PART I: Malignant Narcissists, revisited.

This is part one of two.  Part two will be done and uploaded tomorrow....

Too soon?

Naaaaaah.  Not for me.

Not feeling it....

I've always liked decorating early for Christmas.  Dragging everything out of storage, opening boxes and bags, and decorating... takes a minute, so the idea of putting everything up for a couple of weeks after all that works just doesn't make any sense to me.  Plus, my inner child is alive and well and always excited about Christmas, decorating, hot chocolate with marshmallows, Christmas cartoons and movies and every single bit of tradition out there.  I'm all in for Christmas...usually.

The last few years, however, the excitement has dimmed to a dull hue of red and green, to be honest.  I pretty much know the 'why' of this, but I've struggled over the past 6-7 years or so to repair whatever is sucking the joy out of the holidays and restore it to it's former, magical splendor.  If only....

It's not enough to know what's wrong.  Everything I long for when the nostalgia takes hold are those things that are just out of my reach. My attempts to re-create what's lost have failed, and I'm finding myself depressed more and more each year by the holidays.  While this depression doesn't completely isolate itself to Christmas only, that's the one that is the most difficult to navigate.

I really just hate this.

What 'haven't' I tried to breathe life back into the holidays?

This house is decked out big time, and... I'm just not feeling it.  I walk through the house, and I really love what I see.  But something vital is missing, and it's been fading away for years.  Yeah, yeah, I know this sounds like such a downer, but for me it really is in so many ways.

When all the reaching for better, happier, more joyful falls to the wayside.. so do I.  Just a fact.  There isn't any real way for me to work through this by myself, because the problem isn't an unknown.  As weird as that sounds, it's true.  When you don't know what's wrong, your focus shifts to one of discovery.  But when you know what's wrong one of the first things that comes to mind, for me anyway, is "Okay.  Now what?"  And, unfortunately, that's where I'm stuck.

Tomorrow is another day, and I'm planning on digging into my web sites if I have enough energy to do so.  Maybe it will distract me, though I realize it won't solve anything.  I have to do something to fight my way out of this.

For the sake of this particular blog and it's 'intended' theme/focus, I will say that I'm doing well on my diet in the sense that I'm not having any urges to cheat etc., and in fact have been eating under my points (which can backfire on me later and likely will).

Okay, so.. no, I'm not making much sense at the moment.  I'm tired, so so tired.  I didn't sleep well last night which makes this all so much more intense, and in the wrong way.  At the urge of a couple of you, I'm trying, and that's about all I can promise I'll do right now.

Tomorrow is another day.  But today... I'm just not feeling it.

Post-Surgery Pain and the Damaging Effects of Indifference.

This is difficult.  Post-surgery for frozen shoulder and minor rotator cuff tear and I'm feeling like hell.    It will take a long time to recover and regain full use of my left arm, and dammit but it hurts to type.  I almost decided to do an audio blog but not enough privacy the last couple of days to do that.  So I'll make this just a quick check-in.

I'm not sleeping, mostly getting up several times a night to move my arm, elbow... to alleviate what pain I can.  This is often a tearful process.  I don't know when the big crash will come, but it will.  A human being simply can't withstand not sleeping like this.  On Wednesday, then on Saturday... things will change and hopefully for the better.

Sleeping on my side after this kind of surgery isn't the best idea, and it creates a world of pain, swelling to an unhealthy level in my arm.  This became the catalyst for ordering one of those Tempur Pedic beds.  NOT the cheapest thing in the world, but a very necessary one at this point as the healing process is going to take a long time.  So be it.  It's adjustable so I can support the back of my legs and have the back of the bed upright to manage sleeping without being on my side.  Saturday, a Laz-boy chair will arrive, and mostly for the same purpose.  As it stands now my options are to sit straight/upright or lay in a flat bed.  Both options mean pain and swelling.  But hey, those recliners are awesome and it's not like it won't be fully enjoyed way beyond the shoulder healing.

I suppose at this point I'm just rambling, but everything I am is consumed with the pain and trying to work past it without taking the powerful pain killers I was given.  The side effects sucks, and that means I'm making damn sure to take them sparingly.  But either way, my point is basically that I'll be dealing with this for a while and probably not making a lot of sense when I post.

There most likely won't be daily entries for a while, but I will try my best.

Post-surgery with all it's unbelievable pain has opened up a part of me that I really would rather leave closed, shut away, and ignored.  That echo chamber of the past and present merging in unsettling ways rumbles below the surface, always, making itself known at the darkest of hours and experiences.  I find myself unsettled---not just my circumstances or thoughts.  In the wee hours, especially when awakened by the almost ceaseless pain, true anxiety sets in and grips me.  Most of the time I can overcome it and get past it's frightening messages.  But then there are times when it takes hold and I find myself incredibly vulnerable and needing a strong, positive presence to jerk me back into a brighter reality.  Things is... I have no such strong, positive presence.  Yeah.
What to do with that.

As you guys know, indifference has been my companion.  T's indifference rears it's true self amidst the pain that really feels as if it's going to rip me apart.  You see, the first part of knowing how to squash pain naturally is to avoid stress at all costs, because stress destroy's the body's own ability to send much-needed pain killers to it's needed location.  Over time, especially in the presence of AI disease and fibromyalgia.... the breakdown of this mechanism is swift and brutal, leaving me without any natural defenses.  This sucks.

I've been brought to tears by the sheer intensity and duration of this pain, and the fibro is in a massive flare-up now, adding wide-spread, diffuse pain to that of the post-surgical.  While it's nothing to brag about, I will admit that I've been brought to my knees by the force of it all, crying so hard I felt as if my head would explode.  Late at night, when it's at its worst T will simply get up, stand there... and say nothing, do nothing, offer nothing.  I've had to tell him it's best he stay away rather than bring that indifference to the already miserable situation.

It is times like this that I long for "home," whatever and wherever that is.  No one to reach out to, to plead to, or talk to.  Not a parent, sibling, or best friend.  No one.  It's only when either by exhaustion or prescription intervention does the pain lessen a little, just enough for my mind to bring forth an image of a healthy, happy, joyful, fulfilled and pain-free me.  When I fall asleep... it sometimes carries me into dreaming, those thoughts.

