Daily Archives: April 6, 2017

The Confrontation Complication

I try not to do flood posting but…Life happens.

No sooner than my last post about the neighbor’s hell hound…My kid was walking down to her friend’s, on the opposite of the road, and the dog went after her, straining its chain to get near her. She started wailing, terrified, rightfully so and I was PISSED…I went next door, running on ‘protect my young’ instinct and the guy was outdoors with the dog and I told him he’d better get his dog under control cos it just went after my kid. I further informed him about yesterday’s chain/bicycle event and said he needed to get his dog under control.

This was followed by him taking the dog inside and the woman there started to scream, and I couldn’t make much out, but I have little doubt the psycho was carrying on about me complaining and telling the dog to shut up, my cats, blah blah. These people truly are examples of why the term ‘trailer trash’ applies. They scream for the dog to shut up as much as me and my kid do because it never shuts up when it is tied out. Hypocrites.

I followed this up with a call to the landlord, not that he can do anything, but I wanted it on record what is going on with these people. I was told to call the pound but that dog has gone to the pound at least once this year and they went and ‘bailed’ it out. So what good does that do. Not to mention, unless it’s loose, it’s just a noisy dog in their yard and no one will do fuck all about that.

Now for all my “fuck you” mentality (and yes, it is sincere, not affectation)…I do NOT do confrontation. It sets off the anxiety disorder, which leads to an anxiety attack followed by sheer panic and paranoia.

So while earlier I was feeling semi solid, even had plans to go mow a patch of weeds in front of the place…Then the dog incident and now I am so shaken, I don’t want to set foot outside the place. I also rounded up my cats lest that psych meth head next door decide to poison them or let the dog loose on them. I am worried my tires will be slashed. Or she will make some false report to children’s wellfare. Let’s face it. People are petty and vindictive, a lesson hard learned but well ingrained.

I logically know this is the disorder talking. Logic has nothing to do with the way I am feeling in spite of a Xanax. I am woozy, weak, my brain can’t stop spinning. Even telling me I should have left well enough alone because I have to live next to these idgets.

I have to keep telling myself, I’ve let the months of endless barking go, I said nothing when the fucking dog was loose…But going after my kid…ANY PARENT WOULD BE AND SHOULD BE PISSED, CONCERNED, AND CONfRONTATIONAL.

Of course, not everyone lives next door to a scary screaming meth head who was just in jail a couple of months back. I fear this woman. Because ya know, were she a logical, decent human being…

Hearing that your dog just tried to attack a child would make you apologize and handle your dog more responsibly, rather than making a concerned mother look unreasonable for being concerned and voicing that concern.

So now I can’t write my story because I am still in the aftermath of terrible panic and paranoia and I know I did the right thing but anxiety disorder gives zero fucks.

This is why I am on disability. Between the bipolar months long depressions and anxiety attacks so bad they impact my physical health…

I am a strong person, and kinda bad ass but when it comes to confrontation and panic…I can’t seem to conquer my disorders and it makes me feel weak and pathetic. Anyone else experience this with confrontational situations?

It sucks beyond words.

Weathering The Depressive Ether

The most common (ignorant) misconception about mental illness is that we get to choose how we feel. Nope. We may have the choice of how to cope with how we are feeling but even that is hindered by the very chemicals that cause us to be imbalanced. So it really angers me when otherwise kind, intelligent people have this misconception. One does NOT choose to feel depressed and if you are too ignorant to get that through your head…Bite me.

I’m not even sure where that came from. Maybe because even the damned counselors that are supposed to understand and help us believe it.

The last couple of weeks I have NOT had a choice in how I am feeling. My mental state is so tied into the weather, I’ve been locked in the depressive ether for ten days straight. Minimal functionality, no hope in sight. I trudge forward because for whatever reason my body refuses to die and let me escape my own fucked up brain…It’s grueling, though, day after day, not being able to break free of depression’s grasp. No matter how much I bully myself…It is what it is. And the meds keep me from going manic or postal but they do not combat the weather that my mental well being is so dependent upon.

This week I got hit with menstrual dysphoria in addition to 3 days of gloom and rain and cold. I keep thinking,it’s April, maybe soon I can turn off the heat, save on the heating bill…Nope. Mother Nature tells me to fuck off. Yesterday was the worst day so far and I knew it would be when I looked at the weather forecast the night before. Dark, cold, pouring…I even warned my kid she might need to poke me with a stick to  get up and fix her hair for picture day.

