Monday, July 28, 2014

head amputation

I remember the fear very clearly as I progressed though therapy and the unpacked all those dark secrets in my head.

I was so used to wrestling with the night demons that sanity was a unfamiliar realm that scared me.

I sat fidgeting in my chair, as the burr with my soul chaffed on my soul.

His brown eyes squinted at me as he watched me fight with. Debating if he should speak first or let me open the conversation.

At last I launched into a long list of concerns and feelings and observations about how I was doing.

He let me ramble on uninterrupted.

When I happened to notice a smile lighting up his face I paused in my dissertation.

"P..." he said smiling bigger. "It sounds to me like your describing being happy."

"Well I don't like it!" I shouted back, "It's...unsetting."

"New ground, you will learn to be comfortable here."

"Ugghh." I groaned.

and we worked on learning to live in the sane world.

My biggest fear at that time was the extremely close connection between my writing and my mental state. I feared that my writing would weaken and loose its punch if I were "sane."

My writing did change.

I feel it got stronger.

I am facing that same issue again.

This time the medication has dulled that part of me who writes. I feel like a master painter who has had both armed amputated and my brain is screaming PAINT!!!

To have the talent and be able to express it is like an bird with its wings clipped. I know I belong to the sky, but can't fly.

I want to stop the buspirone, which is causing this.

I don't want to return to the 24/7 anxiety that this medication dulls.

So I am left trying to express the writer within through an occluded channel.

I am going to try to force the issue by focused writing this week.  See if I can't find a breach in the medication shield. Find a way to write in this head space, to learn to co-exist within medicated sanity.

So in other words...incoming boring posts for the week....

Saturday, July 26, 2014

hole in the dipper

So many stories swirling in my writers pail.

held back by a gelatinous placenta of restricting numbness

a shield tempered by the dull thick blanket of medication laying on my mind.

Stab at it with a knife, unable to pierce it...

chemically induced sanity.

Madness has a sound, a rhythm, a pulse...a beat.

muted by the medication

like a junkie I crave the pull of the night

To drink the screams

...and vomit out the pain.

Wednesday, July 23, 2014

WTFudge??!!! MORE dangling wires!!

When I tell people I live an exciting life for someone so boring...most people don't believe me...Guess what happened today?

Yup, even MORE dangling wires.

Was minding my own business folding laundry in the back bedroom around 1:15 pm, when the house shook and it sounded like the tree toppled over and the branches scrapped the house.

I bolted outside to see what was going on, and saw a White cab, with FedEx on it pulling a long RED (that's important detail) trailer, disappearing down our street.

They had caught the old phone line that was attached to the house and yanked the puppy out by the roots.

yeah for cable internet/phone! We just switched like 2 months ago. So we don't actually need that line anymore. But I would have preferred that the phone company remove it vs FedEx. heh.

I call the owners of the line and they were here within and hour to clean up the mess.

I also tried to contact FedEx to report the accident and let them know they need to check their truck for damage.  Oh my gosh....that was an adventure in psycho-automated phone land.

The recorded voice prompt wanted a voice command. "Please tell me what you're calling about"

me, very politely: "customer service"

her: "you want to check on a package delivery date? I can help you with that."

Me: "NO!"

Her: "Please tell me what you're calling about"

Me, not so politely: "speak to a representative"

Her: "You want to schedule a pick up? I can help you with that."

Me: "NO!!"

Her: "Please tell me what you're calling about"

Me: "Felgercarb!" (yes I swear in old 70's tv slang)

Her: "Let me transfer you to a representative."

Now dealing with the autophone-bot had my dander already fluffed and ready to fight; so I took some deep breaths and politely explained I just wanted to report the incident so the driver could check his vehicle for damage, as a large piece of the connecter was missing form the end of the wire.

That was it.

They passed me around all over heck then left with a woman who wanted the description of the unit involved.

Sighing deeply, because this was turning into more trouble then I wanted to deal with, I said. "It was a white/blue cab pulling a red trailer both had FedEx on the sides."

"We don't have blue only purple."

Dander rising again. "Looked blue to me."

"We do not have any red trailers."

"Look I saw it, it was all red with FEDEX on the side."

