s because I’m still popping pills. Need to know before I see my huisarts about it. I’m seeing her next week.

We have snow! Not much here in the city, but enough to make everything icy. Had to go and get my meds at the apotheek yesterday and almost fell on the ice twice heading over there. Lots of tiny, safe steps. I’d even left it ’til after 11am, thinking that would be long enough for the sun to clear some stuff up. Nope. Did not properly calculate the shadows of the buildings. Lots and lots of icy patches to walk over. It is STILL freezing cold, but we’re not supposed to get more snow. I hope. I also hope we don’t have any rain fall because the temp is cold enough at night all it will do is cause more ice. Usually the city is much more on top of cleaning things up, but I think everyone in charge thinks that the ice and snow will melt in a day or two.

And that’s how ice ruts and impassable sidewalks start.

All I concentrate on when I’m outside – other than small, steady steps – is how I have to keep my arms right by my sides if I DO fall. No putting my arm out to help save me from the fall. No. That’s how I broke my wrist. That’s how loads of broken bones happen. It’s a real shitshow that you can do that when you’re younger and then you’ve learned to do it and then, when you’re older, it’s the leading cause of broken bones among the elderly. Fu-u-u-uck.

No idea WHAT was up yesterday as I got back home from the apotheek. I decided right about the second time I almost broke my neck walking there that I’d take the metro back. Only one stop, but I knew for certain that all the wheelchair ramps were clear and that meant it would prevent me from LOADS of walking on ice. Had to wait for 5 minutes for the metro. And some dude just HAD to talk to me. He was either hitting on me or he’d just come out of language class and was instructed to try to strike up a conversation with someone on the street. Possible he was hitting on me. I think you could tell I was female. But I was so wrapped up in knit caps and scarves and my big jacket that I don’t think he could tell much more than that. His first comment was on the weather and how cold it was. The second comment was on my sunglasses; he thought they looked good. I just ‘hmmmed’ him back. An acknowledgement without commitment of any kind. I mean…my glasses are old and cheap. No reason to give me a compliment. And of course the weather was cold. It’s been cold for days. Honestly, the more I think about it, the more I think he was instructed to talk to someone outside of class. Why would he want to talk to a bundled up someone? He couldn’t tell if I was young or old or anything.

Thinking deep thoughts lately. All that ‘have I wasted my life?’ stuff. I think, maybe, that I have. Wasted it, I mean. Don’t know if that’s me being too hard on myself or just the ugly truth I don’t want to face up to. I am afraid I have kidded myself all my life. That I imagine my life is one way when in truth it’s not, it’s just me telling myself something to make me feel better. And you know what? I’m too afraid to find out the truth. I’m too afraid to put it out there and ask. *sigh* I think I know the answer, and it isn’t what I hope for. I think I’ve ruined T’s life. Or, if not ruined, at least effed it up. My best memories are with T, and all he can say in reply is that I’m a pain in his ass. I’m a pain. In the ass. Not: you make me laugh. Or: I have good memories with you, too. No. I’m a pain in his ass. And you know why he puts up with it? Because dad asked him to. Because dad asked him to look after me. He did it for dad, not for me. By that time, dad knew I was deeply depressed. He’d accepted that fact. And he knew I just didn’t do well on my own. I needed someone to be there. So T took on the job and that’s that. But it’s not a job he particularly enjoys.

I suppose I should be pleased that I at least have my medications. It’s got to make dealing with me easier.

Okay. I just put my mood right down in the basement. But I think I need to sit here for a bit. Live with that pit in my stomach feeling for a few heartbeats. If I’m going to learn how to face up to THAT reality, I have to take it slow. Small bites of bitterness and pain. It’s overwhelming to me. A total shift in what I believe to be. … Yeah. And he just recently said to me, as we were discussing all the great reasons why we like living here, that one of them for me was that euthanasia is legal here so I can check out whenever. Goddess, I hope that wasn’t a subtle hint.

Think of it like ice, Beeps. Take small and steady steps.

