Vexing Kitty

A year ago  today, I wrote about the talent my cats have for finding inconvenient places to sleep. It's kind of funny this was happening last year, because today, Rhiannon decided to get stuck under one of the pieces of furniture in my bedroom. The area under it is so narrow we didn't think a cat could manage to get there, but as these are our weird cats, they found a way.

This maybe wouldn't have even been a problem if Rhi was younger, but she's old now and has hip issues. Her hips started to ache while she was down there and this set off a series of hell-yowls. My roommate was worried she couldn't get out and theorized he could pull her out by removing the lowest drawer. It was a good idea, except the lowest drawer has a back and bottom under it. It also had a dirt dobber nest, but that's been removed.

Finally, she made it out on her own. We moved some stuff around the opening so she can't get in there any more. This will piss her off, but it's better than going through this drama again. Sometimes blockades are the only way to deal with cats.

Order through Sticks

There are two things I preach on  this blog quite often. The first is that all people are creative. Their creativity might not manifest in a traditionally accepted way as 'art,' but that doesn't mean they're not creative. The second is that creativity is the reason we survive. I believe that now. I will believe that til my dying breath.

I read a good example of it yesterday. In one of my knitting groups, a woman posted some lace she'd been working on. She talked about how rough her life was at the moment. She was just about to turn 30, had a lot of financial difficulties, and really only had the space of her bed to call her own. She said  that she couldn't control much, but she could control two sticks and some yarn, and with that she could make beautiful things.

Creativity is such a profound form of therapy. For one thing, it allows you to narrow your focus to your project, which helps to quiet all the chaos going on around you. For another thing, it allows you to stay IN the moment, one with your activity. When you're in the moment, you're not worried about the future or regretting past decisions.

And this is by far the most useful way to cope. You can't rely on other people to calm  you down or distract you. Even if they can for a while, you're going to end up draining them to the point they want nothing to do with you. But a project can be some of the best therapy around.

Sometimes the best way to order our minds is to find order in something else. If you can't knit or draw or write or whatever, fix something that is broken. Clean something that needs to be cleaned. Organize an area of your house. You will feel more productive and spend some time in the moment. If you start to feel overwhelmed, remember that just to small sticks can make all the difference in the world.

Crafter Problems

Ahh, pre-Fall, this vexing time of year when some days grace you with the cool, gentle touch of Autumn's embrace and other days slap you in the face with Summer's sweaty ballsack. Today was one of the sweaty ballsack days. It wasn't pleasant at all. This lead to some difficulties for me where my current project is concerned. On the cool days, it's a pleasure to work on it. On days like today, it's hot and annoying and sticky. No fun at all.

Despite the heat, I have a little over a foot of scarf. I'm happy with it, though I do keep trying to crochet the side instead of the direction I should be going. I suppose when it gets longer, this will be less of an issue. Here's hoping it cools down some, so that getting there will be more of a joy.

Wants, Needs,Dreams

I've been oddly inspired and in the mood for certain things in my life. Some of these things are not really possible right now, but I still like to dream about them. Other things are not impossible, but I'm still not sure how to make them happen.

The first thing I'd like is to have a writer's group again. I think I (and a lot of the other writers I know) would benefit from this. I was in one a long time ago, but it fell apart. I still have very fond memories of it. My best friend became my best friend because of the writer's group.

I would also like to start a church. Well, maybe church is the wrong word. I want to start a group where people get together, eat a meal, and spend the whole evening singing. No like actual religion stuff. No lectures about how to live. Certainly no politics. Just an evening of eating, drinking, and singing. I miss group singing and I think it's an important part of keeping people spiritually sound.

I'm not really sure how to make either of these things happen and have them function in a meaningful way, but I would love it if they could. I would want them to serve a pure purpose and not get smothered in negativity and people trying to control it. That is actually the opposite of what I want. I want LESS negativity and more positivity in my life. I need things that will fill me, not more stuff that just leaves me feeling drained.

We'll see what I can swing.

Unhelpful Advice

People, especially religious people, seem to be scrambling for ways to make some sense out of all the adultery it seems married folk have been doing. Mostly, this seems to involve writing a lot of articles about ways to keep everyone faithful. Oddly, most of these articles don't address communication or discussing why the passion is waning or ways the people within the relationship can jumpstart their sex lives. Mostly, it's about Temptation and the way they write about it, the word should be followed by ominous piano chords or thunder.

