Playing Catch-Up

 

 

Mister and I are movie lovers. We do our best to keep up with new releases, as well as older movies we’ve missed. Ordinarily, it isn’t a chore but a pleasure. Come awards season, however, it’s a different story.

 

In the last couple of weeks, we’ve seen 5 movies (“Spy”, “The Big Short”, “Mad Max: Fury Road”, “Star Wars: The Force Awakens” and “Trainwreck”). We’re trying to catch up, but it feels like a losing battle. Of course, once the OSCAR Best Picture nominees are announced, some of our must-see list will be dictated to us, but until then, we’ve still got a mile-long list of films we want to see. I may need to get some of those “A Clockwork Orange” eye-openers, just to keep myself going. Dag.

 

(And – though I am complaining, I am also grateful. Do you know how cool it is to get to see loads of movies? It’s awesome, is what. And I love it.)

Rainbows and Unicorns

 

 

I often write here about life’s positive moments. Sometimes I write about wanting life to be positive, about wanting to be positive myself. I do this because I truly aspire to living a life of joy. I honestly want to dwell in the hopeful. In bliss. In rainbows and unicorns.

 

But just because I write in this fashion, it does not mean my life is without its challenging moments of upheaval or disappointment. I break down and I muddle through more often than you can imagine. Sometimes those spells are short. Other times they linger like odors from a fish-fry. I don’t enjoy those times, and because I live with someone, it isn’t much fun for him, either. In fact, I think my downward spirals are downright befuddling to Mister. During those spells, he has said that he doesn’t get it – that I write about sunshine and roses and yet when life pulls me to my knees, I in no way resemble what I share in these missives. And he’s right.

 

For several months now I’ve been battling health issues. This isn’t a secret, as I’ve written of my challenges many times. What I haven’t always shared is how incredibly depressing this battle can be. I haven’t told you about the moments when I sit alone and cry, wondering if my fine-fettle days are behind me. Worrying that my health will continue to decline, as my body just doesn’t seem to be returning to familiar function. I’m no spring chicken, I admit. But I’m not so old as to treat this as any sort of “norm.” And even though I understand intellectually that my brain isn’t getting its full quota of nutrients and minerals necessary for good mental health, I am not always able to layer that intellectual understanding over my depressed feelings. Those are the times that get me. Those are the times that rattle the fault-lines of my confidence bedrock.

 

Maybe my genetic code is just not as well-written as I’d thought. Maybe my good health indicators, while fantastic for so long, have served their time and are now ready to retire. I don’t know. And though I understand a bit about physical function and health, it doesn’t mean I’m able to wave a magic wand over myself and fix me. God knows I’d like to, but that isn’t one of my gifts.

 

So yesterday, when I had a bit of a set-back on the health front, it got me down. Yes – I’ve experienced improvement since seeing the healer. But I’ve not experienced improvement upon the improvement. Capisce? I guess I’m so frustrated that I needed to lose it. And so I did.

 

Today I see the healer again, and I’ll relay all this information to her, as her approach is comprehensive and she’s quite caring. I’m also trying to picture my friend, Jolene. I saw her not too long ago and she told me about going through a particularly challenging health crisis that had her on the most limited diet imaginable for 6 solid months (not to mention meds and other means to a healthy end). I’ve only been following my limited diet (not nearly as harsh as Jolene’s) for a couple of weeks. I keep telling myself that if Jolene could handle her time, I can handle mine. And I keep forcing out thoughts that tell me Jolene may simply be stronger than I. That ain’t easy either, as those thoughts are loud and persistent.

 

Please forgive me for whining. This is not my journal. It is a blog. I know this. And though I seek to write honestly in these missives, I do not aim to complain incessantly. Some days I’m just a little more fallible than others. I hope you understand.

Deep Breaths

 

 

There’s a lot going on right now in my little world. First and foremost – my health issues. I’ve not fully recovered from whatever the heck it is that’s plaguing me, but I do feel the recent holistic methods are having an effect. The crazy stuff I’m doing seems to be moving the chains, so I guess I shouldn’t really complain. (As I’ve been unwell for several months now, I am well-acquainted with complaining.) Now the bills are hitting. I am grateful to have insurance, but this stuff still ain’t free. Oh, well. Bills will just have to get paid somehow.

 

And then there’s the stress of fighting city hall. As I said yesterday, I’ll share more about what’s going on with that at a later date. Right now, there’s quite a bit of work to be done on that front. So we and our neighbors have much to do. As the whole swirly mess revolves around our homes and our neighborhood, it’s personal. And emotional.

 

So how does a gal get through these things and vault over the stumbling blocks life throws at her? She deals. I deal. To the best of my ability anyway. A lot of the time I don’t fare so well. I disappoint myself (and probably those around me) in my absolute failure to rise to the occasion. My emotions get the best of me, then proceed to twist my best into unseemly behavior. Don’t believe me? Over the weekend we and our neighbors met with a representative of the very project we’re opposing. Before I knew what was going on, I had said – out loud – something about putting lipstick on a pig. After comments were made by the project rep, I may have gone on to say something about how a different shade of lipstick on said pig is still a painted pig. Oopsie. Now y’all – I did at least have the good sense to recognize I was losing it, so I forced myself to take a step back and did my best to shut my pie-hole. In that moment, it was the right choice.

 

Speaking of pie-holes – have I told you part of my healing process involves giving up sugar? I’m not a crazy-for-sweets person, so it isn’t the most difficult sacrifice I’ve ever made. Still – a little sugar now and then goes a long way.

 

Anyhoo – life continues. The layers of stress are, well, they are what they are. I’m doing my best to abide. More than once I’ve thought of the quote about knowing God won’t give one more than she can handle – and wishing God didn’t trust her so much. I don’t feel quite like that. But sometimes I do think the universe leaves me to my own devices a little more often than is wise. And speaking from my side of that experience, I would gladly accept more help. As I don’t exactly know what that help might look like, I guess I just have to keep my eyes open and pay attention. I mean – assistance could present itself in any form, any minute now.

 

Any minute now…