My arm is in a lot of pain at the moment, so I'm going to sign off.  I hope that each day with willpower and physical therapy.. and even the weaker moments when I allow myself the prescription help to relieve the pain... maybe I'll get stronger, better.  I have 3 days of PT this coming week... and I pray it's the start to real recovery.

I need this pain to stop.  I really do.

Hopefully I can post tomorrow.

PS... I was amazed at how many page views Where Fireflies Dream received.... gave me a smile.

It's About Time.

When I first began blogging it was for one specific reason--venting.  I needed a place where I could get things off my chest that were bothering me so I could get on with life without cumbersome emotions or baggage.  I had ONE blog at that time.  When things got tough, and they often were, I would visit my blog and unload to my heart's content, not giving a single iota to being politically correct or holding back out of some delusion that I somehow had to be 'polite' here.  The venting would ensue, fall upon the screen, and I would be left to bask in the aftermath of some seriously epic purging of thoughts, feelings, and more.  In the end I would usually go back and delete the long-winded and emotionally-charged entries, knowing I could do so now that some time had past.  That blog still exists and I still post in it as often as possible, and I named it "All Things Ephemeral" for a reason, even if that reason no longer exists.  Let me explain....

A few years ago I made the decision to stop deleting the entries.  Being honest with myself I realized that I was deleting so as not to 'hurt feelings' of those I vented about.  No matter that I left off names and details that would give much away to the wrong set of eyes reading, I decided it was somehow 'impolite' to share even my feelings and experiences.  Boy, was that ever stupid.  I'm glad I came to my senses and stopped editing the content over some perceived butthurt it may cause someone else.  But, did I really stop editing my own entries after all?  Well, today I figured it was something worth investigating.

I often come here and stare at the blank screen where bits of my life would fall and wonder... "How can I actually talk about this?"  I know as I write just how much I'm holding back, even when I don't WANT to.  Still, the struggle to set myself free remains just that--a struggle, even today.  Even when I know the healthiest thing I can do for myself is write about it, get it out of my system, it's remains incredibly difficult just the same.

What I want very much to do right now is to take the first step in 'going there,' to talk openly instead of using a string of allusions to piece together a story that, when all is said and done, remains unclear and ill-explained because of that fear below the surface of truth.

A Bold First Step

My next blog entry will be in This Free Spirit, and I tell you this because it will ultimately be the first blog entry in many years where I hold little if nothing back.  With failing health I need all the help I can get to break the bonds of emotional servitude, and the first step is to open myself completely to the idea of 'almost' full disclosure.

Wish me luck....

I Shouldn't Have To...

Fight for my health.
Beg for understanding when I'm too sick.
Point out that someone isn't really listening.
Explain myself.
Be the one to show someone they're behavior isn't kind or compassionate.
Listen to silence after asking a question.
Be disrespected on a daily basis.
Allow myself to be demoralized by another's actions or inactions.
DREAM of living my life like it's MY life--I should be living it that way.

But honestly, one of the top things I shouldn't have to fight for being able to change my diet as my doctors urge.  When I'm told by my doctors there are certain things I have to avoid and things I need to focus on when it comes to my diet.  It's critical, because with the pre-diabetes issue, which is no laughing matter, I have to be diligent.  Where the diligence falls to the wayside are things that are out of my control, be it grocery shopping, choosing the food, and cooking.  I've said I'm sick, but I don't think people realize how sick.

I can't shop for groceries or cook right now.  I simply can't, even if I try very hard.  Without the gory details I can say that things are very bad for me right now, health wise, and I have to fight like hell to fix what's going wrong with my blood sugar.  My family history I can't afford to be lax.  My mom and oldest sister passed away due to diabetic complications.

I can't wish away pre-diabetes.  I can't sit here and hope that, out of the blue, things will right themselves.  It takes purposeful action.  I have to eat the right foods, cooked the right way, and scale back the stress and anxiety to a minimum.  Right now I'm with someone who isn't on board with this and who is just as happy to eat pizza and cookies as salmon and salad (my faves).

Well.  I have to stop here because I'm not feeling well.  But I will be revisiting this topic soon, most likely tomorrow.

And.. life goes on.....

One Hundred and Twenty One.

So far the numbers, the diagnosis... just fails to sink in.  But as I read articles and forums of people with pre-diabetes talking and sharing information I've come to realize one thing that is more than just a little common: Most with "Prediabetes" tend NOT to take it seriously.  I'm one of them.  Even as my family history shows the incredibly high risk of type II diabetes it still just doesn't mean anything to me right now.

My mom and oldest sister both died of complications that began with diabetes.  That puts me at risk, a much higher risk of developing type II diabetes than the average person who doesn't have a family history.  And yet---I somehow just... don't... care.

9 days ago my Endocrinologist, who diagnosed me, gave me a sample of medication I'm supposed to inject once a week.  A 'sample' because some don't tolerate the medicine well AT ALL.  On one hand that's a reason I've not started it yet, but on the other hand I don't want or need the horrific possible side effects and wonder if it's worth the risk.  It's the only thing I can take at the time because of other health issues.  But still...

I take my fasting blood sugar each morning and it's been fairly consistent, with this morning being 121 (elevated by about 10 points from a few days ago).  Fluctuation is all.  But it still doesn't register. I'm aware and I don't care.

At the moment, and probably not due to any blood sugar issue... I'm hurting all over.  Time to lay down.  Pain, pain, and more pain.  Honestly, my intentions were to talk nutrition and plant-based diets vs other diets.  I'm just too weak and uncomfortable.  Maybe tomorrow....

Till later.....

Chronic Epic Failures.

As I reach for health and healing, returning to MY life, it's not without obstacles.  If you've been reading here for a while, and reading my other blogs, this has become glaringly apparent.  So why am I STILL struggling with this?  Why is it I'm still stuck in limbo and unable to help myself?  And WHY are the obstacles STILL here?  I have to say... there's no easy way to answer those questions.