"We do not have any red trailers.  Did it say freight or shipping on it?"

"It was hauling balls around the corner at the end of the block, white/blue cab BIG ALL RED trailer, both had FEDEX in them. That is all I saw."

"Did it say freight or shipping on it? I can't transfer you until I know this."

what part of  that is all I saw  is she not getting? I hang up on her.

I'm de-stressing this summer and I have no time for foolishness.

Monday, July 21, 2014

Senior Discount

The young woman at KFC gave me a senior discount on Saturday without even asking me if I qualified. I just happened to notice the huge DISCOUNTED text and had a closer look.

I am torn between feeling insulted that I look old enough to qualify at 48....and the fact it was $1.34 off our ticket.

Every where we go kids will ask my daughter: "Is that your Grandma?"

When she tells them "No, that's my mama."  They will look at me with suspicious eyes.

Above photo taken hours before the SD event. Do I really look 65? Heh.


I'm going to take my teeth out next time and go for a 20% senior discount.

Sunday, July 20, 2014

speaking of P, powerlines, police and firemen....

What the heck? I blog about bee's and get stung...I blogged about my adventures with power lines and now this happens? 

DUDE - you totally need to blog about money falling into your lap next!!

For sure!!

Here is my latest adventures with power lines, police and firemen. (and yes there was Pepsi involved, and puppies too this time!)

I am actually blogging this incase this case goes to court. I want to put down the info while its fresh in my mind. Then if I get called to testify as an eye witness I can just submit my blog as my testimony.

You'll do anything to increase your readership won't you?

um, maybe? heh.

Had several stops to make in my hometown Sat night. I made my daughter come along for the adventure. I listened to her gripe the whole ride over that GP "is not exciting mama."

First stop to visit my old work and see the residents I have been missing so much. While there we played with a puppy.

(I need to edit this one and crop it and enlarge it so you can see the expressions, too cute!)

We left there and then the adventure started.

Turned down Highland and was less then a block away when we heard a crash. I looked up to see a white vehicle side swipe a grey/or silver colored car and then pass it an pull in front of it on the sidewalk.

I was thinking, What kinda of a fool passes on Highland? I slowed down and pulled to the side so they wouldn't hit me.

Then it pulled in front of the other car on the sidewalk and hit the driveway dip on the sidewalk and over corrected and looked to go airborne and BOOM hit the telephone pole dead center and cut through it like it was butter.

At that moment I hit the breaks and watched the pole topple. One thought in my mind. My daughter is in the truck with me. Will I be able to get her out safely if those lines fall on us?

That's the back of my truck in the right.

This angle shows actually how close we are to the van. It was still going at quite a clip after taking out the pole, the mail boxes it hit next seemed to slow it. I was worried it was going to hit those lines and push them my truck.

Had I not slowed down initially the truck would have ended up under the pole!

The lines arced twice as the pole came to rest. I couldn't believe the amount of people who kept walking close to them. A downed line is NEVER safe.

the driver there, popped right out the mangled van and I screamed at her to watch the lines. She was bare foot to boot. She ignored me and turned to the gathering crowd by the other car she ran off the road and began screaming "STOP THAT CAR THEY STOLE MY BABY! HE STOLE MY BABY!!" Then took off down the side walk after the other car.

After assessing the lines clearly, and making sure none were on the truck, I got me and my daughter out and away from the scene.

I looked at her around this point and asked..."you still think GP is boring?" Her eyes wide, "No mama! GP is pretty exciting!"

I put all my years of Boy Scout training to use and directed traffic on my end of the accident scene until the police/fire showed up.

I got a kick out of everyone coming out to get there mail form the destroyed mail box. Powers out, there trapped in their houses till the lines are cleared, might as well read the mail. GP I just love that nothing fazed you. Also gave me plenty of examples of downed power line do's and don'ts to teach my daughter.

Heh...there is my truck Smore in the thick of things.

Since we were eye witnesses we hung around and gave an report to the police. Once that was done they allowed me to move the truck. While my daughter waited an office walked next to me as I backed it out of there.

I hope they got my name correct on the police report.

