Rant

 

Came to work this morning to find someone had taken the Coke I left in the fridge, so I had to drink the less-cold one I brought with me. I usually keep one in the fridge and swap it out with one I bring in, so I can always drink the colder one. But apparently I’m not deserving of enough respect for someone else to NOT take my stuff, so yeah.

Always good to know where I stand.

It has actually never occurred to me to take something from a common area that I didn’t put there. If it’s offered to me, that’s different. If I ask for it, also different. But otherwise, if I didn’t put it there, it’s obviously not mine, so I don’t take it. That’s the second time this week that’s happened – and keep in mind, today is Wednesday – but the first time there was a can of Coke in a different part of the fridge, so I figured whoever it was just got confused. Turns out there’s no confusion, just a complete lack of respect for other people’s things.

So now I have officially learned my lesson. I’ll just drink the less-cold Coke from now on. I guess I should have learned from last time, when the can even had my NAME on it and someone took it, but that person later replaced it for me, at least. This time my name wasn’t on it, so apparently that makes it fair game. Even though no one else puts their names on things, either. Apparently when it’s my stuff, it doesn’t matter if I label it as mine or not. I don’t get to be treated the same as the rest of them, regardless.

Anyway.

Seeing my therapist tonight. Which is good, though I am having trouble focusing on what I actually need to talk about. I’m distracted by an inclination towards complaining and whining and rage.

I’ve made a few notes to remind me and hopefully help me focus better once I’m in the room.

My goal is to become less needy so that I don’t feel like I have to talk to my friends at all, or at least not about anything important. Things I could and should be dealing with myself. If I can keep friendly conversation more surface level without getting frustrated and upset every time we hang out, I’ll be better able to listen when they talk, and therefore become a more valuable friend.

Right now, when I accidentally speak about myself and things that are on my mind, I feel like I am interrupting; like I’m an irritant. And if alcohol is involved, I can’t seem to stop myself once I get going.

Ironically, I don’t drink prior to therapy, even though it apparently makes it easier to get things off my chest. I think the value of doing so is greater when I can manage it sober, though, so there’s that.

So yeah. I have to learn to speak less and listen more, or I’ll continue to lose the ones who mean the most to me.

And I’m not sure just how much more of that I can take.

Now for a few more moon shots, this time from last night:

 

And, of course, Hudson the polar bear I love:

hudson-and-sticks

Ketchup – Another Irrelevant Post

This is just going to be short and directionless, because I am busy today, but I don’t trust myself to write later. I’d rather write quickly now than not at all later.

So let’s see…what is on my mind today?

Got a call from my neurologist’s office earlier. I have to go get the round of bloodwork I had done last weekend RE-done in about 2 weeks. I guess he didn’t like something he saw and wants a second look. It’s funny, because my doctor mentioned it yesterday, that something about the last tests were elevated, but in my sleepy brain I thought she was talking about the ones from a couple of months ago, as I didn’t think she’d have the results of the most recent ones yet. I said my neuro had mentioned it but that he’d said it hadn’t been high enough for concern. Turns out he just hadn’t mentioned it YET! Haha

I’m still not concerned, though. I suspect all the rampant drinking I did at the beginning of March, while primarily just trying to get through the difficult memories that are now forever associated with that time of year, perhaps took a bit of a temporary toll on my liver enzyme levels. I’ve cut back down to almost nothing again, though, so I’m sure by the time the tests are re-done, everything will be back to within normal ranges. It’s happened before, and I guarantee it will happen again. The good thing is having a medical system that allows my team of doctors to monitor everything as often or rarely as they need to, and double-check when they aren’t sure.

I remember even going in for…something…I think one of the heart-rate tests I had to do when I was going on a new medication? Anyway, they took my blood pressure when I got there, but it was so absurdly high that the woman decided to do it again after the main test was done, at which time it was back to normal. Sometimes these things are all about timing.