Ever hear of situations where someone is trying to lose weight, or start an exercise program (or both) and they're met with resistance from someone very close to them or.. someone living with them?  Yeah.  Well.  That's where I am and where I've been.  And now that prednisone has put weight on me I have to struggle to take care of that, because dieting doesn't quite cut it.  There's a lot of different physical mechanisms in place that thwart that.  Not that you can't lose, but it takes a lot more diligence.

I've spoken to T so many times now about not bringing home junk food and garbage food.  The junk is easy to avoid, but T's favorite thing in the world is frozen food.  Ugh.  Nasty stuff.  Okay on occasion, but for me.. it's wrecking my health beyond reason.  Too much sodium and sugar, too many processed carbs, not nearly enough veggies.  Why even bother buying that crap?

Each weekend T insists on buying the groceries.  In my current state I can't really go anywhere anyway, so I'm at his mercy.  How is it he can easily forget the stern warnings from my doctors about eating as clean as possible... is beyond me.  And not a single discussion, and there've been MANY, seems to get it through his thick skull.  smh.

So he chooses 'easy and cheap' despite the warnings, the risks, and the damage to my already compromised health.

I was told yesterday that my triglycerides are up AGAIN, and now my ferritin is elevated above normal.  NEITHER of those things are good!  *sigh*  WTH am I supposed to do?

I'm still searching for answers to this because, honestly, this is a very dangerous road to be on for me.

Dammit.

"You've chosen lessons of pain"

I received a message with this video in it yesterday.  I have no idea who the person is who sent it... but, oddly.. this is one of my favorite songs and one I listen to every night.  Headphones on, dark room, and songs to obliterate the thoughts....

Life. Food. Oxygen. Determination. And good old fashioned letting go.

There's been a few times in my life where I had to make some really difficult decisions.  In those times it was absolutely necessary for my health and well-being to take those uncertain steps, but because I did I ended up on the right side of life... MY life.  No longer at odds with that which seeks to crush what and who I am I was free to live life the way I was meant to---my way.  It didn't mean I ended up rich or famous, it simply meant the burden of other people telling me who and how to be was no longer an anchor on this particular ship.  And it was a most beautiful thing to experience.

Sadly I find myself in that unfortunate circumstance again.  But at least, this time, I recognize the beast for what it is.  The next steps are fully mine to choose and implement.

Having been on prednisone I have to deal with the S*L*O*W process of healing my adrenal glands and waiting out the unpleasant effects.  This means being patient with myself about the weight it put on me.  All the dieting in the world can't thwart the effects of corticosteroids but at least I'm on my way and focused on what needs to be done.  I know where I am where where I need to be.  Unfortunately, T is on the opposite side of that fence lining the road to my goal, choosing to stand on the outside and basically attempting, in a passive-aggressive manner to trip me along the way.  WTH, right?

I've always been in my best health when eating clean, and that means food as close to nature as absolutely possible.  And, it's also one of the cheaper ways to eat if you're careful.  At this time it's really not about the cost of eating healthy but being forced to battle against someone who puts convenience over health.  Honestly, it's a source of utter contention when those confrontations arise, and oh but they do arise.

Fighting for my life:

In my current circumstances I find myself at the mercy of someone who literally doesn't care that eating poor quality, unhealthy food is positively dangerous for me.  Without going through the list of 'ills' again let's just say that eating pre-packaged, frozen, processed garbage (and it is garbage) is only going to deteriorate my health more rapidly than any disease process alone.  And I have to ask myself at this point---"What am I willing to surrender?"  The answer is always the same--I'm not willing to surrender ANYTHING when it comes to my health and quality of life.

Although there IS a huge part of me who's given up recently, and mostly because chronic pain, fatigue, weakness, nausea, etc., etc. has simply worn me down to the bone.  My will and determination ebbs and flows from day to day so erratically that I can't stay the course, so to speak.  Every day I find a little determination and motivation, and every day I give up.

I FEEL my body's struggle within.

My attempts to explain and convey this to T falls always on deaf ears, and this many times is where I give up and let go.  At that point what little energy and hope and determination I have recedes completely leaving me so exhausted that I have to sleep.  Many times, though not always, a short nap can restore me.  I guess just allowing my mind to cease battling against T's refusal to understand how critical clean eating and living is... well, I guess it's the only restoration method I have.

I understand full well what I'm facing here.  Even in the physical condition I'm in.. if I don't eat right, clean, healthy... I'm simply spinning my wheels.  The stress in and of itself creates and exacerbates the existing problems which also doesn't help.

What do I do when I can't drive right now (because of my arm.. possible torn rotator cuff) and can't go shopping for myself, when giving a list to T when he goes to the grocery store only means he returns with over-processed food and junk (desserts, etc).  What do I do?  These foods also don't sit well with my gastrointestinal processes (to put it nicely) and almost always makes me sick to my stomach.  I'm severely lactose intolerant, but these pre-packaged foods often have sauces in them that contain milk and cream.. NOT good at all.

I know what I need & what I must do to help myself heal.  I'm not claiming it's going to be a miracle cure or anything of the like but it IS necessary given the serious health issues I'm dealing with.

I'm alive.  I need to eat clean, healthy.  I need to exercise, to 'breathe.'  I'm determined.  But T isn't.

So at what point do I let go completely and insist on saving myself?  Why on earth is my life even up for debate?

I'm risking much by making the choice to stop taking medications, but it's critical right now as the side effects I believe are taking me out at the knees.  I have 3 more to come off of and.. I WILL.  But that's not enough.  Even I know that much.  I have to do so much more, including eating healthy and exercising even if I feel I can't.  Overall it's quality of life, not quantity.  Either way, destroying my health further from the inside out is about as foolish as it gets.

So tell me---how does one talk to someone who's deaf to reason these days?

Rhetorical question.

Chicken, fish, salad, cooked veggies, fruit, yogurt, and minute amounts of non-white/processed whole grains.  Seriously.  Is that really too much to ask???

When I'm without my voice, music...

