Song of the day: “I come undone” by Robbie Williams, and, “I would stay” by Krezip, and “Bad day” by Daniel Powter. Yep, there were plenty of songs ghosting through my head for the past couple of days, but these are the only ones that I can actually remember. Guess I’m being a tad flighty at the moment.
Today is grocery-shopping day (yes I’m thrilled…NOT) so it’s going to be busy, without anything to show for it at the end of the day…except of course full cabinets and a fridge with actual food in it. Right now, after little sister cleaned it, it looks a little like one of those show models in the store with absolutely nothing in it. The one eggplant, leek and chunk of cheese, really don’t make for much fill. Hah.
I, of course totally freaked out this morning when I discovered that the coffee grind supply hadn’t lasted through two weeks, which means that I have to make due without my actual boost of leaded fuel this morning. It ain’t pretty, I tell you. I need at least two big mugs to get my engine started, and I’m not there yet. Frugalness only goes as far as the cigarettes at the moment, thank you very much. I’m keeping my dependency of caffeine for the time being, and what with already having saved 20 bucks on a week of not smoking, I’m thinking I’m doing an excellent job of it. Hah
Enough of that, let’s get on with the sum up of the past couple of days: Sleeping has been a bit of a trying experience still, for some peculiar reason. This night wasn’t too bad, but the one before it (I was exhausted and fell asleep while working on my computer even) I hardly slept a wink. I could get annoyed by it, seeing as I don’t appreciate feeling tired, but the way I figure, if the ol’ bod wants to throw up a fuss and suffer sleep deprivation (apparently it’s not all that bad, if it were I’d sleep) well, “have at it”. I’ll live my life and the bod can either get with it, or drop dead…in a manner of speaking…sorta. Hah.
I’ve found that having a rather stern attitude towards my body’s complaints is becoming to be effective. I mean, in the past, like from age thirteen ‘till twenty-seven I was getting only sicker, in body and mind alike. I had severe back problems, joint pains, health issues like six months of the year, bronchitis, laryngitis, diarrhea, vomiting and then getting more overweight with every passing year while popping handfuls of pills by the day.
So, two years ago I think it was, I got fed up with it all. I had a serious conversation with myself (had a mental sit-down, if you will) and decided that either this vessel, I like to call my body, was going to “cowboy the fuck up” or proof to me that things were really so bad I could drop dead at any moment. I weaned myself off medications, which the whiny part of my brain insisted I needed. I started eating for real, meaning I ate when I was hungry and ate well from all the basic food groups, and doing the things I had been dreaming of doing for the past decade or two when aches all over kept me sitting on my butt.
Gawd, it was tough, scary as all hell (got through the first year on the mantra “I don’t care about things I cannot change” with the footnote, “everything is changeable”) and a seemingly slow progress while going through it, but things are definitely looking up now. It is amazing how much the body trick you by being whiny. Most of the time (within reason of course) when my body tells me, this is too much, rest for God’s sake, it doesn’t know what the heck it’s talking about. Seriously, take lifting rocks for instance. I started with normal sized ones, forty pounds at most, but then, slowly, steadily, I would start looking at the bigger ones, and just tried…nine times I could lift those that annoying part of my brain said I couldn’t lift without pulling out my “weak” back once. The funny thing is, even the rocks I tried to lift and couldn’t just because they were too big…this is really funny. I would try, and then when I didn’t manage it, I would shake my head, pick up a smaller one and bring that away. After a few more rocks, before I managed to think about it, worry about the weight of it, I’d go back to that big rock, and lift it after all with very little extra effort. How’s that for the body acting weird? It’s screaming at me that I can’t do something (I swear, if I listened to it, I’d be on my deathbed now) when every time it turns out that I can. What’s up with that? Why has the body become so friggin’ whiny? What does it gain from it? It is almost as if I am fighting a constant battle with the enemy: “my body” because it would much rather be sick and tired in a chair, vegetating in front of the TV.
And it’s not just me, the same is happening with the sibs, who were afflicted with similar health problems for years. Heck, even little brother’s asthma is becoming a thing of the past. In the past when he got in dusty areas he’d be hacking like a donkey and turn all pale, yet now he is just working in it, cleaning it, with barely any problems whatsoever.
Gawd, if I think of how much we spent on medications in the past, painkillers, valium, flu meds, and about every nutritional supplement you can think of…why, the mere thought gives me a nightmarish feel.
I’m still not where I wanna be, (at the moment I am testing the theory of: the sky’s the limit, I’ll let you know if I ever reach it, hah) but the quality of life has definitely improved vastly.
There is eighty pounds less of me to haul around, which is a rather pleasant side effect (I actually climbed a tree the other day without hardly any effort whatsoever). I jog up the mountain these days, which means that stuff gets done faster…and lots gets done. Boy does it ever. There are days now when I stand on the new terrace under my cabin and look around, I barely recognize the place. So much has changed in just a couple of years. ‘Tis truly amazing.
