The owls and the possums know me by heart.
and assorted bits of cat food, laced with white, organic tortilla chips.
cutting through two-years of resignation.
here's to anyone s-t-u-c-k between zero and one.
Lately, I can't help but notice all of the energy being directed at what's wrong with the world. A dog being choked by its owner, a political conspiracy, another death--unspeakable things darken my news feeds.
It leaves me breathless. It leaves me groping in midnight for the tiniest spark, which, depending on the day, may light the way, or burn down the whole effing building with everyone in it.
Unknowingly, I've been a part of THIS.
I've been a part of the world that roots for no possibility.
I didn't do it intentionally.
I did it because I got caught up....in the strain of the moment...in the feeling that THIS is not right...in the belief that THIS--whatever THIS is--MUST be acknowledged. Otherwise, my life, my pain, or my experience somehow will not matter.
THIS has also made me irresponsible.
For nearly two years, I've felt THIS so deeply, that the thought of NOT feeling THIS and NOT discussing THIS has become unfathomable.
"How can I express me, without expressing THIS?" I've questioned....day after day after day.
"You can, if you choose to." My heart finally answered.
Other things have happened, but I choose to focus on THIS.
As I write this, I am surrounded by magazines...FAT, juicy, stylish magazines with cover shots of fresh oranges, skinny waists, and famous celebrities.
Break Your Bad Habits! --one screams.
Start the New Year Bright!--beckons my favorite.
They're all different, but hopelessly the same: tuned in to my desperate need to improve, conquer, elevate, and perform.
Each January, I plunge into the abyss...usually driven by something ridiculous, worthy, or unreachable.
One year, I was determined to wear size 3 Ann Taylor Loft jeans.
Another, I vowed to write every day.
Another, I took on making a certain amount of money during a certain period of time.
Last year, I launched operation "Get healthy and document it."
1. To let you know I was going to be quiet for a while.
2. To declare 2012 the year of "Being" not "Doing."
3. To create some semblance of a normal life...away from message boards, computers, and 24/7 Lyme Disease.
Tired of discussing tests, doctors, and medications.
Tired of trying to make the best of, or shed light on, an exhausting situation.
Tired of sharing more with strangers on the internet than with my friends or husband.
Partly, as Shauna puts it, for survival.
for the me that's quietly bubbling up to the surface.
I miss generating some-thing and no-thing.
For a while, this blog filled that space.
It's not easy--folding life into pain.
Despite deep discomfort, or perhaps because of it, I ache to create, express, and contribute.
How to do that when my body runs like a Ford Pinto being held together by duct tape?
(or, as ok as I can be...Ford Pinto and all).
If you've ever seen the musical Rent, you know the Seasons of Love song. With just a few simple words, it captures the struggle we all have: to experience joy and pain and treasure it all equally.
This past year has been like that. 365 days of inches, miles, laughter, and strife.
So many nights, I thought I was going to die.
So many blessings...created from misery.
There are no words to describe what it's like to cry out, night after night, drowning in the dark.
Or, how much you appreciate an "ordinary day," once it's escaped you.
I can't express it now, but I hope these 365 (or so) posts somehow did.
I'm grateful for that AND for you.
The skin above my l eft eyebrow is flaking. Pieces of me fall off in chunks, from my matted hair, over my swollen eyelids, into the lines above my cheekbones.
"I look so old," I can't help but notice.
Gone are my bright eyes of wonder. In their place, a sagging, droopy stare that appears more 80 than 41. It is just the beginning of torment.
My left arm hangs at my side, unable to withstand the pull of gravity.
"I. just. need. to. hold. it," I think, tugging at it incessantly. My right arm carries it, like a sling. It now holds the weight of two. I hope it can endure without breaking.
"You're not getting well," they tease.
"It's been over a year."
"You can turn this around."
Invisible to the naked eye, stands a coach and a patient. Each with something to say. Each determined to drown out the other. Each valid in their points of view, even when the view is less than empowering.
In the middle, is me. The real me with a big "M"...listening, waiting, hoping, praying.