When I'm without my voice, music...

Home.

One thing I've known for certain for pretty much all of my life is that when I'm ill, I long for home.  When I was little I knew where that place was, and despite its terrible flaws it was still home.  As an adult I was surprised to find that I no longer knew exactly where home was.  So I would spend the majority of my adult life longing for a place that quite possibly, for me anyway, doesn't exist.  I've never been able to reconcile this; not physically, and certainly not emotionally.

The closest I've come to being "Home" once moving out of my mom's house at 18 is Mobile, AL.  I had a tiny little apartment, and though not every moment there was perfect, it felt safe, and it felt like a warn welcome every time I walked through the door--no matter how good or bad things were.  It was a safe place for me to be myself, where I could decompress, where I could dream, wish, hope and feel alive.  This is not the case where I am now.  Not even close.

How did I get here?  I got here the same way I got into every bad situation in my life; By pure blind trust.  It's a flaw of mine and one that's gotten me into more trouble than I can tell you.  I give people the benefit of the doubt, take them on their word, and actually believe what they say.  Well, to a point anyway.  The thing is, that 'point' in which I pivot and see the error of my ways is usually far too late to avoid any damage to my life, and to me.

I'll probably always be this way, a far too trusting person.  I'm okay with that, I guess.  But I really wish I were better at assessing and discerning the heart and motives of people BEFORE I get involved.  We all have our flaws, I suppose.

As I wait for the sluggish process of diagnosis beyond the AIH, I'm left far too vulnerable for my liking.  There are days I can't walk well, verging on not at all, and days where lifting my arms to look at my phone is almost too much.  The weakness grows more each day and the doctors I need to see are weeks out of reach since I'll be a new patient.  The waiting is going to end me in the ER at some point, I'm afraid.  But the worst of this is being this sick and living in a place where I know absolutely no one at all.

T only helps around here bare minimum, and as the chores, etc. pile up... I long for the simplicity of the life I had in Mobile, where I didn't have to clean up after another human who refuses to do what's necessary to not live in a dirty, cluttered house.  I can't live this way, so I struggle to pick up the slack.  And I'll tell you, the slack is far far more than what T actually does.

How the hell did he survive on his own?

I have to somehow find my way home--wherever that is.  I know I can keep struggling a little bit to find my way here, to at least hang in there until I'm better---or at least better enough to survive, to move, to do something to help myself.  At this rate I don't know if I can work, which scares that crap out of me.  Disability requires a definite diagnosis, and at this time I don't have one that explains fully how I'm continuing to weaken and become more and more sick.  What can I do if even typing an entry like this makes me shaky and nauseated with weakness?

I want to be well again, to feel good again, to have energy again.  I want to be in a position where I can find my way back home again.

Home.  I just want to be... home.

Spent and at a loss for words.

Sounds like a clear sign I shouldn't be posting, doesn't it?  Yeah.  Probably.  But I'm here just the same.  I'm about 5 minutes into taking to my bed, putting on the earphones and trying like hell to disappear.  I never know how this will go, to be truthful.  Sometimes I fall asleep.  Sometimes the music makes me feel better.  Sometimes anxiety comes into the picture.  But physically I have no other option.  When my body gives out, it just gives out.

There's more to what's going on that AIH.  Pulmonary involvement and other signs and symptoms also point to Myositis or Sarcoidosis.  I've no idea what the answer to it all will be.  I just hope like hell those answers come soon.

I'm not going to make any sense at this point because I'm too flipping tired.

The Similarities of Day to Day Life.

Or shall we call it "A life of perpetual sameness"?  Either way, I'm going to make damn sure I change this.  I have to.

I've posted enough here for you guys to know where I am at the moment.  Dealing with communication and respect issues from T, issues that make themselves known every day and every night without fail.  You also know by now that my tolerance for this is extremely thin, verging on non-existent.  Notwithstanding innocent goof and human blunders, somewhere in the chaos one has to actually SEE the damage being done.  "I" see the damage because I'm a recipient of most of it, but T sits quietly on the river "Denial" and refuses to move.  Ok.  Whatever.

He doesn't like my bluntness and doesn't want me to say aloud the truth that threatens not only to completely destroy this relationship, but the truth that's destroying my peace of mind, health, and happiness.  He's in blissful ignorance, so I don't have any choice other than to say exactly what's on my mind.

When I'm trying to open a discussion, when I need to point out behaviors in someone that TRULY need addressing, I use non-combative phrases.  I speak of how I feel, what the harmful behavior is, but I don't point fingers, name-call, label, etc., because that approach causes damage as well.  I know how to communicate, as long as people allow me to communicate.

Repeatedly disrespecting me is a huge deal and would be for pretty much anyone.  Not allowing anyone to disrespect me was a lesson only recently learned, so I'm still a little awkward with it and finding my balance and strength when approaching the subject.  I'm getting there.  Now, in the process I've become fairly blunt when I've taken all I can, and all PC is out the window.  I speak my mind now while doing my best to preserve the other person's (in this case T) self-esteem.  I've no interest in becoming what I most despise so won't allow myself to go there.

T believes that when I point out what he does that hurts, offends, and disrespects me.. that it's a form of disrespect and that I shouldn't say anything at all.  But I assure you, that approach NEVER works and is, in fact, quite harmful to relationships and the individuals.  If I shove down my feelings, ignore the disrespect, and take the punches in silence... I will eventually resent that person, and that person right now is T.  No matter how I try to explain this--he doesn't get it and shows no indication of trying to understand or stop the disrespectful behavior.

Again, as I've said many times before, I'm not trying to make T out as a bad guy or to demonize him. He's NOT a bad guy--he's just blind to the things he does and doesn't do that greatly and adversely affect me in so many ways.  I hang in there for the obvious reasons, and I do so because I hold hope very close, hope that he'll see what he's doing so it can be stopped.

I may be a bit foolish for relying on hope this way given my past experiences and hope-filled failures.  But there's no reason NOT to hope.  In fact, hope is the great buffer of all things, isn't it?  Life tends to slip apart when hope is lost.