A real mess

Got out yesterday for a walk. It was a perfect day: sunny, deep blue skies, warm but not too warm, a little breeze to move your hair. The more I walked, the sadder I became. Just kept thinking about Sable, my last cat. My whole body ached with missing him. So I did what I always do when that occurs: I began talking out loud to him, telling him again how there was no other choice, how he couldn’t have survived the move or if he did, he would have been absolutely despondent here. But he was my baby, my boo. We snuggled and loved each other for years. We even had our arguments. I held him as he died. …Goddess, that pain feels as fresh as it was when it happened. Better to not dwell too much on it. Needless to say, I was feeling close to tears yesterday while out on my walk. And then, it happened. A black lab came up to me for some attention while out on a walk with his person. I turned the corner, feeling a bit better, and met a new cat. Beautiful markings. Very friendly. So I received both dog and cat love yesterday, which bucked me up a lot.

Man, I really need an animal friend in my life. Full time. My emotions would be better, I think. My depression would be less. But this is a really small space. A really small space. I don’t think it’s possible.

You have no idea how much that hurts. The knowledge that, as long as we live in this flat, I can’t have an animal friend live with me. We had a whole house in Ireland, so Sable had loads of room and had no problem respecting T’s room boundary. In fact, it became a bit of a joke in the house. My cat hated it when we rehearsed or recorded music. So he’d come up to the studio room and stand outside. The studio was next to T’s bedroom. The cat would wait until either of us looked at him, then he’d raise one of his paws like he was about to put it down in T’s room, which he wasn’t allowed in. He’d actually do that. Smart cat. Anyway… I can’t do it here. Not now. If it was just me in the place, I could. But with T and his allergies, he’d have no chance of getting away from the dander.

I feel distinctly lonely today.

Here I am, waiting for the repair guy to show up. He’s due in an hour and a half. Then T comes back and has his guitar lesson at 3 or 3:30. Hopefully the repair dude will be on time and out of here by then.

Wednesday will be another thing altogether. Getting my braids out beginning at 1 pm. I’ve got two hours scheduled in for that. Really getting worried about my hair at this point. Trying to be gentle with it. Not that I’m really rough with my hair to begin with! But I’m worried that as the braids come out and they start their comb through, a lot more hair will break off. Really short, too. Oh, man. Even imagining my hair that short after this length makes me feel awful. Just a real drop in my stomach. Cutting it off to my shoulders, okay. But cutting it within an inch of my skull is really short, and that’s where the braid that broke. I’m worried that they’ll see it and say: there’s nothing to cut. What if that happens all over my head?

Fu-u-u-uck. Stop right there. You don’t need to borrow trouble. What happens on Wednesday happens. It’s not like you pulled that braid out on purpose, or twirled it until the hair broke. It just gave out. And if that’s what’s happened to your hair, then it’s better to cut it all off and regrow it and you know that. So stop worrying.

Yeah. If you’re gonna worry, worry about something real. Like the fact that you put on one of your older, treasured T shirts that used to be roomy on you and now it’s tight because you’re fat, fat, FAT!

That’s absolutely true. It ain’t helpin’, though. Not much can help me right now. Getting out for another walk would be great, but I don’t want to chance that the repair guy will be early.

Seeing Dr T on Thursday. Super-duper. What up? Depression. Anything new? No, because I’m depressed. And then it will be a discussion about my medication levels. I don’t want to keep taking more and more pills. And I DO think if I could get back onto a regular gym rotation I’d feel better overall. I’ve just had strategically placed appointments all over my life that keep preventing me for one reason or another. Like today: I’m waiting in case this guy is early. And I don’t know how long he’ll take so I can’t exactly plan anything. This stuff keeps coming up. And if it isn’t the appointments, it’s my RA or the rain or me just feeling like I can’t.

Telling myself to hang in there. Keep trying, even if that means I only think about exercise rather than doing it. Just continue to bring it to mind. Eventually I’ll bug myself enough I’ll go. And let go of the hair thing. Let go of all of that. It’s not helping me at all.

Nor is T’s ignoring my preferences. He found and bought a copy of The Mothman Prophecies and it’s a film I really want to see again. Two nights in a row he’s asked me what I want to watch. Both nights I’ve said The Mothman Prophecies. Both nights we have NOT watched The Mothman Prophecies, but his choices. And his latest choice is a mini-series that was cut into a film. We got through 3 hours last night and we’ll have to watch the other half now before we move onto anything else. T apologised last night when he realised he’d really put MY preferences off. I mean, why the fuck ask me if you just go and ignore what I fucking want? Really fucking pissing me off with that shit. And of course we’ll also miss Wednesday because of band rehearsal. I made him absolutely promise me that on Thursday evening, we’ll watch The Mothman Prophecies. Fucking finally.