I was not wrong. I accomplished nothing, though I did write over twenty pages. But I just felt drained and dismal and nothing was making that cloud go away. I even groaned when R showed up because my stupid SAFELINK phone hasn’t been delivering my texts til hours after they were sent so I was caught unaware and I don’t like feeling ambushed with company when I don’t want it.

(I got his message at 11 a.m. this morning, along with 6 others my sister sent TUESDAY NIGHT, WHAT THE FUCK SAFELINK????)

Today started out dismally even though the rain had let up and the sun was peeking out at intervals. I got my kid to school, came home, and didn’t even have a smoke. I went right back under the covers, for my oompa loompa ovary squeezers were all Marquis de Sade. Pain does not make me want to be awake. So I dozed till 11 a.m. knowing R wanted to have lunch and have me watch the shop while he ran errands. (Groan.) But I am gonna need the goodwill for the muffler installation and so I went…

Fortunately, I did not have to stay for M and D showed up. Yay. I went to the store for cat supplies and came home. Got a little housework done. (I hate vacuuming, and oh, yeah, I hate housework, too.) THEN I got  a call from the fucking CENSUS BUREAU.  Oh, I didn’t mind so much when dealing with the people without accents whom I could clearly understand. Today I got saddled with some lady who had such a thick accent (and my phone’s sound quality is shit) so I couldn’t understand half of what she said. All the while thinking, this bitch is wasting my talk time, ffs, which will cost me money if I have to buy more minutes. Twenty fucking minutes and I finally said, is this gonna be over soon? And she said, just ten more minutes.

I went menstrual and yelled at her for wasting my minutes and hung up on her.

Such a pain in the ass and I’m sorry, I know she was just doing her job, but when I agreed to participate 4 years ago, I was told it was only for one year, then they wouldn’t call anymore. LIES!

Kinda like a couple weeks back I got completely bullied by CLEARVIEW ENERGY and their door to door salespeople who obviously get kickbacks for convincing people to switch for every time they come around, they have to point out 14 OF YOUR NEIGHBORS JUST SWITCHED OVER, DO YOU WANT TO BE LEFT OUT ON THE SAVINGS? I switched only because they promised me local supply so no out of state taxes but Clearview lies consistently enough I have a feeling I will switch back to my old supplier after one bill. Then Clearview, whose own people say state law prohibits them from suing me for early contract termination, will sue me for early contract termination. I just hang up on those assholes, too.

(Why does my post look funny? Touchpad moved on something and now it’s all weird, fuck.)

Yesterday when I picked my kid up from school, my normal route was under road maintenance so we were diverted right back to the parking lot of traffic while parents and their cars blocked the road to fetch their kids without getting their lazy asses out of the car. Is it really worth a ten minute road block to avoid a few steps??? I park away and walk across the street to get my kid to avoid that mess and ended up right in it. And I was in panic mode, swearing up a storm, impatiently needing out of there and unable to think clearly no matter how much I waved the rah rah mental pompoms telling myself “you got this.”

So shitty fucking week. Couple in a row, yayness.

One moderately entertaining thing, tho a little scary too, was the neighbor’s irritating satan dog got loose, pulled up the yard stake and was running loose with stake and chain in tow…then he came in my yard and got caught up in my kid’s bicycle and was dragging it up and down the road. I finally went out and tried to detangle the bike, all the while this dog is growling at me. FFS, I hate those neighbors and I dislike that dog. If your dog is strong enough to break free and haul a bike around by his chain…Maybe it shouldn’t be near a neighborhood filled with children.

Trailer park people and their need for vicious growling Pit Bulls and Rotweillers baffles me. Okay, you’re a badass, whatever. Feed your dog you moron, no one gives a fuck if it’s so hungry it can kick another dog’s ass.

Yep. I am grouchy. And I am out.

Diagnostic Mammography – A Bit Bigger Squeeze

Last week I dedicated a post to my screening mammogram. I felt it important to get the message out there that this is something women over 40 should do – for themselves and for their loved ones. What I didn’t … Continue reading

Field Trip Day One

So today we stayed on the bus most of it.   We had to skip DeSoto Caverns in Alabama because of  tornado warnings in Alabama,  So we went to a Dave and Busters in Atlanta when we got there.  That was a chore and a half getting everyone out because the ticket redemption process as really a mess.  So we have CNN, Coke Museum, and the rest of the Centennial Park complex tomorrow.

I’ve managed without popping Xanax or going ballistic on anyone so far so that is a plus,  But I left my cell phone at home so I can’t talk to Bob any on the trip.  We’ll see how that goes.

WE’re about to go to bed and see how we sleep. Hope everyone else on the floor does the same.  See you all tomorrow,


My Body Talks Too Loud

This afternoon I had to get out and see someplace that wasn’t the inside of the van I live in.