Damage control: There's been a lot of this with most being unsuccessful.  And I'm no stranger to damage control given past relationships that left me holding the weight of fixing everything.  One person CANNOT fix a relationship, nor can one person break it.  If a relationship is going bad, guaranteed there are TWO people at fault, even if it's the behavior of one and the acceptance of that behavior by the other.  It takes two people to break a relationship and two to repair it; an absolute truth.

Sometimes there are victims, yes, but 'most' victims are willing.  Meaning, when you have a way out of a bad situation and don't get on board with preparing things, and if you stay and suffer the damaging consequences.. then you've willingly participated in that damage.

As for me, I was a willing victim.  I played the martyr in love more times than I like to admit.  My role in a past relationship which did a LOT of damage to my self-esteem, body, etc. I take full responsibility for.  I remained in a bad situation, and though I believed that he and I could fix things I refused to see and acknowledge (for far too long) that the weight of that burden was planted fully on me.  I should've left at the first sign of serious problems.

I should have bailed when the relationship began changing the way I saw myself, how I thought of myself, when it began to depress me and fill my entire world with anxiety.  I should have been my own best friend and stood up for ME.  Instead, I did everything I possibly could to change into the distorted version he wished me to become.  It doesn't take a genius to understand that my acceptance of abuses, be they emotional or physical, would nearly destroy me as a person; I get it NOW, but I didn't get it THEN, not until it was too late and the damage was done.

I had to forgive myself more than the other person, because it was ME who let myself down.  I didn't have my own back, and I allowed everything till nearly the end.  It wasn't until I had a TIA and ended up in the hospital (very shortly after the last blow up) did I realize to what degree I'd been beaten up inside and how it had shattered me.

In the hospital the doctors asked about my level of stress, had I been dealing with major life changes such as a death in the family, financial hardship, and/or a breakup.  That was the first time the lightbulb went on and I began to introspect as I lay in that hospital bed with nothing but the hum of the heater to interfere with what came to me.  The realization was harsh, brazen, and shattering in its truth.  I had to get out of the relationship; I had to let go; and I had to do it to save my life.

This wasn't a comfortable awareness when it came blazing out of the deep recesses in which unpleasant things go to smolder.  But there was nothing I could do, really, but allow it into the light and face what it was, what I'd always known but refused to acknowledge.

So the burning question for most people at this point, after hearing/reading about my experience, the question everyone I knew at the time had is: Why the hell did I stay so long?  I stayed because I was in love with him.  Isn't that why any of us stay in bad or toxic relationships, because of our feelings and our sometimes misguided hopes that he/she will change?

I wouldn't find out until much later, until it was far too late and the damage was taking over my life and destroying happiness, that the person I fell in love with didn't really exist.  If you've read my blogs for a while you've heard me say this, and that's because the realization that I fell in love with a lie is profound and one I struggle with today for obvious reasons: You can't say goodbye to someone who doesn't exist.

The mask slipped and I discovered the truth beneath.

To this day everything about me struggles to reconcile who I thought I loved with who I was actually dealing with.

I believe that this problem of irreconcilable truths, for me, is fanning the flames of what's happening in the current relationship.  While I knew this was a possibility there wasn't any reasonable way to prepare for the experience itself.  On one hand being protective is necessary, but on the other hand.. always being poised in defense isn't a good idea either.

This emotional struggle could end with closure; something I will never have.  I can't say goodbye to someone who never existed, now can I?

Yeah... and therein lies the biggest problem of all.  This fight, this struggle permeates day to day life.  T's disrespect, whether purposeful or accidental permeates day to day life.  Health problems worsen and take over day to day life.  There seems to be no end to this....

Finally.

I

t's not over yet.  The prednisone hell continues in SO many ways, but at least the expression of itself that comes via a voracious appetite is beginning to subside.  Finally.  Nothing is perfect, of course, and it does take some time to completely subside and return to normalcy, and I am holding on... holding on... and holding on.

I spent a bit more time in my other blogs, so I don't have much to spare here.  I just wanted to check in for those wanting more information on this whole prednisone tapering and withdrawal business.

....that's all I have.

I See What You Did There.

You're either part of the problem or part of the solution.  Anyone who's been in a relationship knows that if there's dysfunction there's damage.  In my case there's much damage to both my emotional state as well as my physical state.  It's not hard to understand the VAST difference between "Enabling" or "Supporting," and you have to pick a side eventually, right?  So when it comes to choosing which side you're on, use compassion, care, love when making such a choice, because you can easily break someone's will when you're pushing them in the wrong direction with every move or choice you make, with every word uttered, with every action.  At some point you have to ask yourself: "Who's side am I on?"

Let's hope your answer comes from a loving place, otherwise you've just embarked on a journey that could utterly destroy another human being from the inside-out.  Think I'm wrong?  Think again!  Here's how it happens....

Now, while I should be entering this in my blog "This Free Spirit," I'm beginning here.  Why?  Well, as some of you know I created this blog for talking about health and diet-related issues, and this particular entry deals with the emotional side of the success or ultimate failure of health goals when dealing with the lack of a support system and living with someone who is hell-bent on undermining my goals.  I guess I should copy this entry in the other blog as well, because it's incredibly important to know how closely related the issues of health and surroundings are.

Ever had one of 'those' friends who can't stand it when you do something to better yourself, your life, your health, your emotional wellbeing?  I think we all have had those people in our lives, right?  Sometimes it's a friend, other times it's an enemy, and there are times when, sadly, it's a loved one.  We give other people power over us, many times without realizing what we've done.  This is often the case with family, especially with a significant other such as a boyfriend, girlfriend, or spouse.  The damage inflicted by carelessness, indifference or overt sabotage is mind-blowing, and it's a serious undertaking to get oneself back on track when this happens, and especially if it continues to happen.

As you guys know by now.. I'm on Prednisone, which is KNOWN for massive edema (water weight gain), fat gain and redistribution.  Knowing what to omit or avoid in your diet while on prednisone is key to minimizing it's bad side effects.  Let's visit this for a moment, shall we?  And trust me, I'm going somewhere with this.