And I swear, if he talks through it there might be another murder in NL…

I’m not good. Angry and depressed and totally fucking out of sorts. I hate this.

I’ve also had it with T telling me I just watched the one film he’d set his heart on watching that evening. Holy hell. You have NO IDEA how guilty he makes me feel for watching something we’ve both seen. Something that’s fucking sitting on our many shelves of DVDs. But NOOOOOOOOooooooo! I pick it up and watch it the very afternoon he’s decided THAT’S the film or show he’s just GOT to fucking watch that night. Not that he tells me that. Oh, he’ll make me decide at 9 am what I want for dinner that night but he won’t tell me he’s made up his mind for entertainment and please don’t fucking watch it that very afternoon, okay? No. Then he takes the opportunity to make me feel fucking guilty for not being able to read his fucking mind.

Oh, I’d better get off this damned blog. I keep digging and there’s just more and more and more shit coming out. It’s like one of my sores from my pustular psoriasis. When it finally breaks open, it’s a real mess.

That’s me. A real mess.

No reason at all

Today’s fare? Top Gun Maverick. Goddess, I’m effing bored. I really don’t like Tom Cruise films. I think he’s a dick, so I don’t support him or his films. But it’s free on our box and I haven’t seen it and I certainly CANNOT watch one more cartoon in Dutch. So it’s on. Even tho I’ll end up just picking it apart.

T went to the gym. Again. I wake up and he’s gone. Comes back around 10. It makes me feel even more lazy. But the weather continues to be very humid, the most awful type of weather for me. And all plans for cleaning have gone out the window because T is finally building some extra DVD shelves for the front room and he’s going back and forth all day long. No cleaning because we’d be in each other’s way.

I don’t feel quite as depressed as I did a day or two ago. I hope that means my good intentions for getting up and cleaning are helping my mood. Doubt it.

Did my feet yesterday. Soaked, cleaned up the cuticles, cut and scraped under the nails and THEN applied my ointment. Realised I’m just not taking care of me these days. I only shower before band rehearsal so I don’t stink badly. My shrink has told me this IS depression: not showering, not doing anything, feeling like shit all the time. I’m trying to be more aware of that. Pull myself up as best as possible.

Hair: well, I’m not quite as upset as I was. If the braids come out and I have a lot of breakage, I’m cutting it off. I almost feel like I’m looking forward to cutting it. So I may cut it off no matter what. We’ll see what’s left and in what condition it’s in.

I just don’t feel ready to join life. Can’t find a reason to. Nobody cares. If I died right here in this chair in the next minute, I don’t think anyone would come to the services except for T. There may be one or two who would like to in the US, but cost and all the rest would prevent it. Fu-u-u-uck. That’s making my depression feel all the worse. Let’s just drop that subject.

T shoved the phone in my hands the other day. The repair guy called about my bedroom window which I just can’t close anymore. I think it’s badly warped. It wasn’t easy for years and this year, with all this high humidity, it’s become impossible to close. That was fine all summer. Just kept it cracked for some fresh air. But now winter is coming and I need it to close. So I wrote to the landlord, who passed my message on to the repair guy, who was calling on the phone in Dutch and T just couldn’t do it. Little wonder; the repair guy spoke fast and he’s not the clearest speaker. I found it difficult. But I heard Monday and 2 pm and got the gist. Monday will be busy! T’s at language class, then home for lessons around 3pm. I have to be here for a 2pm window repair. With luck, the guy will come in, sand down the sides, and be gone before T’s lesson starts. Otherwise… Well, it will be interesting. This is a small place.

Oh, this next week will be busy. Almost wrote (and left) ‘next week will be interesting‘ but we all know what they say about THAT statement.

No reason to curse myself. No reason at all.

Take the win

Oh, dear Goddess!

I feel like a real heel. Heard from my friend B. Her daughter died over the summer. And her daughter was only 47. There I was, replying, and telling her about my damned depression and I felt just SO shitty because she’s lost a daughter and I was talking about trying not to cry when I woke up. It just all seemed so trite and meaningless. No; I felt trite and meaningless. And I know clinical depression is different from mourning. I know that. It’s not helping to know that. I still feel like a shit. And of course B responded quickly to me, bucking me up because that’s who she is.

Today’s forecast has one word in it: rain. All day long. Rheumatoid arthritis sufferers like me are under high alert for problems, ie, pain. Pain. Expect it. Plan your effing day around it, because you won’t be able to escape.