It’s been in the 40’s and 50’s here in Northern Arizona.  Very beautiful, too, when not spitting “wintry mix.”  Still not terribly comfortable for those of us with loud bodies.

To be truthful, I’m sick and tired of this body.  I’m grateful for what it’s done for me, carrying me around my life, into and out of some truly wonderful and outrageous and sometimes horrifying adventures.  I love that it carried me on horseback all over the place, allowed me to throw it down mountains on skiis, glided me through water salt and sweet.  It grew me a baby 32 years ago, and then fed and nurtured that baby, who is now his own human being with his own life.

I feel as if I’m saying goodbye to that nice body, the one that danced and played music night after night after night after dizzy exhausting night.

That body is, for all intents and purposes, gone.  That body, the one that I knew I had because it felt so fucking amazing lifting weights, powering up mountains, inching along rock ledges, is changed for one I can’t ignore, for entirely different reasons.

This new body tingles and buzzes.  Sometimes it bangs on pots and pans, other times it feels like zippers zipping up and down my arms.  Reaching for an object gets me electric shocks.  

My previous body had pain. Lots of pain, most of the time, in fact.  But as long as it still worked, carried me around, worked its way into the asanas I loved, I put up with the pain. As long as there was that confidence that if I kept on putting one foot in front of the other, I’d reach my goal, no matter how distant–the pain served as evidence of my progress.

There have been times when the pain put a stop to my activity.  I’ve had stretches of months at a time when simply getting out of bed took half a day’s energy, and getting back in took the other half.  This is discouraging.  But I’ve always pulled out of those nosedives, got back in the saddle and rode away.

Not this time.  

The bones in my neck are getting worn down because of ligamentous laxity.  I love that term, don’t you?  Say it a few times.  It’s fun!

Actually it’s not fun.  When your ligaments get over-stretched and no longer hold your bones in place, the bones slip around and rub against each other.  The cartilage wears off.  Bones grate against bones.

It’s not quite so awful if it’s one or two bones that are loose, but if you have a whole spine full of them, you have a problem.  I have that problem.

It’s not just my cartilage that is crumbling, either.  My muscles seem to have jumped into the act.  I’m nursing multiple rotator cuff tears, in both shoulders.  I have tendons that are shredding.  Ligaments, too, are becoming frayed.

We know this because of MRI information.  We also know this because my recent hand surgery revealed tissue damage that has been going on for decades, a representation in my wrist of the destruction in my whole body.

Of course now the nerves have come on board.  They buzz, they vibrate, they pinch, they stab.  They ache.

Something in my neck has changed for the worse, so I made an appointment with a local spine surgeon who I’ve seen in the past.  Unfortunately for me, he retired at the end of the year, so I saw his successor: a nice young man, full of algorithms and theory but not much experience.

“When did this start?”  His opener.

“In 1983.”  I felt myself slip away into dissociation.  

“Oh, but this time.  Did it start yesterday?”

Patience, Laura.  It’s not his fault he doesn’t know you.

“I have a genetic defect of collagen structure.”  I gave him a quick rundown of my history of spontaneous dislocations, spinal badness, surgery, injections, etc.  His eyes glazed over.

Fortunately, I collect CDs of all my MRIs, and they were on his computer already.  We aborted the attempt at oral history and just looked at the pictures.

Oh look, he says, you have at least three unstable levels in your neck.

Yes, I nodded (not much of a nod, because I can’t look up because my neck is stuck that way).  And something has very much changed, and that’s why I’m here.

And luckily, when the nitwits at the Cleveland Clinic did the Whole Nervous System 3 hour long MRI looking for MS, they used contrast, which showed the benign tumors that are inhabiting my vertebrae.

Did the New Guy think that hemangiomas (benign tumors made of blood vessels) would be a problem for surgery?

Certainly, he said.  But if you have a collagen problem, that alone might contraindicate surgery.

Yeah, I kind of thought so, I mumbled.

There must have been something on the floor, because we both stared at it for an awkward interval.

Well…he fidgeted with his cuticle…I guess the first thing is to get a new MRI.  Make an appointment to review it with me.

The MRI is in a couple of days.  Then I’ll get the news: something I can live with till the next thing?  Something that’s going to cause further damage unless fixed?

Right.  I’ve already had that opinion.  In fact, I’ve had three separate opinions, from three separate spine centers, that all say the same thing: no surgery, not much life left.

I’m feeling like a box of cereal that’s past its expiration date.  Stale.  Crumbling.

And sooner than later, full of worms.