Day 335: Novel Idea. I'm Going To Try It.
If you know me, you know one of my greatest dreams is to finish a book. I say finish, because I've started several of them. Three or four chapters in, I always get stuck stop.
"It's the wrong topic," I think.
"I should write when I have something more interesting to say."
"Not sure I have the energy for this."
"I'm not as good as so and so..."
Still, November is National Novel Writing Month. And, it would be great to accomplish something that isn't related to sickness, showering, or spider four-suit solitaire.
So, I just gave myself a deadline and signed up for thirty days and nights of literary abandon.
(Ie: I committed to writing a 50,000 word (approximately 175 page) novel by 11:59:59, November 30).
PS Want to join me? Don't be intimidated. It's about quantity not quality. The goal is to silence your inner critic and write, write, write. Through the outpouring, hopefully, something magical will happen.
Lately, I've received several emails, messages, and texts. "Where've you been?" "Are you ok?" "Miss you." I feel the same way...missing, somehow disconnected. I can't really say where the time's gone. I'm not out doing the Hustle. I haven't been napping (except this afternoon). I'm not spending my usual time in the sauna, sorting meds, dry brushing, blogging, juicing, on Facebook.
I am behind...on everything (phone calls, dishes, art journals...you name it).
I guess, realistically, you could say, I've been at the doctors. On average, I have 4-6 appointments a week. With travel, that takes between 12-15 hours. Add on labs, colonics, lymphatic stuff, massage, crazy foot baths...another 5+ hours...gone.
It all feels very consuming.
When I get home, I usually just stare into space. Too tired to cook, I eat out often. When I can muster up some extra oompha, I go to a movie, have Angel wheel me around Disney, get some fresh air, or visit with friends. Yesterday, in between sips of tea at Starbucks (a rare outing), I caught up with two friends. One just opened a bakery (you should totally visit it). Another just had a baby.
"Are you working?" one asked.
"Are you better yet?" the other said.
In between, I'm daydreaming...about taking a class, singing lessons, working, improv, exercise. It's too soon for those things. Instead, I'm settling for Solitaire. Still, it's a good sign I'm thinking about them.
Hard to believe it's already October.
Fall afternoon + unread magazines + decaf hibiscus, papaya, mango tea = joy.
Altered Today: Time for ME...away from beds, living room chairs, and (for a little while) illness.
Stop thinking you can’t make a difference.
Stop thinking you have to perfect to be __________, be successful, or be happy.
You are so incredibly precious .
And there is only one you that can be the difference you are for the world.
You get to say how it goes.
Day 310: Eat It. I Dare You.
Thai hot is not the same as Indian hot. Thai hot will have you sipping water, smiling, reading a book at an outdoor cafe. Indian hot will have you staring at your plate, unable to take another bite, calculating the steps to the door, bathroom, and car.
I've been enjoying the curries--red, green, yellow. I'm even getting used to the lamb...which is fortunate since I've eaten it 7 days in a row. But what I am really loving??? The rice. I've never eaten much rice. It makes me feel grounded, balanced, healthy.
It's a weird thing about grains. My Naturopath encourages me to eat them. My lyme research says not to. My Acupuncturist's Associate (aka Chinese Nutritionist) says they are absolutely necessary. The Eat Right for Your Type Diet says they're beneficial (especially the rice part).
So I guess that means I'm now doing some kind of Chin-Naturo-Lyme-Eat Right diet: allowing grains but only certain ones, embracing the no-sugar law, reintroducing some low-sugar fruits, ignoring dairy (except for greek yogurt), avoiding gluten, being selective with my meat choices. On the surface, it appears to be helping: I've lost 10 pounds; I'm eating more regularly; I feel more stable.
We're all so different (and change so much). I think figuring out what works best for you is truly one of the toughest parts of the battle.
Altered Today: Respect...for hot foods, Indian cuisine, and my dietary choices.
PS To find what the Eat Right for Your Type Diet recommends for your blood type, go here. For a Candida Diet food list, go here. To read about my other dietary experiments, go here and here and here.