I guess that fear, such as the conviction that you’re going to die the way I did, is a good thing. Taking that risk, and I mean, really take it; go for life with a full 110 percent of effort thrown into it, no matter what, is a good thing. It takes effort, and you have to push that fear brutally aside lest it immobilizes you, but I’m noticing it in every little I thing I do. Now, when I think I am unable to do something (thus feel tempted to just not try) I ask myself, and I mean literally ask: “How do you know? How do you know you can’t if you don’t try?”
Which can of course lead to entire debates with myself. *sigh*
Me: “Why don’t just try this?”
Whiny: “Because when you tried the last time, you failed. And doesn’t that feel horrible enough?”
Me: “Just because I didn’t manage it the last time, doesn’t mean I can’t do it now. And not trying it, won’t make me feel any better? This way I have a chance, at least.”
Whiny: “But it’s so much effort.”
Me: “It isn’t. If I don’t take time for stuff, I’ll have it.”
Whiny: “But sitting down and watching a nice movie is much nicer?”
Me: “Is it? Watching an adventurous life on a screen or living it? Tough choice that.”
Whiny: “But you’ll get tired and achy.”
Me: “I got tired and achy when I sat in a chair all day too. Heck, back then I was on five to six painkillers a day and I didn’t DO anything.”
Whiny: “But it isn’t fun.”
Me: “What isn’t?”
Whiny: “Mopping floors, doing laundry, cleaning up dogs crap, everything.”
Me: “Why not? That is life, isn’t it? And I can enjoy every aspect of it, if I decide to. That’s my decision, that’s my choice, and I will bloody well make it!”
Whiny: “But why? It’s easier to relax. Just rest a bit. Stop fighting me.”
Me: “But I’m not tired, and I am not fighting you. You relax, we’ll stop arguing now. I won’t do it. We’ll just sit on our butts all day, just wait and see.”
Which results in me taking my time getting to wherever I want to go and then doing it anyway before Whiny can have a say. Hah. Yes, one has to be sneaky when one deals with the monster within. Usually it isn’t worth the battle, really, so I don’t fight it. I let it go and then sneak right past the moment Whiny thinks it has won. Much easier that way, really. Before Whiny figures it out, it’ll be over and done with. Hahaha.
Talk about MPD, huh? But I’m serious, ya gotta try this sometimes when something inside you is throwing up a fuss without good ‘cause (and believe me, it can be tricky in coming up with all sorts of “valid” reasons why NOT to do something). Just take that risk of sacrificing five minutes to something that needs to be done, but you just “don’t feel like”. You might actually end up surprised.
Sometimes I think that our “safe” little world, all the safety nets that are there to catch us when we fall, the support, the comforts, and all those luxuries that we so easily take for granted in joy and misery alike, will be the death of us yet.
Taking some risks, saying yes to something that scares the hell out of you, or which that whiny part of yourself protests to, is a good thing. Think when you do something, don’t just do it by rote, whether it is a boring task, or something you really enjoy. If you don’t decide to make the effort to find pleasure in it, you’re guaranteed the result of utter crappiness. It is a valuable lesson I’ve learned.
But enough maudlin, didn’t mean to bore you there with thoughts that have been tumbling through my brain for way too long. Hah. Let’s get back to the sum up, eh?
So yeah, our tenant’s exercises are going well; her use of the cane is getting to be skilled now, and her footing is much firmer. We actually heard that back in the day, when she was still in the hospital, her doctors said that it was unlikely that she would recover (ever) from such a massive stroke. Well, she proved them wrong, didn’t she? Sure, she has her down days, don’t we all, but on the overall she is really making an effort in taking life by the horns and enjoy every second it.
My shelves are done, yay. They look beautiful, and I will post pics soon. I’m not entire sure yet, but I think all the books actually fit…I’ll have to start the statue casings that I intend to put up on the other wall, maybe add another shelve or two for books yet, but I think it will look even better by then.
I also exchanged my wooden couch with the spring love seat from our office, seeing as it is a bit smaller and will allow for space, and it looks nice. I might have to refurbish it at some point…the dogs make a mess of upholstery, of course…but I like the new look.
Of course everything is covered in blood, because Knight II is still slamming his tail to pieces. I'm serious, I recently spent three hours cleaning surfaces from splatter, and already he's "spreadin' the wealth" again. He's such and idiot; he doesn't even seem to realize that he's literally smashing the bone against the wall when he gets excited. I'd have his tail removed to save him the agony, but it seems so extreme and action. He should quiet down a little when he gets older. (I hope!)
Big brother is finally starting to think of fixing up his room too. Up until now he has been nurturing the attitude of: I need a bed for sleeping and a trunk to throw my clothes in, but other than that I’m all set. Stop bugging me about it. *chortle*
I’ll get him converted yet. That room of his gives me the jeebies every time I look past it. Wow what a mess. But there are plans for closet space now, maybe a new floor at some point, which is really starting to be necessary at this point.
And…yikes. I just yapped on for four pages, and I still have to get to my friggin messages, darn it! Okay, I’ll wrap this up then.
Writing is still going, brought the manuscript up to the full half, yay, meaning that I wrote a hundred pages in the past two and half weeks. Not bad, not bad at all what with only the few hours a day available for writing.
Well, gotta go. Need to write some letters and then prepare to go out for groceries. I’m thrilled, I tell ya. Thrilled!
Hahaha.