And naturally, I hit a blood vessel while taking my shot this morning. Should have a lovely bruise later on.

Plus I have a headache.

Let’s see. Is there anything else I can belly ache about? Absolutely. Pick it and I’ll pick it apart. I’m just in that type of mood today.

So the curtains are closed and I’m watching a film I enjoy. I need to get out and get more paracetamol. That, or send T off for it. He’ll pick some up for me no problem. He’s real good that way.

And I want to hit another problem area in the house and clean it well. Even if it’s not really seen because the area is so piled up with stuff and all I can really do is take everything out of that small spot, wipe it all down, clean the floor, and put it back again. I know it’s done and I try to take that as something I can hold onto. I think I went over by the coffee machine (the area I cleaned yesterday) 10 times. Just stood there and looked down where there used to be a big coffee stain on the floor from dripping coffee pots/cups. Spotlessly clean now. The rest you can’t see. At all. But like I said: I know it’s done. And it feels good. There’s only one problem. We have so many of these problem spots built up with stuff that I can’t get to all of them before I have to clean the whole flat again. *sigh* The shelves in my room are already covered in dust. How I HATE dust! It’s a losing battle, like trying to keep your face from aging or your boobs from sagging. You’ll never win. Never, ever.

You’d think I’d be used to those no-win situations by now. But no. Every damned time it irritates me. Drives me up the effing wall because I really don’t know why I try when I can never win. I suppose I just shouldn’t look at it like a win or lose thing. That would solve it, right? But I feel righteous when I’ve cleaned. Like I’ve overcome a great adversary. So the opposite feelings are normal, right? Do you guys feel this way or is it just me? Somebody please tell me it’s not just me.

Well, what are my wins lately? My plants, for one. I re-potted the poor thing I found near the trash bin. It’s growing like mad. Wonderful to see all that deep, lovely green poking out of the ground. My other babies are doing well, too. And our tree remains a centre point in our chaotic living room. Even if the room is messy looking, you can’t negate that tree. It almost hits the ceiling at this point. Another dumpster save. I tend to love my dumpster saves more than store bought plants. They need more love when they’ve been discarded, you know? And when you see them come back to life it’s so rewarding. T has even suggested that I should try for a job at a nursery because I work so well with plants. That would be great, other than all the physical work needed. I couldn’t keep up with it.

I can’t come up with anything else, so I won’t delve deeper into that topic.

I’ll just take the win.

Get through it

Still down. Hating it.

Managed to get up and clean the past couple of days. An hour here, an hour there. Hitting the trouble areas that don’t usually get cleaned well. In other words, I’m sitting on the floor scrubbing something that’s really, really dirty. Not doing too much because it’s humid and bad for my RA. Not doing nothing at all because that really won’t help my depression. And I’m not going to the gym because my hands regularly hurt me just picking things up like, oh, my laptop. Or my water bottle.

So T gently approached me the other day to ask about my book. He’s been on me for over a year to re-release it here in NL. I’d managed to pull up my original manuscript that includes several appendices I didn’t have in my Irish release. But that was it. Oh, I looked at it here and there. But I didn’t go in for re-writes or big corrections. Anyway, I had to ‘fess up to basically doing nothing with it. He’s asked for and received the manuscript from me so he can put in the work to get it published. I…I just can’t get all that excited. Oh, I may sell a copy or two, but that will be it. It’ll be a lot of work for very little return and I am just sick to death of that. Had to admit to that, too, because T asked the big question: Why? Why wasn’t I more excited about it? Why this, why that? So I told him how effing lousy I’ve generally felt this year. My RA has been bad. I seem to get to the gym for a week or two or even a month and then I get hit with bad RA or my feet fall apart or I hurt myself or whatever. In short, I feel like I’m making zero progress. At the gym AND in life. And I’m so fucking depressed by this seeming mountain of obstacles I have to somehow find the energy to get myself over at a time when it feels like a big deal to get up and do my fucking laundry. And I am so, so VERY sick of working and working and perfecting and sweating and working some more and then getting fucking nowhere with it.