What to avoid, limit or omit while taking long-term, high dosages of Prednisone:

Salt.
Sugar.
Junk food.
Refined carbs.
Processed foods.
Fast food.

The list of what to avoid is pretty straight-up and not at all hard to understand when common sense is applied.  So if you're living with someone with dietary restrictions, and dietary restrictions are always due to a matter of great importance.  In my case there are several reasons ranging from avoiding the damaging effects of prednisone to having a heart condition and now high BP.

I've talked to T on many occasions in reference to what I have to do and not do to protect my health, and those talks have been over the better part of TWO YEARS now.  So this is not a new topic by any stretch of the imagination.  And yet he continues to do the things that he shouldn't do, and that is to bring home ALL of the items on the "Avoid" list, and he does so on a regular basis, citing he 'Forgot' or takes the stance that he just somehow just doesn't get this.  He has a 150 IQ, so how is it he  doesn't know or forgets?

Junk food, and TONS of it.  Processed food that now fills the shelves of the pantry.  If he cooks something (and these days he does most of it because I can't stand but for a few seconds, literally) he drowns the food in salt, mayo, or anything and everything that really isn't even remotely required.  And most of the time the food is pre-packaged crap that has little to no nutritional value.  He will literally forego cooking any vegetables, even the frozen kind you can pop in the microwave.  See, this is the part where being "Dangerously dependent" on another human being means risking your life and health.

One of the most horrid places to be in life is at the mercy of another.  It requires a great deal of trust to be at the mercy of someone, and when that someone does everything possible to undermine your health, your goals for better health, it becomes a dangerous, dangerous game.  I want nothing more than to have enough of my health and energy back where I'm SOLELY responsible for preparing my own meals.  The level of stress and anxiety that comes with being at T's mercy is through the roof, thus risking my health even more.  I have no idea what to do about this.

The shelves of the pantry, the inside of the fridge and freezer have mostly junk, processed crap that offers very little nutrition and a LOT of calories.

I talk and talk, I beg and plead, I send him links to read about the effects of eating that stuff to him... links he really just ignores as much as he ignores my text messages.  Who IS this guy??

Why do I bother talking to him?  Why do I bother sharing anything with him?  Why do I bother texting him, sending him emails, etc. when they go completely unnoticed?  He will read for an hour links and such people leave on his FB page, but he has NO clue what's going on with me unless I spoon-feed it to him.  I've grown weary of spoon-feeding him information and holding his hand to walk him through every...single...step of learning anything at all about what I'm dealing with.

Does he know anything about autoimmune hepatitis?  Not really.  What he knows is what I've told him, and I can't hold a seminar for him.  If he's not going to take the time or invest anything into learning, then why should I bother?  I've mostly gotten to a point where I don't--bother that is.

So what's really going on with T?  Well, given his habit of indifference.. there's really no telling if he's just being careless, or hell-bent on sabotage.  I don't believe it's the latter, but the former isn't any prettier nor particularly helpful.

It's time I sign off, complete a couple of other entries in my other blogs and wait for the Lasix to kick-in.  This means camping out in my room so I can be near a bathroom.  Lasix, btw, is a powerful prescription diuretic, so this is going to be fun.  NOT.

Wish me luck....

The Death of a Diet.

Completely convinced that I'm turning into a human sponge, today marks the first of my accepting the fact that any hopes of dieting off this prednisone weight gain and swelling is just not going to happen until I'm off the stuff.  It's become majorly apparent that I'm sensitive to it (as I am to all medications) and that I'm going to be living in the throes of prednisone hell for some time to come.  But can I handle it?

I have a new appointment to see my liver specialist tomorrow.  I had to make a call to the after hours line due to some pretty serious swelling in my face that has gotten too close to my eyes.  Not sure what it is, but I know it's alarming and NOT in the least comfortable.  Could be from being ON prednisone, could be from coming off prednisone (possibly coming off too fast), or it could be from another medication or from a new problem that's rearing its ugly head.  I've NO idea as the variables involved are came on board about the same time.

How does this affect dieting, weight loss, etc?  Well the answer is right there in my statement; prednisone.  It's a monster that's going to win every fight, as it's actually designed to do.

What the above means is basically I have to practice acceptance and patience and allow myself to not stress about what's happening, because the reality is: it's a battle that can only be won by surrendering.

If it's not one thing....

....It's another.  Such is life, right?  Enter, Prednison---and gone are the days when 'dieting' takes off the pounds and inches.  Now aint that some sh*t?  Most people have to diet while on Prednisone just to maintain weight or slow the gains.  And there is absolutely NOTHING you can do about the chubby face, etc.  Once Pred is stopped and the body resumes normal function of cortisol.. things will go back to normal.  In the meantime, I feel like freaking Violet!  Ugh!

The pic on the left is how I USUALLY look, but I can hardly recognize myself at the moment due to the chipmunk cheeks and overall massive bloating.  *sigh* I honestly feel like Violet... *sigh*

Will I get back to that same level of health?  I wish I knew.  The Prednisone bloat/weight will go away once I'm off the Pred, and I'm hoping everything will be back where it was prior.  Thing is, that photo of me was taken even while I was unknowingly in the throes of the AIH.  It's all in the eyes, too... I look tired.  But oh boy, right now my eyes are ridiculously swollen (like the rest of me), and my eyes are sunken with very dark circles.  For all practical purposes---I look like a sick person.

Will I ever look or feel well?  This is the burning question I have day to day, and as much as I set out to overcome the 24/7 hunger, eat ONLY the right things, I end up giving in at some point in the day.  It's relentless, but I can tell it's already getting better now that I'm down to 15mg/day of the Pred.

As I'm tapering, I'm wondering about how drastically my diet is going to change given the circumstances OUTSIDE the Autoimmune Hepatitis.  Low salt, low to no sugar, low fat, and possibly having to give up all the things that irritate the stomach and intestines, such as wheat, dairy (including eggs), and significantly reducing the amount of fruit I eat.  I've not been eating much fruit at all, though, which I do wonder about.  I love fruit but have lost my taste for it, and many other things, over the past several months.  Part of this, I think, is due to the medications altering my sense of taste, but I also believe that there's more to it as well.  Either way, I wonder what I'll be left with to eat once problematic foods are eliminated?

