New Year Not As Planned

So far, my new year hasn’t gone as planned whatsoever. I was attempting to focus on healing physically and emotionally, and I was determined to get it right this time. I’ve started working out again – yoga, long walks, and my first bike ride in months.

On New Year’s Day, I was recovering from lack of sleep, taking it easy and getting some work done on my laptop. A “friend” stopped by after drinking a bottle of vodka (I wasn’t aware at the time how much) and got on my nerves like most drunks do before she passed out while I babysat her. I had some cards and a book by Shannon Kaiser that I wanted to work with, and when I showed her, she laughed. I was not amused, and I sent her home. I don’t need anyone getting in my way of my healing/recovery. I just want to be happy, because being depressed is no way to feel.

Same friend also talked me into trying Facebook dating, which has also been a waste of time like all of the dating sites. One match has no vehicle. Another one has no time. What the fuck. Why be on there? I don’t need a penpal. Said friend tells me I need to be more open minded about meeting men. Just because she matches with a shit ton of men doesn’t mean I’m closed minded about who I meet. I’m just careful, I have standards about spending quality time with quality people, and I’m not looking to date multiple men. It would be nice to find just one with an actual brain (and a vehicle), but I’m not holding my breath.

I have an upper respiratory/cold that started just around New Year’s Eve and has gotten progressively worse. Last night I was up coughing most of the night, which of course, disturbed my much needed sleep, which caused me to sleep later, and I missed important phone calls from my doctor. The other day I had some pain and bleeding as if I’d started my period, even though I no longer have a uterus. So now I have another doctor’s appointment to see what’s going on, and I’m afraid I’m going to need yet another surgery. I don’t start another job for at least 3 more weeks, but if I have to have another surgery, I won’t be going.

The other night, I was talked into going out, even though I told myself I would stay in. I should have listened to myself instead of other people, but I figured it was the weekend and just one more time out before I start a new week. My ride left, and when I went to take an Uber, my phone completely died on me. No one was around, and it was late, and I ended up walking five miles to my house.

I realize I need to completely change my circle of friends and my habits if I want to heal properly. Since the holidays, I drank way too much alcohol, and I need to find alternative things to do, even if I do it alone, because ultimately I’m alone anyway. A healthier lifestyle is what I want for myself, which means I need to find people that are like-minded.

End of Year Brain Dump 2019

I’ve been struggling a lot emotionally lately. I don’t know if it’s the holidays or a combination of things that have kicked in, things that have triggered PTSD, anxiety, and depression back full force, causing me to lose sleep and lose my appetite again. I seemed to have been doing fine up until about a month ago. I need to get back to counseling, but I don’t have my next appointment until the end of January.

What changed? Some of my habits changed. Since the holidays are here, I’ve been going out more, which means drinking more, which has brought up some suppressed feelings about things I wasn’t ready to deal with before. Suddenly, I’m aware of things that I don’t want to think about, but I’m unsure what to do with these feelings.

Major anxiety and depression has my mind going back and forth, creating stories that don’t exist (this is where I need to put them into a fiction story just to get it out), and I can’t focus on anything. I haven’t been this bad in two years. My appetite has changed. I don’t have much of one, and I don’t know if it’s due to stress (I tend to not eat when I’m stressed) or other things that I’m allowing to bother me. Perhaps it’s hormonal, but I don’t think this is.

Holidays. Parts of my family do not get along or speak to each other anymore, which makes it difficult on everyone trying to get together. It also makes it sad for the rest of us. Being single once again during the holidays is also taxing, kicking in reminders of how our society views women as failures for being single at all.

All of this reminds me of when I was a senior in high school when my first boyfriend cheated on me and dumped me without telling me. I was devastated. I have that same gut anxiety feeling right now. I remember then that I couldn’t eat and couldn’t sleep, but I rode my bike a lot just to let out some physical angst. The only thing different is that I’m in my 40s, haven’t been working out, and I have more life experience. So why is this awful feeling coming back? Triggers.

I suppose I need to learn to recognize what really triggers all of this, but I’m thinking it probably has a lot to do with abandonment issues and feelings of lack of love and trust from people that I’ve loved and I thought loved me, too. At this point, do I even know what love is, because what I thought was love apparently was not. Hmmm….