I imagine the results from all the other tests my doc did yesterday will be back soon, too. I’m not concerned about any of those, though. They’re just the standard things people get checked out occasionally. It’ll be good for her to have a baseline medical history that’s not related specifically to MS testing, though. The last time I had any of that other stuff done was 2008, which was long before I had to find a new family doctor!

She didn’t check my weight, though, which is too bad, because I’ve totally lost some, and if I continue to lose, it would have looked even better next time! Ah well.

What else? I felted and attached a head to my blue snowman last night. I didn’t have much time but that’s still a good step to get completed. Now I can either work on details (like a face) or try making different shapes all together. Will see what kind of mood I’m in later.

I am much more about welfare instead of rights, especially where non-human animals are concerned. It just makes sense.

I’m bummed at the prospect of yet another winter storm, and will just hope we don’t end up with much more snow. I hate having to get Brody and I all bundled up just so we can go outside for a few minutes, and then have to get boots off and puppy feet dry as soon as we get back in the door again. It’s annoying and time consuming.

I also hate when I feel like I have to pee, but can’t seem to make it happen.

And I hate that I had raw veggies and hummus earlier but am still craving potato chips right now. Jason Isaacs mentioned that he loved that Canada has ketchup-flavoured chips. Which – I don’t really get how it’s that novel an idea. How many people have ketchup with their french fries? Potatoes and ketchup are good together, non-Canadian people! It’s at least not a wacky idea!

That being said, though, I hope he snagged a bag of Ketchup Doritos while he was here, because holy hell – SO GOOD!!!

Now I really want chips.

Damn.

Crutches

I didn’t drink at all last night.

Well, water, but no alcohol.  And while there have been a handful of similar nights in the past couple of years, since my close friend died, it’s been pretty rare.  Since that day, alcohol has been my nightly companion.

I’d cut way down, too, for quite awhile.  Alcohol doesn’t go well with my MS meds, because both can be hard on the liver, but I’m not a fan of giving up things I love forever and completely, so cutting back was as far as I ever intended to take it.  But then the world changed, and suddenly I was back to an every night beverage again.

I feel like my grieving has changed – it’s become a part of me, instead of something I was doing.  I didn’t go through it so much as absorb it, I think.  I don’t feel like alcohol is as big a part of that process anymore, but instead it’s taken on a different role.  Grief has taken up residence inside me, so now other things – anger, frustration, sadness, fear – my method of handling any of it usually involves taking the edge off with a drink or two.  It’s become a part of me, too.

There’s always been something.  Some kind of crutch.  Nail-biting, gum-chewing, smoking – pretty much all suggestive of oral fixation, really.  Smoking was the hardest to quit.  I loved it. LOVED it.  I’d smoke before getting up in the morning, while walking down the street, watching TV, multiple breaks at work, after every meal, and before bed.  I had zero interest in existing without a cigarette in my hand.  Kicking nicotine was hard.  Kicking the habit was harder. Getting past the idea that I needed a crutch – some kind of barrier between myself and the world – is something I still struggle with.  Struggle and mostly fail, of course.  Especially given that I’m writing this as I polish off tonight’s beverage number two.

But it’s my shield.  Not having it sometimes takes a bit of effort, depending on the day I’ve had, but for the most part, I’m content with knowing I can survive not having it, and that whether I have it or not is my choice.  Maybe that’s denial, but I’m actually pretty impressed with my willpower, and I don’t often feel the need to prove myself to anyone but me.  I hate feeling judged, but at the same time, I recognize that the feeling comes from me.  If someone wants to judge me, that’s their problem.  If the feeling affects me, then the problem is mine.  And I am my own harshest critic, after all.

So, while the way my coping mechanisms manifest has changed over the years – and will continue to – the fact remains that I always have one.  And I am okay with that.  I can recognize it for what it is, realize that I don’t need it, but accept that I like it and choose it.  And when it no longer works for me, I know I can let it go – maybe for awhile, maybe forever – and that I’ll still be okay, even if I don’t pick up another crutch right away.

But I probably will.