Usually, the ways they want people to avoid Temptation (cue ominousness) involve making things weird and awkward for people outside of the marriage, like friends, coworkers, and basically anyone else of the opposite sex ever. Don't eat lunch with opposite sex coworkers! Don't volunteer with parents of the opposite sex! Don't join groups if you know you might have to talk to people who aren't of your own gender!

I could say a lot about this, but I'll stick with two points.

First of all, the only way this would be possible is we go back to a culture where we mostly keep the genders separated. A lot of these religious types would like this. They don't want women working. They don't want men volunteering for things they view as 'women's causes' like PTA. They want women to stay in the home. If they are in public, it should be in spaces where they're just around other women, like the supermarket or the hair salon. Men should be in men's spaces, like jobs that make money or the deer woods.

With this in mind, it's clear to see that the 'suggestions' made in advice articles like this are designed to further their gender agenda (see what I did there?!!) and less about actually finding ways to keep couples from cheating.

Second of all, what in the name of all that is sacred makes these people think everyone who is heterosexual is interested in having sex with EVERYONE ELSE who is also heterosexual? Do they really believe people have such little control? Do they really believe people have no taste or common decency? If you want to boink everyone you meet just because they have the opposite plumbing I think you may have some pretty deep issues going on and some serious lack of respect for other people.  Oh, and even if you DO want to do that, why would you think they do?

Do people honestly think that way? Ick.

The Ball is Gone

So with the stray ball of yarn, I managed to get a hat, a headwrap, a cowl, and a mini scarf.  Even fringed the mini scarf so that all the last bits of yarn were used. I'm so happy about this! Especially because I honestly had no idea what to do with this ball. Now all of it serves a purpose.

I'm sure you've noticed that most of the time when I work on yarn projects, I'm doing them for myself. This isn't the case with a lot of people, and it isn't something I always do. However, I do know that I make a lot of stuff that won't leave me.

There are reasons for this. For one, I know that not everyone likes knitted or crocheted stuff. I used to make things for people more often, but sometimes I got the impression they didn't care for them. When someone expresses an interest in something, I'll make them a gift. The rest of the time, I assume they're good with what they have.

Also, at my sizes, even finding accessories isn't all that easy. One of the reasons I started knitting was to augment patterns to fit me. I suppose I could make them for other people of ample size, but so far, that hasn't been a thing anyone needed. In the meantime, I'm managing to get myself some (wonky) things to wear, and this is great for me. I'm going to make socks next.

Once I'm done with the socks, I'm going to try and figure out a plan for all the beads I have lurking around. The beads need to be part of something. Soon.

Love, Passion, and Pitfalls

I think if the Ashley Madison hack has taught us anything, it's that Checkmark Love never works. I've written about this before, but if you're new to the blog, Checkmark Love is when you have a mental (or sometimes physical) list of what you believe you need to have in a lover. Instead of just letting yourself be open into truly falling in love with someone, you include or exclude people as dating potential depending on how close they are to conforming with your list of qualities. When you finally settle down, it is with the person who has the most check marks off of that list.

The problem is, you don't really LOVE a person when they're just chosen by Checkmark Love. They fit your criteria and you accept the rest about them. It's rational. You may feel some lust, especially if they conform to how you deep someone should look when they are sexually exciting. There is no mind-bending passion or feeling of life-affirming happiness, but you assume that's all just hokum anyway.

Love isn't rational though. Love just is. How and why it happens is a mystery. When you truly fall in love with someone, it alters you. Their flaws, their problems, even all the many, many ways they would never fit on your checklist do not matter. You love them and that is the important thing. You love them, and that is the ONLY thing. It doesn't change. Even if you lose them, that love does not change. You never fall out of love with someone you truly love. You just accept that you cannot be with them anymore.

Most importantly, especially when it comes to adultery. when you truly love someone, they are enough. That doesn't mean you won't occasionally stray from them. What it means is that the straying will just be physical. You won't spend hours talking to someone else online or chatting up random people on your phone. When you really love someone, you want to spend your time with them. You focus on them because they, truly, make you happy.

With Checkmark Love though, you're probably always going to stray. How could you not? Even someone who meets 99% of what you want still isn't perfect. You're always going to be wondering if there is someone out there who is closer to your ideal. You'll always be looking and you'll always feel there is justification for that because your Checkmark Love just never really feels quite right.

I'm sure some people are shocked I would even write this. Some people might be assuming I'm being overly romantic or viewing this in simplistic terms. Perhaps I am. And if you feel that way, it's fine.