I found out later the supposable the man had asked the police to come with him as he served her with custody papers and there were 3 kids in that car. She was arrested and charged. Her kids were in the car she was trying to run off the road. She wasn't trying to gently nudge him to the side of the road, she was RUNNIN' HIS ARSE DOWN!

This morning I got a call from the local paper who tracked my number down via facebook. (an impressive feat since I don't even use my real name or sex or location or anything! That reporter should quit her job and apply as a detective with the FBI)

(Link broken now, but trust me they spelled it right)

Happy to see they spelled it right for a change!!

Friday, July 18, 2014

Speaking of bee's....

Apparently the bee population didn't find my last blog humorous and they sent an agent to give me some feed back.
Bee sting to my ankle last night, it made all the veins pop out and get red and ugly.

I was really bummed to wake up today without super powers!

Tuesday, July 15, 2014

Jamming with the bee's

Way back when we were children there was a huge field between the back of our yard and the creek.

Each spring the field grass would grow waist high, and bloom with the most beautiful dainty flowers.

and the bees would come.

It was a scary thing to hear and see...the field alive with a bazillion buzzing bees.

My big sister eyed the field and disappeared into the house and returned with a jar of jam and a 1/2 a loaf of bread.

She explained her theory, as she sloppily applied jam to two slices. "If you walked straight though the grass, with arms out stretched, the bees will ignore you and go after the jam instead. This way we can get to the creek to play without getting stung."

I eyed my sister, then the hovering mass of darkness and buzzing death.


I step aside so she could test her theory.

She grinned that 'you must obey me I'm the older sister' smile of hers and held the bread out to me.

"I will walk next to you." she said with confidence "this will work."

I take the bread and close my eyes and take a deep breath. gaaaahh I haaate bugs.

"Ready?" she smiled again and  stood at the edge of the field, with one foot poised to step in.

oooh hell no...I am not doing this. I start to hand the bread back to her.

I hear laugher from behind as one of my brothers shoves me. It all happens so fast that my sister doesn't have time to follow me.

I'm off screaming like a maniac and running like a bat outta hell. The bees parted like the red sea before me, and in short order I found myself on the creek side of the field with two slices of mashed bread clenched in my hands and jam dripping between my fingers.

....wait, how am I getting back?

Before I can open my mouth to holler back the question, I see them all coming, arms out stretched and jam blobs flying off as they run to me.

...My hysterical laughter seers the memory to my heart.

Sunday, July 13, 2014

Wrestling match

The other day I went looking for SAIF corporation paper work that declared me permanently  partially disabled. I spent the afternoon sorting through the boxes of papers. One box holds all my diary entries from childhood and my therapy note books.

You know what I found out?

I have been a profoundly depressed person my whole life.

You can pick any of my diary pages and change the date and it will sound like I wrote it last night.

What really REALLY scares the crap out of me is in the middle 80's I sorted through my diary and collected all the vicious angry entries and burned them, but you would never know that from reading what is there.

I had some bad mental side effects form the Lyric and flexeril that was prescribed for the nerve pain.

What? the gods of pain want me to suffer? Okay fine, have it your way.

So that all has left me realizing....all I do is bitch anymore. I try to hide the pain I am in mental/physically as much as I can because, I don't like to be around me when I am like that and I'm sure no one else want to be either. The testy-cranky part of me will write/scream/vent then saddle up and ride on.

I am trying not to post any nutty posts this month. Force my selves to be positive.

The air conditioner gods apparently think I should be further tested in this pain trial, and have made the A/C not work.

So I am sitting here in the 100+ degree house, sweating, hurting... and trying to be cheerful.

What I really want to do is scare the crap out of all of my readers with a "Lets take the leash off the writer in P and let her write to the pain."

Cause....if I'm miserable, why shouldn't everyone else be?

So I have been wresting with my self to NOT do that and concentrate on being a normal sane human being.

I have a sticky note on the blog folder to help me remember. It reads:

Mizu no Kokoro

(a mind like still water)

Everyone pray there are no tsunami's lurking in the water. heh.

