Memorial Day

Today I went with family to the Paul Cemetery for the annual Memorial Day pilgrimage.  My grandma, her sisters, and their daughters organize and bring all the flowers.  We visit every grave and place the lovely chrysanthemums in a variety of colors on and around the head stones.  The older generations (three were represented) talk about the people we visit.  It's a great family history lesson.  We visit many people - most of whom I'd never met.  But I like hearing about them and their stories.  It creates a connection, a shared history.  I like this bond.

Staying here at my parents' house these last two months has been wonderful.  I'm spending a lot of time just talking and hanging out.  I really had no idea how much I missed this!  So I may be waiting endlessly to hear about benefits or Plan B, finding some kind of job I can do, but in the meantime I'm doing something important - reconnecting with the people I love most.  I'm so completely grateful.

PS We got talking about what we want when we die.  My mom wants to be cremated, but still wants a head stone so we will put flowers on it.  For the record, I want to be cremated and scattered in the Pacific Ocean.  I wanted my ashes placed in a coffee can ala Donny on The Big Lebowski, but my sister nearly cried and asked if they could use a piece of her pottery.  So yeah, do that.

Drugs

I'm a big fan of drugs.  A self-medicator by habit, I've trusted in everything from regular old aspirin to "drug store heroin".  Some of my blind faith has led to poor outcomes, but generally things are better due to drugs. 

The last few weeks have brought so many headaches and migraines.  I've tried to identify triggers to no avail.  "Guitar Hero" is a major trigger, but my brother has mercifully spared me that lately.  I've been trying really hard to figure out why this is so bad right now.  When I used to have health insurance I was on a medication that helped prevent migraines and it worked really well.  In the absence of health insurance, I can't afford this drug.

Today at the store I was walking through the isles and noticed a section of allergy medications.  My mom told me I had allergies as a little one and I've experienced them generally my whole life.  I ran out of Zyrtec a month ago and thought I'd be fine if I didn't fill it.  Long story short, I picked some up today because allergies are typically a headache trigger for me.

And... duh.

Also, life is generally better when I take my antidepressant regularly. 

And... another duh.

My conclusion is that it seems no matter what I think I "know" I can always use another lesson.  Some day I will get it.  Until then, more lessons.

Unlullabye

In the country there isn't the light pollution of even small cities and you can see the infinity of stars from your bedroom window.  I'm trying to get to sleep because I've had a wicked migraine all stinking day and I've taken a lot of Imitrex.  I'm tired.  But if I try to sleep before I'm completely exhausted I tend to spend the last few moments of awake thinking deep, philosophical thoughts on Life.  That typically ends poorly.

One should not contemplate deep, philosophical thoughts on Life when in any stage of tiredness.  For example, I have a general rule of thinking only superficially in the morning until I've adjusted to awake and am less inclined to depress myself before coffee.  Then again, I'm not a morning person.

I am simultaneously grateful for the last few years of hardship and am in complete confusion as to how my life could have led me here.  Disbelief really.  I don't remember what it's like to not feel pain all the time.   And I know I've said this before, but I really, really miss being married.  It was fun.  I always had someone to make sarcastic comments toward the TV with, someone to talk to in bed in the wee hours.  There was someone to discuss the dogs with like they were children.  Sometimes the hole left behind seems like a gaping chasm.

But that's mostly at night, when I'm trying to fall asleep.  My unlullabye.

Lost series finale party

Yesterday was the series finale of Lost.  My mom and I prepared a series finale party in honor of the occasion.  We decorated and made a "Dharma drop" for dinner.  It was Hawaiin haystacks, tropical fruit salad, tropical fruit drink, and a special "Dharma Fatboy" for dessert.  It was fun.

As for the actual time spent watching Lost, we watched the two hour special leading up to the episode and then watched the episode. Not far from the end the satellite failed and we got to only listen to part of it. Then the picture came back on for the end, thank goodness. I didn't expect the ending, but I really liked it. And honestly I am glad it's over.

Invictus

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll.
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

William Ernest Henley


Tonight we watched the movie Invictus. If you are unfamiliar it's the story of Nelson Mandela and South Africa's World Cup winning rugby team, the Springboks. Mandela is an inspiring figure. As Matt Damon's character points out, here is a man who spent nearly 30 years wrongfully imprisoned who came out a leader ready to forgive. The above poem is one he loves and where the movie gets its title.

So I got thinking.

I've winced. I've cried aloud. I've bemoaned and generally bitched about chance's "bludgeonings". But I am deeply grateful for "my unconquerable soul".

This week has brought a challenge with some fully bat-shit-insane neighbors. I've wanted to go over there and raise some hell! But all week I've told myself, "Okay, so you say you believe in nonviolence and the yogic principle of nonharming. So do you just say that's what you believe or do you live what you believe?" I've been trying. But some days it's all I can do to keep myself from going next door and pressing my bare butt cheeks against their sliding glass door.