From my perspective, if you're not truly in love with the person you're with, if you're constantly looking for someone else and checking to see what else is out there, end the relationship. If you're not satisfied with the person in your life, stop torturing them and yourself. Move on. Find someone you truly love. Find someone who truly makes you happy. Stop blaming other people because they're not who you want them to be and find a person who is.

Grey Yarn

I had a stray ball of grey yarn and I've been doing my best to make it into things. So far, I have a nifty hat and a cowl. I'm working on an ear warmer right now. I'm not sure what I'll do with the rest. Perhaps a thinner cowl thing. One way or the other, this whole ball is getting used up. No more dregs of yarn sitting around if I can help it.

After I finish with that, I found a jewellery thing I need to make. Who knows how long it's been sitting in storage. It needs to be something. I'm tired of things waiting in potential. Like I wrote last night, I need to be more creative. That's where my energy should go. I'm doing my best to let go of the negative stuff and just focus on that, on culling things out of the house, and culling things out of my life if they serve no purpose.

Speaking of making things better, my roommate cut and dyed my hair today. I have cute bangs and almost black hair. Life is good.

Merit

The debacle of the Hugo Awards is, for this year, over. Puppygate did not succeed and measures will probably be taken to ensure this doesn't happen again. Is that a good thing? They won't believe it is. They'll believe it is the establishment's way of shutting them out. They'll view this as a newspaper whack to the nose and feel even more isolated than before.

Should they feel that way? It isn't for me to say. People are entitled to their own feelings and perceptions. These days, personal identity politics are shaping a lot of both. When people who used to have all the toys see those toys given to outsiders, they believe they're being shut out for the sake of the new. When the outsiders see the old guard keeping the toys, they believe they're being shut out for the sake of the old. In some cases, on both sides, it can be true.

All I know is this . . . while everyone bickers over WHO should win awards and WHO should decide where things go from here, no one is actually producing anything creative. How can you? When you fuel your energy into bickering, debating, protesting, plotting against enemies, threatening people, and causing problems, it's difficult to have anything left to actually write. Every moment you spend arguing with someone on Twitter or spiralling out about injustices caused by the other side is a moment you're not creating your worlds and telling your stories.

I can only change me, so from now on, as much as I can, I'm going to accept, in rather good faith, that the people around me are viewing me and my work based on the merits of that work. If people love it, I'm going to accept that my work is worthy of that love. If they hate it, well, I'll assume it's not to their taste and that's just a matter of personality and has nothing to do with me being a woman or the other things that people might take a disliking to.

I'm not saying everyone has to do this. I'm just saying it's my plan. I know that life is too short to be wasted on arguments. We all have things we could be creating. It's better to focus on those.

New Breathing Help

So the new CPAP is here and set up. It's far smaller than the last one and far more upgraded. Everything is digital! Which means I get a reading about my sleep when I wake up. That's kind of neat and kind of invasive all at the same time.  The best thing though is that it has a smart setting. If it doesn't sense my breathing, it shuts off. This means the cats can't turn it on and use up my water.

The water chamber on this machine is bigger and easier to open and fill. It's kind of a trick to attach it, but not too bad. it has a lip on it that keeps the water from spilling out. My last one had a smaller lip and it rarely did any good.

Overall, I spelt well last night. I think the new CPAP and I will work out well. I'm going to name her Autumn because the design has some leaves on it.

Happiness in Doing

When people talk to me about my grandmother, they often mention her beauty. She was remarkable looking, so I suppose that is understandable. They also mention three things about her that they loved, her salt pickles, her plants, and her dresses. As I've written about before, my grandmother made simple house dresses as a gift for any woman who was ill. The dresses were easy and simple to wear. They made a huge difference in the women's lives.

Many people loved her pickles. I did as well. They were the kind of pickles that could have won contests if she'd ever entered. They were so sour it was almost tough to eat them, but so worth it. My grandmother didn't even consider herself a good cook (no one did, actually), but she was a mean pickle-maker. She could also grow amazing plants. She had beautiful ferns and elephant ears. She grew all kind of flowers and until she was too ill to do so, she grew things in the garden.

She didn't make any money off of these things. I don't think she ever would have even considered doing so. After my grandmother recovered from breast cancer, I think the dresses were her way of coping with it. She didn't know how to really talk about what happened or how terrified she was, so she made the dresses to do what she could to provide women with a bit of comfort.