Thursday, July 10, 2014

wished she could breathe

(name changed for privacy. Found this while searching for typed out things to post. Its a memorial post to a cyber friend who died. Its interesting to me the closeness that can be reached in cyberspace. The internet has widened my world in so many ways. I have meet so many special souls that I would never have met otherwise.)

 *takes off shoes*

That is custom of my people. To honor the deceased. To stand bare footed in quiet respect for those who no longer walk this journey with us. To say what ever comes to our heart.

Someday when the writing muse quickens my spirit again, I will write a story about Sarah. About a little girl who wished she could breathe...

How I will always remember her as a little girl on the swings. That's what our relationship was like.

Some times she was close...

and sometimes far away....


far away


 there were those days she needed a shove and we were all there to give her a might underdog and set her to swinging again.

 Sarah had a tremendous strength about her. Even when the swing had bucked her out and she was nursing wounds she would get behind others and give them a push. Then get back in the swing and catch up with us.

To walk years and years with her in cyberspace. To speak to her soul and not her face. To love her so much that we spoke strongly and with deep passion ...because we didn't want her to slip from us. As if our angry words would be the grappling hooks that held her here with us for one more day. Fighting for her, fighting with her.


far away...


far away...

I feel honored to have shared some 6 odd years with her. To have read her poetry, to have cried with her to have laughed with her. To have been pushed by her. To have pushed her.

and then the swing came back empty.

the little girl who wished she could breathe


I stare at the empty seat and still the wiggling chains.

I say the only thing I can to her.

Thank you for being my friend.

 I arch back and give the swing a mighty swing ....take one deep breath in salute and call out to the night

 Peace be the Journey Sarah!!!!

Tuesday, July 8, 2014

The table

(By special request. Identifying info has been edited out to maintain everyone's privacy)

There was a girl who lived under the table.

She never came out.

No one ever went under with her.

Heck no one knew she was there.

She would watch the goings on in the house, but not say a word.

Many people came and went and she knew them all by their shoes.

Sometimes she would pinch their toes and try to get their attention. It never worked.

Other times she would be napping and get woken by a kick, or worse a smelly ol' sock right in the nose!

Sometimes she would cry. Wondering why no one was looking for her.

She wanted a friend to play with. She was lonely.

One sunny spring day, all the feet were under the table, and above she heard angry voices.
It was "YOU DO THAT!", or "YOU DID THIS!" and "I HATE YOU" and "I DON'T LIKE YOU!"

It hurt her ears.

There was talk of so and so leaving and so and so taking charge and all sorts of nonsense.

It hurt her heart.

They are a family, she thought, they should work together to do what needs to be done.

Swiftly and silently like a cat she laced all their shoes together.

There came a loud KABAAAMMMMM!! as someone smacked the table over her head.

Then one of the chairs slid back and toppled over as someone stood up quickly.


The girl watched as the orange sneakered feet whirled and took flight.

They didn't go far.

With a zipping sound everyone was pulled from their chairs and leveled to the floor.

Suddenly the girl under the table found herself starring into the surprised eyes of the faces who belonged to all those feet.

They stared back at her in surprise.

No one spoke.

Her brown eyes bubbled like cola and she covered her mouth, "heehee"

A few eyebrows disapproved of her laughing, but she didn't care.

"Why don't you all just work together?" She asked.

"We can't" said the orange sneaker girl leaning up to untangle her shoe laces. "there are too many of us."

The table girl watched them unsuccessfully attempt to untie themselves.

The more they worked the tanglier they got.

At last they just got up and learned to walk and work together to get around and do things.

Later that summer the tangled feet came back to the table. "will you tell us how to get out of this mess?"

"heehee" the girl smiled. "Just slip off your shoes."

Their laughter shook her table. That night they set a place for her and she sat at the table with them.

They were a family after that. And she was not lonely again.

When they had troubles or problems or obstacles  (as all families do) they would sit at the table and get everyone's opinion on what they should do.

And it was peaceful in the house.


Flippers (a moldy oldy for a friend)


You sit up with eyes wide.


Through the haze of the dark night I materialize. I have a tuba wrapped
around my torso held by one olive fingered hand, scuba flippers on and my
lantern duct taped to my head. I just stare at you with one eyebrow raised
like Spock. "Wwwwhat?"