…So I’ve been in touch with the salon to try and schedule an appointment to get my braids out. Yeah. That turned into a fiasco (which is NOT helping me). At first I did it online. I said I wanted two appointments because last time I think it took a full hour to get my braids out. But that was a problem for some reason. Goddess! I had a back and forth with someone who didn’t know me. Someone who finally passed my number onto M, the person who does my braids. And of course M tried to call me on the morning I got up to find that once again my phone had died overnight. I have an appointment next week. Which is good, because – and I really hate to say this – my hair broke and one of my braids came out. Yep. I have a near bald spot on my head. Lucky for me, it’s on the bottom row of my hairline. But I’m really, really bothered by it. Granted, it’s not a LOT of hair. That row had more extensions than my actual hair. But my hair broke. My hair doesn’t break easily. But it seems the braids really do a number on me. So I want them out and I want them to be VERY careful. But all of this appointment making was done online. Again. So I didn’t bring it all up because it’s a lot of English to throw at them. They’ll see what’s happened when I walk in.

And the weather is grey and cool and humid, which means I’m not feelin’ great.

Mostly I just feel down. Really down. And it feels right now like I have a lot dragging me down. Fighting it as best I can, but it’s winning. I’m not in tears. I guess that’s a small victory. And I’ve assured myself that if all my hair breaks when they take out the braids, well, that’s a reason to have this long hair cut short. Also, the gym. It ain’t going anywhere. I made it back before; I’ll make it back again.

I’ll get through this. Maybe not with my long hair. Maybe still with all this extra weight on me. But I will get through it.

Where I’ll leave it

I feel like shit. I am so fucking depressed.

Does not matter that I know it’ll get better. Does not matter that yes, I’ve been taking my fucking pills. I am in the toilet today. So I thought I’d come out here and share it with you.

Okay. Physical check-in. My RA has eased off. I had some back problems, but diligently doing the simple exercises my fysiotherapist recommended cleared up that issue. My feet have been healing. They look much better now. I feel like I’m ready to get back to some exercise. Naturally, I’ve band tonight so today isn’t the day to do THAT. If I’m rambunctious tomorrow, I can go to the gym. Better make sure I charge my ancient iPod. Just in case.

Can’t seem to get my enthusiasm up for band. Ugh. I mean… It’s not horrible, I guess. I do have fun playing simple songs. But I don’t really enjoy much of the music. It’s not my thing. Would never be in any rotation I ever made. And honestly, the couple of songs I DO enjoy have been kind of sucked of all enjoyment because our leader sings them and in my opinion he doesn’t do them all that well. Part of that is how much he’s flattened songs. He’ll change chords or just ignore some changes. Which is weird, because we actually do an original of his and in THAT song, the chords change at least every 2 measures. He doesn’t drone at all. Which means he doesn’t groove, either. He’s very squared off. So is our drummer. Square-ish. Our drummer isn’t all that great and I end up listening to the bass for my timing rather than the drums.

Throw all of those feelings on top of my general depression and I’m just. not. there. I’d rather hang here at home today and get going for sure to the gym early tomorrow. But I have this commitment.

Trying to lighten my mood as much as possible. Watching good entertainment. Horror. When I’m like this, only people dying gives me any sort of fun. Is that terrible? I don’t even know, to be honest. But I can’t count on anything else helping me to pass the time because everything else has, at one time or another, irritated me anyway. So I watch people die in films.

Been thinking of popping an extra happy pill today. Probably won’t, but that’s where I’m at.

Took my super long nails down. I’m happy and not happy about that. Happy because I can type again without issue. Not happy because I liked seeing them on me. The only bright spot is it won’t be long before I can go through this whole decision making process again.

And then there’s my hair. Really thinking to myself: Am I sure I think I can take all these braids out? And am I sure I want to do all that work? Lots of back and forth with that, let me tell you! Oh, I’ll break down and ask for 2 appointments back to back. No, I’ll do it myself and it won’t be all that bad. I don’t think I’ve landed on a ‘decision’ for more than half a day before the opposite becomes the thing to do. It’s really irritating me, because I don’t enjoy being indecisive. Even though I often am.

So, yeah. I can’t even make a simple decision about getting my braids out and make it stick right now.

But I am sure of one thing: this band commitment makes me wary of making any plans too far in the future. I don’t like being tied down to this time or day because I have zero surety of getting there and feeling good. If it ain’t physical with me it’s mental and vice versa.

Okay. Let’s try and do this. Band will be a great thing tonight. It will get me up, moving, a bit of exercise dragging around that heavy effing case and my keys… No. Bad start. Try again. Band will be a great thing tonight. I’ll get some fresh air and do something fun and creative in a group setting. I’ll be taken out of my head and into music. It will make me feel better. I’ll come home feeling more positive about me and life in general than I feel now.