Her mother taught her to make the pickles and I think it was her way of honoring that. She and her mother had little in common. My great-grandmother was gentle and sunny and tended to look at the world in a positive light. My grandmother was the exact opposite of that. She couldn't honor her mother by seeing the world the way she did, but she could make the pickles and think about the time they spent together making them.

As for the plants, growing things in the yard was my grandmother's joy. In all the ways she never really seemed to relate to humans, she felt comfortable with plants. There was an understanding between her and the things she grew that always fascinated me. She knew when to replant them. She knew where they would get the best sun. She knew where they would have the most protection in the winter. They would thrive with her and she seemed to find such contentment in that.

Do I have a point here? Yes, actually. My grandmother was a deeply unhappy person. Like, basically hated everything. And yet, she found meaning and contentment, even joy, in her creative activities. She found joy in DOING things, which, as I am sure we've all noticed, is something people do less and less of these days.

I think this is another reason why personal identity politics has become so radicalized. We're less focused on producing things and more focused on consuming. Think about how often we're told if we buy this or buy that, we'll be happy. Then people buy the things and still feel empty, still feel lost.

Like I said, my grandmother was, at the best of times, prickly, but even she had these three aspects of her life where she felt completeness. I think it's a worthwhile thing for all of us to find things like that. Maybe it would help us to find The Happy again.

The Alarm

I grew up with one of those clock radio alarms that squawked at me. Yes, I could have set it for music, but I knew I would never actually wake up to that. I had no choice by to set it to the squawking. I hated that damned alarm so much.

When I finally got a phone with an alarm, I liked it pretty well. It was a series of beeps that would get more insistent the longer you let it go. Beep Beepbeep. Beepbeepbeep. It would keep adding until it was one continuous beep. It was so much better than the squawking. I usually only lasted through the first three beeps before I'd turn it off.

My new phone has a 'gentle song' as the alarm. At first I thought I would like this a lot, but I find that I don't. The alarm doesn't get much use, but when it does, the 'gentle song' kind of feels like a bunch of pixies ripped open my skull and are sweetly singing as the jab my brain with knives.

I actually dread this alarm, possibly more than any I've ever experienced. I'll try to wake myself up before it starts so I can avoid having to hear it. There is a commercial on TV that uses the first three notes as the alarm. Every time I see the commercial, I cringe. I hate this alarm that much. It isn't enough to like change it or anything. Honestly, the fact that I hate it may assist in me waking up.

On a note related to my success or lack there of when I sleep, my new CPAP came in. It's so small! I'll give more of an update after it's been used.

Ugghh

I find the whole Ashley Madison hack to be really disturbing. For those of you who don't know, Ashley Madison is a website where married people can find other married people to cheat with. The site was hacked and threatened. They said that if the site wasn't taken down, they would release everyone's information and dox all the emails.

Let's break this down. This wasn't a political site where politicians were messing with people. This wasn't a site where pedophiles were trading children. And while adultery isn't everyone's cup of tea, it isn't illegal.  The hacking of the site WAS illegal and doxing everyone was illegal. Causing this much chaos and disruption in people's lives is just as immoral as one might view cheating. Ruining people's lives and destroying their privacy over something like cheating is wrong.

When did this become what hackers do? This is petty. This is squirmy. This large scale Gladys Kravitz and nothing more than that. This is no moral crusade. This is no justifiable act. This is just a shitty, awful thing to do to people. I'm sure the people who did this are proud of themselves. Gladys Kravitz was proud of her shit too.

New CPAP

I will be getting a new CPAP on Wednesday. I've had the one I'm using right now for quite a few years and it's starting to have some issues. This doesn't surprise me. Every machine in the house eventually screws up. It's only a matter of time before this one does.

It's a little strange to think about not using my current one anymore. This machine changed my life. I used to randomly sleep all day. Honestly, there would be days when I'd walk into the living room and be asleep like 20 minutes later. And I was so sleep deprived I couldn't wake myself up. The need for sleep would be so overwhelming I honestly couldn't do anything but succumb to the sleep.

When my sleeping started to be regulated, I could sleep again. I regained my ability to function during the day. This changed so much around for me. I owe so much to that machine and I might not even be alive today without it. It's one of the many things I am very, very grateful for and one of the major perks of my life.

Better

I'm better today. Yay for meds. I'm focusing on being grateful for what I have and just trying to make plans to improve my situation. That isn't easy, especially when I'm strung out and tired, but it is possible. I just know I need to do it in my own way.