I've heard you store different emotions in different places in your body. You store anger in your lower back. Thus, it is important for me to not hold on to anger, for all of us really. Nelson Mandela has inspired me. If he can forgive losing 30 years of his life, I can easily forgive a couple of crazies.

I am captain of my soul.

Let's Dance!

Yesterday my mom brought home a new game for her Wii called "Just Dance". I'd spent the day walking with the dogs and cooking (standing on feet for a few hours) and couldn't play it. But this morning I couldn't resist. It just looked so fun!

And it was so fun! You pick different songs and follow the movements of the dancer on the screen. Some are really hard. If I rein myself in and only use my upper body, I do okay. My mom really gets into it and moves her whole body and I can't wait until I get to do that.

Just doing the arm part is so great. It was really a good upper body workout! My muscles were tired after the first song, but it felt so, so good! Working my muscles is like quenching a deep thirst, infinitely satisfying.

You should try it. This game rocks!

Limbo (not the dance)

As you know, I have been in benefits limbo for some time now. Technically years, but more seriously about five months. Last week I received in the mail a letter from the court.

Remember back in February I was contacted by the company representing me and told to go see this psych doc for mental evaluation? The court had ordered the eval, but I never received anything from the court about it. I went to hours of IQ and brain damage tests, etc. Well, the letter was a statement from the court telling me to attend that evaluation. That's how long it took for me to receive that correspondence. There were several of those yellow "forward to" stickers on the envelope it came in.

I called the company and updated my address and asked them to make sure the court had it. They said they'd take care of it and also told me they'd followed up with the court three weeks ago and the decision was still pending. They will be doing it again at the end of this month.

I just want to know. If it's yes, then great. What a blessing. If it's no, then at least I can try to find some kind of job I can do. Limbo sucks and I can't wait to move on!

Strikes and gutters

"Ah, you know, strikes and gutters, ups and downs." - The Big Lebowski

A reflection on the past week: there was finally sunshine. Then I had things I wanted to do. One day in particular I spent some quality time outside, even getting a bit of sun on my cheeks. It was glorious! I cannot tell you how great it feels to accomplish things you really want to do, but have a hard time doing because of pain. They may seem like small things, but in reality they are huge!

Inevitably I paid for my bliss. I maintain it was worth it. Even if the payback was mean and nagging.

I had a dream a few nights ago I was running a marathon. It was the end of the race and I was done. I'd hit "The Wall" miles before. It was so rainy and muddy in the final stretch that I had to take off my shoes so I could lift my feet off the ground. There was a mile left and with everything I had I sped up and finished strong. I felt that deep ache you get in your joints from running a long distance. I felt my lungs fill with air as I sprinted to the end. It felt so real.

I'm not sure what all of these events mean, added together. Maybe nothing. Or maybe it is a metaphor for life. Strikes and gutters, man.

Broken Record

I haven't posted in awhile. One reason is that I've been trying to channel all of my writing to my book. The second reason is because I feel like a broken record. Here's what I have to say (and what I say over and over again):

The pain is pretty bad. I've been having a hard time sleeping; every time I fall asleep it seems I am woken up immediately by pain. And even anti-depressants can't combat the depression that comes from enduring this day after day with no end in sight.

I can't think about tomorrow or the next day. I can only think about now. Perhaps the lesson of living in the now is a good one to learn.

Home

I've been thinking about this subject for awhile now. Then I watched an episode of "Glee" and the music seemed to fuel the mental fire. Ever since losing the house on Maplewood (two or more years ago?) I've considered the concept of home. This house was my home. I loved it from the first moment I saw the front door and asked the realtor if I could have it. His reply: would you like to go inside first?



Then there was the house on Lupin. I didn't like it at first. But then I came to think of it as home. I wanted to stay there. That fell apart when I lost my benefits.



Next was the Van Buren house in Eugene. It's a great house and I tried like hell to make it my home. If home is where the heart is, I guess they both broke up next.



I moved to my own apartment. I tried to make it a home and I technically thought about "going home" as returning to it.



Then there was the apartment my brother and I shared that I fondly refer to as a "shithole". Pretty much hated that place. Thus, no picture.

Now I am here, in Heyburn. I am very comfortable and I love that I can see my family all the time. But I miss my homes from the past. I think I just miss the feeling those places gave me. Not sure I'm explaining this adequately.



If you click the title of this post you will get to hear a song I have come to love, "A House is Not a Home". There is the line, "I'm not meant to live alone, turn this house into a home." And I don't exactly agree with that, especially since I really enjoy living alone. But I can't help but wonder if I will be able to turn a house into a home.

Salon day

Monday was a great day. My mom, gram, and I went to two salons. We first went to my Aunt Kathy's where my gram got a cut and perm and my mom and I got waxed. Then we went to my SIL Tylynn's school where my mom and I each got a cut and color. We had a bite to eat and came home that evening. It was like an eight hour beautification marathon. Wow, have I been paying for it since. But worth it.