That’s what I want, so that’s where I’ll leave it.

Make that work

Funny how just a few words can really turn things around. I had my blood and urine tests yesterday. As I left the clinic, the sun was shining and there were no rain clouds nearby, so I decided to walk home and get some exercise and fresh air. Nothing really of note, except that I passed a black woman on the pavement and she turned around and made sure I heard ‘mooi haar’ (nice hair). Such a grin I got! People look at me with this hair. I’m not always sure they think it’s cool. In fact, there are times I think I’m riling people up with it. So to hear a compliment on my hair from a black woman was a big deal. It set me grinning like an idiot for the rest of the day.

Today it’s band rehearsal. No drums. We’re gonna have to bring the drum machine, which means T is lugging around a bunch of extra stuff. And it’s raining and expected to continue raining all day and night. Ugh.

Every day I get up hoping the weather might have improved overnight. No such luck. I think we’re rolling onto 2 weeks straight of health warnings for RA. I’m seeing ‘extreme’ used as a warning. That’s a hell of a warning. And I tend to not do much when I see that. It’s part of the ‘me taking care of me’ stuff I’m trying out. Trying to find reasons to get out for a walk, like I did yesterday. No heavy gym push, just walk.

Well, I gotta go back to the mall and return this damned alarm clock. It’s a little digital thing and there’s no button for the alarm. I just can’t get it to work. So it’s going back and I’ll try to find something better. Don’t think I’ll do it today, but it will get done this week. I don’t have much time left.

I feel sad a lot of time. Not sure why, but I’m noticing it. I’ll just find myself sitting and thinking and suddenly realise I feel down. I don’t want more meds. But I don’t know what’s going on with me. I’m having a difficult time dropping the excess weight I’ve gained. Telling myself I just need more work and time, but it would help to see a slight improvement now and then, you know? I’m feeling a bit down most of the time and telling myself it’s temporary. That when the sun shines I’ll feel better overall. When I get more exercise I’ll be back on top. All of that.

*sigh* And my anxiety is growing. These are tests I can’t study for. I can’t improve my results by anything. I just have to wait and see if they find anything wrong with me. I mean… I’m the person who, despite trying not to, will hold her breath when her blood pressure is taken to ‘improve’ the results. Silly, right? But I do it even tho I try not to. And my anxiety isn’t only due to my health situation. The current political sphere in the US is doing its share as well.

So I remember my compliment and keep it close to me. I hold it like a teddy bear, clutched to my heart. It helps. I feel very shallow for admitting that, but it’s the truth. A couple of kind words from a stranger means a lot to me.

Ugh. My psoriasis is just roaring right now. Had to puncture a blister on my foot last night. It was rather large and right on the bottom of my foot. Hurt with every step and showed no sign of going away. The docs tell me I shouldn’t puncture them, but if it’s in a problem spot I’ll do it. THAT was a problem spot. And my feet look awful. Just awful.

Makes me glad we have such cool weather. Still not getting above 18C and very windy. I actually have to wear a hoodie during the day. And I put a small blanket over my legs at night because I just feel too cold. I still see no forecast change on that. Every day, it’s rain, wind, and cooler temps. So I’m not even tempted to wear sandals. My poor ugly feet remain under wraps and no one knows but me.

At least my hair looks good. And people other than me appreciate the look.

I’ll make that work for today.

I shouldn’t be surprised

Slept 11 hours straight and still feel like I could sleep more. This is rheumatoid arthritis. The ache in my joints. The absolute dead exhaustion. The desire to just sleep my entire life away. I can’t rest enough to get any energy. I’m just on empty.

T has been up for hours and out of the house shopping. Yeah. Let’s make me feel even worse because my partner is so damned energetic. Well, that’s what I get for pairing up with a manic phase person. He doesn’t blame me for how I feel. He’s been around since the beginning of this and knows how it affects me. I think in T’s book, if I’m not crying uncontrollably and begging him to knock me out so I don’t have to experience the pain I’m feeling, I’m doing well. And he wouldn’t be wrong in that assessment.

Battled my depression yesterday. Stuff kept coming up and I kept hitting it with my positives. Gods, that was bad! Not that today feels much better, but yesterday it was depression then make my brain think of positive stuff, feel a bit better, and then I’d get hit again by some errant thought that would bring my entire mood back down to my toes. I consider yesterday a victory, though. I didn’t fall into tears and I didn’t give up trying to feel better.