You can't help yourself and you smile.

OOMPA....SQUISH....WHAPPITY, I come and sit next to you.

"Want my two cents?" I ask then continue on anyways, "long time ago when the
horse fell on me and I had a munched up pelvis and was bed fast for six
weeks, my mind got clouded by depression and got started
messing with me, it took advantage of the fact that bed had never been a safe
place, that I was a captive audience, that I was in pain, and I was isolated
from my regular routine.

My mind succumbed to the undulating waves of depression. Once there it was on
familiar turf and it was a short slid back into flashbacks and old thoughts
stirred up.

Sounds like your mind is messing with you too. You've got all those
doctors and people messing with you, you have the isolation of pain and
limited mobility, the very real fears of what if?

You have all this crap going on in your system. And your mind is
like..."too much for me" and so its injecting something familiar to "chew
on" so to speak. The stuff with your injury is open ended, you don't know how
it ends...the know how its ends its a lot safer for your mind to
tumble that through the wringer cause, though disturbing, its familiar, and
more importantly it will end."

You stare at me like I'm insane.

I continue way past my two cents and round it up to $1.23. "Rather then
inject chaos into the mix, try injecting a few of these...and see if it
doesn't help:

1. stay connected with people, have a slumber party, invite a friend or two
over for a tea party (have someone pick up coffee/drinks and a dozen donuts)

2. Cats make great therapist for the bed bound, borrow one.

3. Change your scenery, have someone move your bed by the window or go lay
on the couch for a bit.

4. books on tape.

5. prank phone calls (oh wait caller id had kinda killed that sport) better
yet prank someone who will know its you...LOL.

6. Rent a stack of old comedy and have a movie night.

the key is to combat the depression first my friend. Then the monsters will
get the heave hoe and return to whence they came."

I strike a match and light your lantern. I lean over and hug you and then
one by one transfer a hand full of olives onto your fingers.

I stand up and take my leave, OOMPA....SQUISH....WHAPPITY

You let me get a few yards away before you can contain it no longer.
"Alright I give! What's with the flippers?"

OOMPA....SQUISH....WHAPPITY, I turn back "cause its a fashion faux pas to
wear skies with tubas after new years."

Wednesday, July 2, 2014

we interupt this bring you....

....a forced break.

My neck is having issues and the nerve pain in my arms has gone ballistic....Both arms are burning most of the day. I am going to try to stay off the computer for a week. See if I can't get the pain levels back in control. They re-x-rayed my neck this morning at my doctors appt, to see if the degeneration has changed any since 3 years ago. ( was listed as moderate/severe then)

They also started me on Lyrica for the nerve pain. ....its a cousin of Neurontin that had adverse side effects on my head a few years we shall see. I am willing to try ANYTHING at this point to get the burning nerve pain back under control.

So I'm adding limited computer time to my summer changes already in place. I will make an exception for our four man Baldur's Gate no-reload trilogy scheduled every Sat morning....a girl has to get in her gaming time!

Sitting at the computer blogging for hours is not a good thing for my neck right now. We shall see how long I can live without blogging. I have really REALLY enjoyed the extra free time to write this month. Lots of stories in the works.

Last night I wrote this, but then didn't post it. Its a short testy documentary of what burning nerve pain will do to me. Um, yeah...I get a little bitchy. heh, see you all in a week.

* * * * TRIGGER WARNING* * * *

My physical pain tonight is 10/10. I have an appointment in the morning to get help. I am feeling INCREDIBELY HOSTILE AND ANGERY. I want to hurt my selves in all sorts of ways to try to get away from the pain. Yeah...that doesn't make more sense, but that is how SIV works....

My neck arthritis flared up last week, I have neuropathy goes down both arms causing my arms to BURN LIKE A MOTHER FUCKER from armpit to wrists. Its incredibly painful. If I had insurance or a job I would be in the ER right now begging for them to be amputated.

Normally I can deal with the chronic pain but I also aggravated the low back/pelvic issues as well a week ago when I added a easy exercise routine. I am hurting in too many places to ignore. I am falling apart and it pisses me off.

I have tried to blog twice today to just refocus my head, but its too had to type with my arms/hands numb.