Yesterday was one of the bigger breakdowns I've had in a long while. Maybe people need to do that sometimes. Maybe it's good to let all the stuff go. Kind of like a volcano! Or a zit! Anyway, the important thing is that I'm better and I can just move forward with my life now.

Oh, and even if I do sometimes feel like I'm never good enough for anyone else, perhaps that doesn't matter because I know I'm good enough for me.

It's Never Enough

Before I get into this, I would like to state I am so very grateful for the love and support I've been given in my life. It means so much to me, it truly does. This isn't so much about anyone else as it is how I feel about myself.

I was reading this article the other day about a woman who talked about how, in high school, a boy told her she was ugly and for the next 20 years, she believed that. It's possible, even though she claims she doesn't, that she still believes it. And while it seems so small and trivial that something like that could alter not only the way you view yourself but also how you function, the sad truth is, we all know this happens. It happens to a lot of us.

For me, it's not so much about having to prove that I'm pretty. That's so far down the line of fuckery that it doesn't even register most of the time. For me, it's about proving that I have a right to be here. When I was a kid, my mother constantly reminded me that I wasn't a wanted baby. She told me how I ruined her plans and caused nothing but inconvenience for her. It set me up in this cycle of feeling like I had to fix things to prove my worth. It also set me up in a cycle of always failing at that.

So here I am, in my forties, and on the dark days, I still feel that way. I feel like the things I offer aren't enough. I feel like the things I can manage to scrape together aren't enough. I feel like there is always the cloud over me that I should DO MORE and BE MORE and that it isn't enough that I'm just me. And the thing is, I bet if the people who think I need to give more and be more knew how strung out and drained I feel most of the time, they wouldn't believe it. "Surely she's just holding out. She can really do more if she tries."

It's like how I would come to visit my grandmother and no matter what else we discussed, it would always come back to my weight or my finances or one of the many other things I was failing to do. It's like there couldn't be any time where I could just have peace. Lose weight. Get a better job. Handle money better. Be more fun. Get a better education. Fix the things. Fix the things. Fix the things.

Maybe no one sees this from my perspective. I have a lot of issues, so I need a lot of help with things. And to those people, I'm sure I come off as the demanding one. I come off as the one causing all the trouble and causing all the problems. Because, of course, I would. Because I will never be enough. I'll never be really worthy. That's how I will always be viewed and I can't change that.

If I had to do it all over again, when I met people, I would just tell them right off how I won't be able to make their lives better and I won't be able to help them with anything and I won't ever, ever, ever be part of a solution to any problem and all I will do is cause them inconvenience. That way they just could have nodded and gone on to the next person. And for those who feel I'm not giving them enough now, please, I beg you, but all means, go find someone else to make you happy because it will not be me. It will never be me. I will never be enough.

Awkward Questions

I watched a Game of Thrones panel and kind of cringed every time someone would ask a question. It seemed like even for the people who wrote their questions down, there was still a great deal of awkwardness. I suppose this is to be expected, though. It isn't like we're trained well for this kind of thing.

In the great list of Things We should All be Taught, learning how to ask questions should be up there. Asking questions is one of our most basic learning methods, and yet, so many of us suck at it. Learning how to ask the right questions, and the way to ask them is vital to communication. And yet, when most of us ask questions of others, those questions often cause more miscommunication  than serving to advance it.

I think a lot of this is rooted in our fear of rejection. When we ask a question, we are inviting the other person to participate. We are opening ourselves up to their reactions, good or bad. In a lot of ways, this is what causes much of the awkwardness. How do we move past that? We should learn confidence in asking our questions. We should accept that the answers may not come or that they may come in a way we did not wish.

This is a topic I think I'll come back to quite a few times. I have a lot of thoughts on it, but it needs more exploration than I feel I can give it in just one post. In the meantime, I invite you to think about the questions you ask and what results you gain from them. I'll be doing this as well.

Ten Year Wants

I was asked where I wanted my life to be in ten years. I'm going to take this in terms of both the practical and the ideal. And honestly, some of them are both.