But now, with my RA active… Bad enough that I have ONE of these things to battle on a regular basis. No! The universe had to give me TWO horrible conditions to battle every damned day of my life. Someone is really gonna have the riot act read to them once I’m dead.

And T hit me with a ton of questions this morning. Do I want 2 chicken breasts or 4 made into sate? What do I think of the colour version of his big book? What colour do I think the spine should be in? *sigh* I tried to stay with him. Give him considered and thoughtful answers with solid reasoning behind them. I just couldn’t. When he asked me about spine colours, I just couldn’t. It seems so damned petty to me. Who’d notice if the words on the spine were grey or brown? Maybe one in a million. And then they’d have to have ordered in every version of the book to notice. Gods!

I’m too tired to make decisions.

Does not help that the weather today isn’t what was predicted. Yesterday they said today was gonna be sunny with blue skies and warm temps. Got up to a total white-out fog. And it’s a cold fog. So it isn’t as warm as they thought. Well, that’s null for three. We don’t have sun, we don’t have blue skies, and we don’t have the warmth promised. If we did, I might be tempted into getting up off my ass and going for a good walk. As it is, I’m perfectly fine sitting in my chair in the dark with the curtains closed, watching films. Yep.

So happy holidays if you’re someone who celebrates these religious days. Easter. Never did fully understand Easter. And Ramadan. And some other Jewish holiday, the name of which escapes me. Sorry about that; no diss intended. I’m just tired and out of it. All I know for certain is Monday is a closed day here. Nothing will be open. That’s about all I need to know regarding holidays: when the shops will be closed.

*sigh* I wish I felt better.

I wish I didn’t struggle with depression.

And while I’m at it, I wish I was prettier and thinner and much, much richer. But then I’d probably be the type of person I hate. Or at least dislike.

Have been going back and forth with the idea that I send a note out to my Aunt L about how much her silence and ghosting of me has hurt me. Part of me would like to do that, and include plenty of blame in the note. That wouldn’t go down well at all. I know that. Then I think that maybe I could write that note and NOT include any blame. If I’m careful and ask T to read it through and give me his opinion on it. I think I could do that. But then I ask myself how I’d feel if I sent out a heartfelt, honest note and never got a reply. And that makes me think I shouldn’t do it at all. Why set myself up for more pain? If L chooses to believe my DNAsis and all her lies, that’s on her. I never asked L to take sides. I only ever asked her to stop blowing off what I was saying and take me seriously. I was honest with her, in other words. But this is my mother’s family. I should have known honesty isn’t something they can handle. C couldn’t do it. Why should any of her siblings be able to be honest? So that’s been going around in my brain without end. I just keep vacillating. My guess is that I still really want a connection with L. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t keep going around in circles like this. But I can’t help feeling that that would be a mistake. I had to cut out my DNAsis totally because I find her so toxic. L could easily be that as well, just in a different package. And I’m so done with my mother’s family brand of toxicity and lies.

The best thing is to just leave it. Never send off that message. Though a big part of me STILL wants L to know how much she’s hurt me.

But that would just alert these people to a weakness they could exploit in me. I’m done being exploited by them.

So I will be strong. I will resist the temptation to write to L. I will keep my messages to Uncle D brief and unemotional. And general. He can’t deal with too much info. Or too much honesty. Well, he’s from the same family line. I shouldn’t be surprised.

Think on that

I was wiped out yesterday. Had two days of strolling around the neighbourhood. Not walking. Strolling. Taking it easy, watching how fast and far I go, etc. Not strenuous. But it was enough. I woke up after a solid (barely moved during the night) sleep and felt as tired and worn out as I did when I went to bed. Better today, but taking it easy. My hips hurt like hell yesterday. Every time I got up I felt it. Every time I walked around the flat I felt it. DAMN! Long covid sucks shit.

Managed to get a bit of tidying up done. Working on my plants. They’ve all gone way too long and look terribly straggly. They’re perpetual growers, tho. Have one hairline root and it’ll go nuts with enough time. I’m trimming off some small green spots and rooting them out. I’ll get rid of the old plants once I’ve done enough for a new batch of babies. And maybe I’ll buy a new plant. Spider plant or something. I could use some variety.