Low protein, low salt, low to no sugar, avoid processed foods when possible.  I just don't know, but it's not going to be easy to do this.

Leaning on the idea that exercise is supposed to be good for me, KNOWING this is the case for people, all the questions regarding the possibility of Myositis being one of the problems are still there and unanswered.  I've yet to get on that exercise bike because I know that if it is myositis and it's in an active stage, exercising is a bad idea because muscle wasting/damage occurs when the disease is active.  You just can't 'damage' muscles if they're already be damaged, because they won't repair.  Exercise creates muscle damage, and it's within the process of repair that they're made stronger.  This isn't the case with Myositis.  Neato, huh?  Yeah, not so much.

I'm tired of the IF situations.  Oh you've NO idea.  And feeling how weak my legs and arms are even ON Prednisone sets off the warning alarms inside, cautioning me to hold back until I have the go ahead from my doctor.  Looks like I'm going to have to see another rheumatologist as this is their territory.  I won't go back to "Dr. Mumbles."  Honestly, Dr. Mumbles really should retire.  When you disconnect from your patients and spend less than 5 minutes talking to them, when it's obvious you're pretty much going through the motions to the point where you miss significant findings.. it's time to retire.  It's just time to retire.

Well, it's that time of day again... when my energy begins to crash and my limbs become impossibly weak and tired.

I'm out of here.. for now.

The Invisibility of Being.

Throughout my life I've been pretty thin-skinned, listening to others tell me what I should/shouldn't be, what and how I should think, do, say, dream... developed into an art form for me that damn near reached "Spidey Power" status.  No, seriously.  I would take and wear whatever anyone projected upon me like a shiny pair of Jimmy Choo's.  And trust me when I say that two-sizes too small absolutely made a difference in how I felt and carried myself through life.

Barefoot is better.  Know what happens when you go barefoot the majority of the time?  The soles of your feet get pretty damn tough.  Having grown up poor I had only one pair of shoes (cheap) at a time and wasn't really allowed to wear them outside if I were just playing in the yard, etc.  They had to last until my mom decided we could afford more.  I think I had the toughest feet of anyone I've ever known because of this.  The only thing that really hurt me was if I stepped on glass (which I did a few times, once landing me in the ER to have the glass removed), and when that California asphalt and concrete got hot enough to fry an egg on.  Even so, over time walking barefoot didn't bother me one single bit.

But what about the INSIDE?  Oh, but that was a whole different story altogether.  I couldn't walk my way through through the pain to being 'thick-skinned' and pretty much felt the weight of anything and everything that was said to me.  Criticism became truth, a 'reality' handed to me that I willingly took.  My childhood experiences weren't filled with encouragement or praise nor even helpful criticism.  Indifference and criticism, and many times complete withdrawal of love and affection were the tools used to shape the person I would become.

I was to become the child who survived.

In adulthood, that small child I once was is alive, and though not well, that part of me is AWARE.  There is still a disconnection of who 'that little girl' was and who I am now, and I still see photos of when I was little and feel such pity for 'that little girl.'  Yes, I know it's me, of course.  But the disconnection is still there just the same.  I want SO much to apologize to her and say "I'm sorry I didn't protect you!"

I've accepted this disconnection as a part of who I am, but I don't like it one single bit.  C'est la vie.

I remain thin-skinned, but my reaction to criticism, disrespect, and so forth is very different now.  I've allowed history to repeat itself in relationships I've had, and the reality of this has unprecedented tenure, so it would seem.  It will be with me the rest of my life.  Okay.  I'll just have to work around that when possible, right?

So here I am all grown up and stuff.  I can make decisions, change my mind, and walk away from anyone or anything that threatens my happiness; such are the benefits of being an adult.  Right?  Well, not exactly.  At least not for me.  That subconscious, that inner child, the child I actually WAS at one time so long ago, well.. she has a mind of her own and remembers the pain, the isolation, the indifference, the coldness, the invisibility of being... well, me.

Such memories carry over for the long-haul and map the course of life in often undesirable ways.  But it doesn't always have to be like that.  I can do more to help myself in that respect.  And I do.

On bad days, of which I have far too many these days, that inner child is the one who suffers most.  Sure, I feel the physical pain, and I feel the isolation of my situation and all it invokes (depression, anxiety, etc).  But it's what happens INSIDE that changes my world, my life.  All I can do is anesthetize myself with too much coffee, reading, and way too much television.  My physical body simply refuses to allow much more these days.  That's okay, because eventually the AIH and the 'possible' Myositis, both autoimmune, is driving the bus now, and not even my inner child can rebel against that and affect change.

Sitting here in the quiet, drinking coffee, talking about things I've not talked with a single other human being about...well, but for one therapist for a very short time, I can definitely say I recognize my life as it was, and as it still is; The invisibility of being... me.

Cross-Post Rant Ahead.. "I'm DONE"

Trust me when I say... it's taken me from approximately 7:20am to 10:37am JUST to calm down enough to write.  Waking to indifference each day is grating on my nerves and sucking the life out of my life.  I'm not in the greatest of moods at the moment, and I'm not about to pretend I am.  It's been one HELL of a morning... let's just start there, shall we?

Okay, so all of my life I've believed that the old saying "Anything worth doing is worth doing RIGHT" is a damn good foundation for anyone's life.  Half-Assing ANYTHING reveals a lot about a person.  And by 'half-assing" I mean not putting everything you have into what you're doing.  Not to say your "everything" may not be on the same level every day, but putting in 100% of what you can is all anyone can really ask.  And why not?  Why would anyone do anything less than 100%?  When you take shortcuts you leave someone else to make up the difference in distance you weren't willing to go.

NOTE:  As always, unless I'm writing something aimed at someone in particular... the word "You" is used loosely and not meant to point fingers at anyone here.