• In ten  years, I want to be in a safe home. I want this home to be set up so I can age into it, no matter what that age brings, with all the things that elderly people need. Will I be elderly in ten years? No, but I'll be getting close to it. It's important to consider this for the future.
• In ten years, I want to be in my creative golden age. I want to be writing (more than just the blog) and showing people the worlds that live in my head. 
• In ten years, I want a peaceful home environment. No one can be creative if they have to be around chaotic or negative energy. 
• In ten years, I want to be more comfortable with my communication. I want to speak in inarguable ways to really convey my feelings and thoughts. In ten years, I want to know my mind and body well enough to understand what it is that I truly want and need. 
• In ten years, I want to have a better grip on my own darkness. Mind you, eliminating the chaos and negative elements in my life will help a lot in that area. 
• In ten years, I want to have made peace with all the things I still war with today. I do not want to waste my energy on things or people who truly do not matter in my life. 
• In ten years, I want to be forward with my ideas and confident in my words. I don't want to be trapped in promises or obligations I made without understanding the cost of them. 
• In ten years, I want my life to be quiet. but full of meaning. 
• In ten years, I want to not dread the seasons. 

Sleep Update

Some crazy how, it cooled down far more than it was supposed to. I actually slept somewhat okay last night. Of course, I'm exhausted now, but that's because I know I'm in a sleep deficit and will be for a while. I'll try to get more sleep tonight, but I have to be up early and then tomorrow I have a really long day. So we'll see.

Beyond that, things seem to be going pretty well. This won't be a long post, due to, as I mentioned above, early night and long day tomorrow. I'll do better posts this weekend.

Grown Up Stuff

The other day I was at McDonalds. We ordered lunch and some ice cream sundaes. This was the first time we'd been able to order ice cream from there for weeks because for some reason, the machine was broken and no one wanted to fix it. This time, we were getting our ice cream, but as we drove up to the window, I made a decision about how we would receive it.

Just as I suspected, as soon as we pulled up, the woman tried to hand me the ice cream. I asked her, politely, how long it would be on the food. She told me it would be a few minutes. I requested, again politely, if she would keep the sundaes inside until the rest of the food was ready. The temperature was in the high 90s and I don't have the best AC. She nodded like this hadn't occurred to her and did just that. When the food was ready, we were given both the meal and non-melty ice cream at once.

Why am I telling you this mundane stuff about my life? Because for me, this moment of being practical and assertive is far from mundane. Normally, I would just accept the ice cream first, full of exasperation and annoyance, then mutter curse words as I watched it melt while I waited for the rest of my meal. Why would I do this? Because I didn't want to be a bother. Seriously. I didn't want to bother people to do the practical version of their job.

I think if any aspect of me is maturing at all (the jury is still out on this) it is the part of me that will speak up about things like this. I'm less concerned with how people see me. I will be polite, of course, because I know they're just doing their job, but I certainly want to be handled in the best way possible. Besides, no one should have to suffer melty ice cream.

Saying Yes

There has been a lot of controversy lately about sexual consent. A lot of it involves alcohol and coercion issues. Some of it involves the social dynamics between the two people. Whenever you discuss consent, people often bring up a lot of 'but what if. . ?' scenarios. I don't want to get into the arguments about all of that. If you read the blog, you basically know how I see it. Instead, I want to talk about the beauty of consent itself.

There is a deep and astounding sense of joy when someone says yes to you. Knowing that this other person wants you as much as you want them is one of the more profound moments any of us will ever experience. It's probably one of the times we feel the most expanded as a person, the most alive. This person we feel desire for looked at us and said yes. All of the attraction we feel is also felt by them. The chemistry is all real and pure and completely, for a while, uncomplicated.

To me, and yes I realize this may only be TO ME, that is the meaning of sexual purity. Two people who desire each other equally. This is clean sex. It's sex without trickery or violence or hesitation. This is passion. This is choice. This is true sexual freedom. I honestly don't understand why anyone would want less than that.

The Week to Come

This isn't going to be a fun week. I have stuff happening every day and some of it is going to be long and involved hours upon hours stuff. I would feel better about the whole thing if it wasn't going to be as hot as Satan's crotch outside. Oh, and twice as humid as his crotch. Normally by August, the humidity is starting to fade a little. Not this year.

I'm guessing the rest of August is going to be one big suckfest where the weather is concerned. As nice as this summer started out, it's ending hot and nasty.

My plan for the week is to stay hydrated and try not to die.

Primrose

A year ago today, I had an appointment with my doctor to talk about my progress post-hysterectomy. She'd seemed pleased with how things were going, more pleased than I was. She didn't think my issues were all that big of a deal. It's possible she was just blowing me off, given how things turned out with her, but at the time, I thought this was a good sign.

Two really significant things happened during this appointment. The first is that I confirmed I didn't have to go to the gynecologist to get my exams done. This made me so deeply happy because I did not like that woman. The second was that we decided I would not do hormone replacement therapy because I was still at risk for breast cancer. Instead, I would take Evening Primrose to deal with my menopausal issues.