Friendships Based on Trust

To me, time spent with someone is something you can never get back, so I don’t like to waste it on people that ultimately don’t care about me. I do not take friendships or any type of relationship lightly. If I’m going to call someone a friend, then it means they’re special enough for me to spend time with. Of course, there are different levels and types of friendships, but if I’m going to call someone a “friend,” it means that I have trust in that person. Broken trust isn’t mendable to me, as I don’t have time for it.

Recently, I met a guy that worked at a farm where I buy eggs and honey. I hadn’t seen him there in the past, but the first time I met him, as I was leaving he said to me that I was “gorgeous, by the way.” I was completely taken aback, because I hadn’t expected it, especially having no makeup and my hair looking like a rat’s nest that day, not to mention my frumpy clothing. The next time I went to the farm, we chatted longer, and he said something about getting coffee, so I gave him my business card. Then I didn’t hear from him.

The following week I went back to the farm, and he said he’d lost my card and could he have another one? I said sure, now that you have my number, use it. When I left, he’d texted me right away so that he didn’t lose my number again. I said I figured I didn’t hear from you because you had a girlfriend or something. He said, no nothing like that. He complimented me a lot in a way that a man will compliment a woman he’s interested in dating, not someone to just be friends. But then my gut told me something wasn’t right. I thought maybe he was a convict or something shady, but I figured out his last name, looked him up, and it turns out he has a wife of only 6 months! When I confronted him, he tried to backtrack and say he just needed someone to talk to (what am I, a therapist??), and that he just “wanted a friend”. I told him that he’d flat out lied to me, so there is no friendship for me with anyone that lies. He made excuses; I told him to have a nice life. I’m just glad I didn’t waste another moment of my time putting effort into a friendship based on dishonesty.

That brings me to another story about someone else that claimed to be a friend but in actuality is a frenemy. I learned years ago that she had talked shit about me while I was going through my divorce. The last thing that I needed was someone pretending to be my friend at a time when I needed true friendship the most. Fast forward to a couple of years ago when she needed some information on a guy she was dating, and when I told her what I knew, she insinuated that I was interested in dating him, which wasn’t the case at all. More recently, this frenemy created a passive-aggressive hashtag that I knew was directly aimed at me, and that’s when I decided to just block her. I never considered her an actual friend anyway, because my actual friends do not act the way she does.

The definition of friendship is a state of mutual trust and support. It’s a pretty simple concept, but I guess some people will never get it. I’d rather be alone than with someone I cannot trust.

I Wish I Wasn’t Me

**(NOTE: This was written many years ago, maybe 15-20.)

I remember when I used to be much more ignorant about the world, yet I was a much happier person because of it. I used to think life was simple and easy going. I used to think that life was all about having a job, getting married, and having kids. I used to have such an innocent outlook on things. Since, I’ve learned differently and my soul has been tainted with the negative side of life… a side that has made me wish I were someone else.

If what I don’t know doesn’t hurt me, then I’d live a life of bliss. Unfortunately, I think that knowing too much has done more harm than good. If I weren’t so good at English, then I wouldn’t care to notice everyone else’s horrible grammar and spelling. If hadn’t chosen an artistic field, then I wouldn’t be scrutinizing every little detail about others, as artists tend to do. If I hadn’t been born with the innate tendency to pick up on people, then I’d have no reason to worry about being a private investigator. If I’d chosen to be a housewife instead of having a career, then I wouldn’t be sitting here worrying about everything else. If I’d chosen to stay in a bad relationship rather than be single, then why do I feel I’d be better off with someone who doesn’t love me than no one at all? Would I be one of those wives that turn the blind eye on a cheating husband, or would I be too stupid to know any better?

If I were a stupid person, I’d be happy as hell because I wouldn’t know any better. There are enough stupid people around so I’d at least fit in with their group. At least stupid people feel loved – even when they’re not.

I get told often that I’m “beautiful”, “gorgeous”, “sexy”, etc… but I don’t feel it. How can people who say these things turn right around and say things that are equally as insulting and degrading, and then expect me to believe it? Or these same people’s actions prove they’re just liars. How can someone who doesn’t feel loved feel any of those good things at all?

If I wasn’t me, then would I be happier?