My health is bad--I've spoken of this a lot in my blogs.  Dealing with one confirmed AI disease (AIH) and going through the paces of confirming a second means.. I'm NOT in remission.  I won't BE in remission for a very long time (I'm told).  The blood work COULD very well improve, the numbers will improve and possibly quickly, but 'remission' is more than numbers.  I won't go into all of that, but suffice it to say every single day is a battle to get through.  So here I am living with someone who, by nature, does ONLY what he can get away with and not a scintilla more.  What does this mean?  It means I have to take up the slack.  I not only have to do what I need and have to do, but I have to take up the slack from what he only does PART-WAY.

Half-Assers are a HUGE pet peeve of mine!

Look, I realize there will be days, times, and situations where you may have to take a short cut or do what you can in that moment.  But I also know that there are things that HAVE to be done correctly, thoroughly.  I mean, you can only short-cut your way through things until you end up with a completely and totally chaotic mess that SOMEONE ELSE will ultimately have to deal with.  Why the hell would you do this to someone, especially someone you claim to "love"?

This morning, like so many mornings (every morning!) I found myself forcing my way through cleaning up after T.  And I mean, cleaning up as in it takes me some 45-hour JUST to pick up the slack of his half-assed whatever.  Have I spoken to him about this?  Of course I have, and 2 years ago, when it really began, I was very calm, loving, and discussed the matter with him in hopes he would see what he was doing.  I mean, he's a grown up, and I'm not his mom.  He can pick up after himself, because he's no Ward Cleaver and doesn't treat me like Joan.  The family of the 1950's and 1960's are GONE.  Marriage and relationships aren't centered around women being in servitude.

Now, women who are treated with respect, treated kindly, appreciated.. will do almost anything for their guys.  It's how we're wired.  We're wired to be caretakers, caregivers, at least most of us.  However, when taken advantage of we often will begin to back off from all those things we once did easily, eagerly, and happily.  When taken for granted... we don't see any reason to continue giving when there's only taking from the other side.

And please, don't confuse this 'give and take' with material things or money, etc.  Because those things don't bring happiness, not ever.  What I'm talking about here is doing one's part in the relationship without placing the blinders on and thinking it's really just all about the other person doing all the work.

I've been in a relationship where everything was dumped solely on my shoulders.  People who know me, who pay attention, find out quickly that I can't be bought.  You can't buy your way out of unhappiness.  You just can't.  Being poor and happy is FAR FAR superior than being well-off and miserable.  Money can't get rid of unhappiness.. I really can't stress that enough.

Doing your part, that's what it's about.  Not placing necessary pressure or expectations on the other person is what it's about.  Respecting the other person's time is what it's about.  And soooooo much more, or course.  But when it comes to half-assing your way through chores because you know the other person will take up the slack for you... that's a sure-fire way to turn that person off, long-term.  And good damn luck getting them to be turned on again.

Being taken advantage of is not good foreplay.
Being taken for granted is not good foreplay.
Doing and not doing things that make the other person's life more difficult.. is not good foreplay.
Being overtly, blatantly lazy isn't sexy.
Indifference isn't sexy.
Ignoring someone isn't sexy.
Not respecting the other person's space, time, and needs isn't sexy, nor is it good foreplay.
Being mean, hateful, abusive.. isn't sexy, and it makes for LOUSY foreplay.

You treat me like shit, I'm going to shut down.
You abuse me, mentally, verbally, or physically.. and I'm going to shut down and NOT be into you.
Take me for granted and I'll stop doing things for you.

It's taken me years to get to this point, and I've been a welcome mat for a couple of people and won't ever allow myself to do that again.  I don't need anyone THAT much.  If I'm treated badly, eventually I won't feel anything at all for you, and you're going to find out that you really just can't un-ring that bell.

You can't buy me or my love.  I'm not for sale.  If you do something you claim is out of kindness or whatever, and you use it against me later.. you've given your true motive away!  Once I SEE you, what and who you REALLY are, I won't be able to see that 'other' person ever again.  Once you blow it, you blow it.

T is lucky in that there's still about 2% hope here.  This morning was just about the final straw, but I fought and worked my way past it, and I'm telling you it was DIFFICULT!  He knew, too.  He knew the moment I pointed out to him what he'd done.  He tried to backpedal, tried to reassure himself that he'd not blown it VIA me.  But what was done was done, and the disingenuous nature of what he did wasn't lost on me at all, and it broke something inside and change, again, the way I see him and feel about him.  Being disingenuous is exactly like lying, and I'm DONE being okay with men who lie to me, either by omission or right-out.  DONE.

That 2% of me that is still open to his finding a solution and fixing the whole disingenuous thing is stretched very thin.  He's running out of time.

Honesty and respect are MORE important than love.  My last relationship taught me that, opened my eyes to the fact that without those first two things.. LOVE CAN'T EXIST!  Love CANNOT exist in the absence of honesty and respect.

Besides struggling through a VERY PAINFUL morning trying to finish half-assed attempts at whatever, I also had to deal with the tuning me out thing, the thing where he pretends to vaguely respond because he knows he didn't hear a thing I just said.  No matter... I don't repeat myself anymore.  I do let him know, however, that I get that he didn't hear me and that all the begging in the world to repeat myself isn't going to make me do so.  After a year or more of this not listening/tuning me out thing.. I've grown intolerant to it.  I've told him that, fine, if he's that disinterested in what I have to say then I'll simply 'tell someone who gives a shit.'  He doesn't like it, but it's no longer about what HE likes and doesn't like anymore.  I've taken the first step in getting MY life back, replacing the disrespect he shows towards me with my own SELF-RESPECT; something I really should've done a long, long time ago.  Better late than never, I say.

So this morning was NOT a good morning.  But I'm going to spend the remainder of my day taking care of myself, focusing on what I can do to help myself heal, and incorporating those things that will protect me from further harm from anyone, especially from the person I'm living with.  Yes, I still have to work through the damage from the past relationship, but that's already underway and will help with my current situation.

Well, that's where I am today.  It will get better, and I will keep persevering... as long as I can.