A year later, I've had to fine a new doctor because mine is no longer in the area. As I wrote about before, this has been a difficult thing for me. She's been my doctor for a long time. However, given the fact that she moved and she'd had some issues with the people who handle some stuff for me, it made more practical sense for me to change.

I'm still on the Primrose. My menopause symptoms have eased. They still show up sometimes, but no where near as violently as they used to. I'm very happy about that and still very happy I don't have to see that gynecologist any more because I still don't like her. Seriously, even a year later, I can still remember the way the relief washed through my body whan I was told I wouldn't have to do exams with her. It was that bad.

Faith versus Facts: The Charles Manson Addition

"How about my friends? Can they bring knives?"

Recently Facebook people have been sending around these memes about religious stuff. Okay, it's not a recent thing. Some people ALWAYS do this.  The worst part is that several of the people I know who post these things are friends with each other, so I get multiple copies of Doe Eyed Hippie Jesus holding his hand out to me with the caption "Share if you love me. Scroll past me if you want to burn in Hell." Or, you know, some variation of that.

Yesterday, someone posted a picture of Charles Manson with the "So I have a place in your home?" guilty-guilt caption. I paused for a moment because I KNEW it was Manson and wondered if the person who posted it knew. I'm guessing they did not because their comments were all religious and prayerful. I posted the image on my page to tell people it was Charles Manson (no one wants him in their home) and for the most part, things seemed to be fine.

I'm guessing that this started as someone's joke. And it is a good joke. I think this is one of his official early prison pics. I'm not quite sure about that. I suppose someone, for just a second, might think it was Jesus. If they squinted and had no concept of the difference between paintings and photographs? Let's face it, during Manson's time, there were a lot of guys who had the Jesus Look going on. The picture is clearly a black and white photo, though. I have no idea how anyone could mistake this for Jesus.

When I got home today, I realized I was wrong. Someone (who wasn't a close friend and has now been blocked) sent me a nasty private message saying they didn't like how smug and snide I was about this picture. They explained they were a Christian and they could see Jesus in any way they chose to see Him and I had no right to dictate that or make fun of it.

Okay?

See, to me, this is a classic example of the problem between having faith and having facts. If I have a quarter in my fist and ask you what kind of coin it is, you can believe as much as you want and as hard as you want that it's a dime, but that does not change the fact that it's still a quarter. When I open my hand and show you the quarter, I'm not oppressing you or dismissing your faith . . . I'm just showing you what the item really was. Your faith has nothing to do with it. You can't make quarters turn into dimes and you can't make Charles Manson turn into Jesus.

Jesus with the Roman Guards . . . or something.

Not Always

While I understand the good intentions of the It Gets Better campaign, I often have a problem with it. I get that the idea is to keep younger people from killing themselves during those early years of realizing they're not like everyone else. However, the basic premise of the campaign, that things will get better, is flawed. Sometimes, things do stop being bad in  the way they are currently bad. Things don't always get better, especially for people who have rough childhoods.

For things to really get better, it helps when you have a good support system, faith in yourself, and good decision-making skills. If you lack these, quite often, you stumble through life making choices based on what seems to be the least harmful path at the moment. Other times, you make decisions out of desperation, loneliness, or fear.

I think a good example of this is basically any marriage that happens when someone is trying to escape horrible parents. Usually, the people they choose to marry aren't the most practical mates, but they at least seem less awful than the parents. Is the kid away from the abusive parents? Yes. So that bad situation DID stop. But now they're having to try to pay bills and do other adult things with very little foundation as to how to that. This is not BETTER. It's just different.

The worst part about being an adult and knowing that your situation isn't better than when you were a kid is that you know it's all your doing. You made the decisions to get here. You made the choices that cause your daily miseries. You were the one who paid no attention to the bad habits. You were the one who ignored how horrible other people's personalities were. You were the one who didn't train for the practical job. You're the one who had babies or took in pets you couldn't afford. And more than likely, these decisions have put you in a position to where you're more or less stuck. No one is going to save you and more than likely, you're too tired and depressed and despondent to save yourself.

So here's my message. It does not always get better. Sometimes the hell you're going through will stop, but it doesn't mean your life will be wonderful. Sometimes your life will actually get worse. Sometimes your life will become a series of small moments of peace disrupted by interjections of the displeasure of others. Sometimes your life will be full of debt and fear and bleakness.