Recovery After Laparoscopic Hysterectomy by a Robot

Nearly two weeks ago, I was lying on a surgical table, belly bloated with CO2 gas, head tilted towards the floor, legs in stirrups, with a robotic laparoscope inserted in 4 different places in my abdomen. The thought of it sounds like a sci-fi movie, and I only wish I’d had a photo of the position I was in just for laughs.

When I was awakened after the surgery, I didn’t feel too much pain at the time. I was still high on anesthesia and whatever other pain meds they pumped into my system intravenously, but all I wanted to do was sleep it off. The nurse put me in a corner station, saying it should be quiet for me there. Shortly after, I felt like I was going to vomit, mainly because the assistants outside of the curtain were talking loudly and banging around and talking on their phones. Seriously! I wanted to yell, “Library voices!!” But I didn’t even have the strength.

The nausea worsened with the noise, and the doctors said if I vomited, they would have to keep me overnight. I wasn’t about to stay overnight, because I was an hour from my house, and no one wanted to make the drive again the following day. Once I got my stomach to settle down a bit, I got my bag of meds and left for home. All I wanted to do was lay down and sleep off the anesthesia and meds. But that didn’t happen.

As soon as I lay my head down on my couch, my neighbor started the lawnmower right next to my door and windows by the room I was in. Noise and movement is what made me want to vomit in the first place, and I was beginning to get a migraine from it all. Not only was I annoyed, I was feeling really awful. The nausea, the headache, and now the pain meds were really wearing off.

Later that evening a friend came over to help me. At some point I did start puking, and the excruciating pain from the CO2 gas started. If you’ve never experienced that pain (I have before but not to this extent), it can be compared to the feeling of having a heart attack, because the gas is pressing on the diaphragm, and you feel like you’re being suffocated. The best way I can describe it is it’s as if someone is nailing railroad spikes directly down into your shoulders. Or it’s like having labor in your shoulders. Add puking to that and you just feel like you’re dying worse than any flu x10. Since I couldn’t keep anything down, I couldn’t take anymore pain meds. This went on all night. So there I was in excruciating pain on Night One without any rest whatsoever.2

The following day I slept very little, still in pain. Same story for Night Two – no sleep, and no amount of pain medicine helped (I was given Tramadol, because I requested NO opioids, which make me sick). I had stopped puking, however, but I had no appetite and couldn’t eat more than a bite or two of toast or crackers and some fluids. In fact, I didn’t eat more than three to four bites of anything for a couple of days.

Then came Nights Three and Four. I started to finally rest a little bit, but because I had been in so much pain, it didn’t occur to me to take my temperature. I’d been running a fever, and that lasted for the next two or three days/nights. I was to call the hospital if it went over 101, which it was, but I’m stubborn and decided to try some Tylenol instead. It worked, and the only thing about having a fever is that it actually made me sleep quite a bit. Once the fever broke and I started feeling better, I tried eating soup. (At that point I’d only had crackers, toast and water.) Again, three or four bites and I was full.

Day Six is when the other pain started – back pain, which I suspect was a result of being tossed around during surgery. It felt like a pinch that a chiropractor could fix, but I couldn’t go to a chiro. I had only been given 3 days of pain meds, and I spent the next two nights in more pain and literally awake the entire night until 4 or 5 a.m. Nothing I did helped the pain. By then I was about to lose it. Pain, lack of sleep, lack of nutrition = meltdown. I spent a lot of time crying, which was a bit of a release.

By Day Seven, I threw in the towel. I had a friend bring me some beer, drank more than I should have, but slept the night away. Paid for it by sitting on the toilet the entire next day, but at least I slept. Now I am on week 2 and still trying to get my body back on a regular schedule. Sleep pattern is all over the place. I eat maybe one full meal a day, but other than that small meals throughout the day. As for pain, it’s pretty much gone, but I do feel tender and sensitive at the incision areas and some of my insides. My stomach muscles feel weak, as expected, and I can’t wait to be able to go back to yoga class. Tomorrow I go for my first post-op visit.

In the meantime, I’m not supposed to lift more than 10 pounds, do any type of housecleaning (yeah right), and for now I haven’t been driving yet. This is definitely taking a lot longer than I had expected. I’m just anxious for the rewards of never having a period or a PAP again!