Decisions. I think I’ve come to a few. Thought and thought and thought about what I could do with the money uncle D gave me. Do not want to spend it all; a few thousand in reserve will alleviate a lot of stress in this household. But there are many things I’ve held back on because of financial concerns. First thing: get that dental work done. I’m seeing my dentist in July and will talk with her about it. Second thing: seek out a good language course that will prep me for my needed language tests and/or office work. If I can get those two things done I’ll be all ready for a job. Other than my constant exhaustion, that is.

Felt pretty down yesterday. I’ll chalk it up to my RA being active. Smoked my way out of it. Somehow marijuana works for me against depression. Either that, or I just don’t care so effing much once I’m high. Don’t know or care; I only care if it works for me. Couldn’t get Aunt L’s silence out of my mind. Just felt down. And I kept reminding myself that the people who care about me now are so much more honest. So much more worthwhile. I even resorted to a few YouTube vids about nasty people in your life and how you’re much better without them. Can’t say any of that helped. But three hits into my bowl and I felt like, okay. Be that way. I’m better off without you around. I recognize I was looking at Aunt L as a mother replacement, and my ‘loss’ of her attention and communication just doubled up that ‘my mother never loved me’ feeling. Dangerous. I know I’ve been attracted to older women because of how C treated me. I’ve been looking for a new mother ever since I can remember. And a new sister. Both. Just older women in my life whom I can talk with and enjoy their company. I’m not real good at it. Right now, it’s my friend B, who’s more like a sister than a mother (though she flips between the two, and is wonderful, and I love her to bits for all her support). I don’t have anyone else. Isn’t that sad? To admit, at this point in my life, that I don’t have many people at all. Just a couple of them. They’re fiercely loyal. All of them. But my funeral will be very, very sparse.

Yeah. Funeral talk. I’m depressed.

Doesn’t help that Dr T, my shrink, keeps insisting I’m an outsider. I’m considering kicking him to the side for it. Discrimination. Sorry I’m not good at the language and I don’t act enough like a Dutch person for you to consider me integrated. But it’s becoming a thing between us now. If he says it one more time to me I think I’ll read him the riot act.

News: It’s weird right now. We keep having transportation accidents and that’s new. The latest is a barge that’s run into a bridge and cut off train travel for a bit. Then there was the entire crane debacle. And already there’s been at least one boat accident on the Maas. In past years, I’d hear about one transportation accident a year. Now it’s like every month or more. Language barriers? I don’t want to immediately point a finger at us foreigners, but I do know the level of language comprehension some people have is really low. Lower than me, and I feel like I need more instruction. And they have jobs out there. How often do they screw things up because they didn’t catch one important word in the instructions? A lot, I’m guessing. Then we’ve got a story about a garbage man who found an abandoned dog in the garbage. The animal is at a shelter, receiving an IV and care. How can anyone trust people who harm animals like that? I sure can’t. Anger and right wing bullshit is building here as well as in the US. And across Europe. Even into the Middle East with Israel. Every day I wonder if today is the day the war really begins. Of course, I’ve wondered that for years, so you don’t have to take me seriously. But it feels like we’re skipping right up to that point, delirious with our own consumerism and greed. And stupidity. Let’s not forget stupidity. Humans set in motion all of this. Mostly out of stupidity. Oh, we didn’t know that throwing anything away in a closed system will sooner or later create a cesspool. Seriously? I just don’t feel like you can say that. It’s obvious, isn’t it? Or is it just ME who sees all of this? Dear Goddess, don’t let it be the latter. Please. I don’t want to be the only seeing person in a world of blindness.

I should probably be working on something. Music or writing or language. Not doing any of that. And trying to not diss myself for NOT doing it. That’s the hardest part. Not riding myself so much that I can’t even effing relax. I recognise when it happens. I’ll begin to fall asleep in my chair or my bed and suddenly my eyes will pop open. No reason for it. And it’s almost a subconscious thing, like when your leg just kind of jerks uncontrollably.

So concentrate on some positives, Beeps. T is off doing things again and said he’d bring back some pide from Bab Tuma, the ultimate of ultimate food we like down at Markt Hall. YUM! I don’t hurt as much as I did. GOOD! Rest is helping me recoup. After a bit of research, I realised I won’t be spending loads of cash for more hair care products because I’ve already got half (or more) than what I need to style my hair for curls as well as braids. FANTASTIC! I made some very smart purchases and that’s good on me. I’m even up to date on my calendar. HURRAH! I won’t be forgetting my appointments.

See how many positives you can come up with, Beeps?

Think on that.