You're not alone in that though. Don't think you failed and that you're the only person it didn't GET BETTER for. The world is full of people who made the wrong decisions (or were left without any decisions) and are also in a position to where things are no better for them than they ever were.

So how do you cope? As I've written about before, therapy and meds help. Change what you can, if you can. Make the best of what you can, if you can. Beyond that, just remember you're not failing while things got better for everyone else.

Safe Harbors

To support some relatives, I'm on a Facebook group for chronic Lyme disease. Normally the discussions are about helping people through the condition, finding common  ground, and sharing tips with others. Most of the time, the group is great. I know it's made a big difference in a lot of people's lives.

Recently, some of the women in the group have been having problems with a guy. He was private messaging them and being creepy. It seems he found some people's home addresses and stalked the women who lived near to him. They reported it to the group and he's been removed. I'm glad they took action to end the problem.

However, I would like to point out, just in case, for some reason people didn't know, A SUPPORT GROUP IS NOT THE PLACE YOU GO TO HARRASS OTHERS!

Seriously! When people join a support group, they are doing so because they NEED HELP. They don't want dates. They don't want people hitting on them. They don't want to talk to you outside the realm of the topic for which they need support. In fact, the best way to think about other people in a support group is to remember that they are NOT. THERE. FOR. YOU!

I guess maybe that is fundamentally the hardest concept for some people to grasp. The other humans out there, even the ones who happen to be of the gender you want to have sex with, don't exist for you. They exist for themselves, to do things for themselves, to experience their own lives, fight through their own struggles, and seek their own joy. Sometimes they will let other people in, but there are places and times for that. A support group is not one of those places.

I think a good rule of thumb before you go and bother people, is to ask yourself if your comments, messages, and chatter would make you uncomfortable if someone you didn't find attractive sent them to you. And yes, it's always good to assume people don't find you attractive until they tell you otherwise, especially if those people are in a support group for an illness. Chances are, they have other things on their minds.

Tired Mondays

I'm always really tired on Mondays. I don't know why that is. Today was no exception. We paid bills and went shopping. The whole time we were out, I was completely ready to come home and nap. For the rest of the day, I was basically out of it. Even my nap wasn't all that great. Hopefully, I'll sleep really well tonight and be less tired tomorrow.

I'm in the process of trying to get my CPAP device replaced. Mine is getting old and starting to make funky noises. It's a process and it may take some time. I'm hoping I don't have to do another sleep study, but it's possible I will. And, honestly, maybe I should. A lot has changed about my body and my life since the last one. It might be good to reassess things.

Anyway, that was my Monday. I'm tired and trying to fix some stuff.

August

Well, August is here, which means we only have one month of hellaheat. I'm happy about that. The last few days haven't been horrible, but they've been far from pleasant. I'm ready for Fall. I'm ready for cooler weather and holidays. Summer holidays don't count.

This won't be a long post. I have some other stuff I need to do tonight. I did want to note that while I still have The Sads going on, it still isn't as bad as this time last year. It's bad, but not as much. Here's hoping this is a good month.

So Now that I'm 40

I slept again for the second night in a row. I may even be able to make it three. Past this, we may be headed back into hot weather for a few days, but some more storms are predicted past that, so maybe it will cool down again. If I've learned anything in my 40s, it's that sleep won't come every night, so just let that ride and get it when you can. Kind of like sex when you're younger!

We didn't have to turn on the AC again today, which is good because we got the bill in for last month and we used SO much more than last year. But like I blogged about before, there is not one damned thing I could have done about that. Learning to let go of things you can't control is another thing you really accept in your 40s. I think this has something to do with bladder issues.

So hey, in this many years, I've learned about two whole things. Impressive, isn't it? I would like to point out that ignorance is another thing you learn to accept. I used to feel so shameful about not knowing things. Now I'm accepting that there is a ton of stuff out there and I can't know all of it.

It's one of the reasons why I will tell people I don't really HAVE an opinion on certain issues because I am not well enough informed on the issue to MAKE an opinion. When I was younger, I wanted to look smart and would just spout off things. Now I'd rather BE smart and wait until I have some more of the facts. I would like to note I am not always that good at this one. Sometimes, it's easy to jump to conclusions.

Anyway, I know I'm not that far into my 40s yet. I'm sure by the end of them, assuming I'm still alive, I'll look back at 41 yr old BHB and think she was a fool. Until then though, these are the things I know.