Furious Rage

Because only anger makes the tears stop.

Why is this the third person to question me on this?

"Hi, want to come to a free party and have free food and do stuff that's free and not pay a penny because it's free?"

"Could it, instead,  cost money and time and be somewhere else and maybe could you not be there?"

That's this conversation.

I'm so done.

Why do people suck so much?

Kick Me Sign Must be in Place

I'm an evil,  selfish bitch who mostly just thinks about her own survival.

I shouldn't have come home.

I shouldn't have looked at Facebook (which no longer works on my phone,  btw, so computer only).

I shouldn't have read the message.

And maybe I shouldn't have flipped out at the answer.

But whatever.

I don't care anymore.

Kick me out. It'd be a favor at this point.

I'm done with getting attacked. I already feel inferior to my former self because of this breathing disorder. I don't need it pointed out. I don't need it shoved in my face.

And,  for once, I wasn't even inconveniencing anyone!  I'm paying hundreds of dollars TO AVOID inconveniencing these people. I just said I needed one more week.

Fuck.

Just.

Fuck.

Do people even care when they're being hurtful?

"So,  this paraplegic thing... Could you just walk for one day,  like,  up the steps of the Philly Art Museum?  I mean,  your limbs, if you suck it up,  you could walk,  right?"

That's what it feels like the conversation was. Except it's my lungs instead of limbs,  and breathing instead of walking.

It's mean.
It's hurtful.

And it's worth none of these tears.

I don't think I can Facebook for a while. I just can't take it anymore. There's a level of cruel and it's just been passed by someone who was once a friend and family.

I'm just done right now. I don't have the strength for this fight. I'm upset and I'm done.

Dried Flowers

These dried flowers now hang above my desk,  reminding me of my loving friends. This makes me happy.

Why

Imagine if you came home and found a naked man, a stranger, had broken into your home and was rubbing his body,  especially his feet, all over your stuff. Particularly, his unwashed feet touched as much of your food as he could find. And he wants to touch you, too. He'd get anywhere he could reach. (Assume he's revolting.) Then he starts taking some of your food, and calls all of his friends to help him rob you.
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And that's why I hate ants.

Before I Turn Older Still

Check out @niicki's Tweet: https://twitter.com/niicki/status/735768057402908672?s=09

Where am I going?
That was once so clear.
I knew,  back when I was 17 and graduating high school/ a Freshman in college,  exactly where I was going and what I needed to do to get there.
Except I didn't, really. I had some big ideas. But at least I had ideas and drive. And certainty!  If you had asked me what I'd do if the plans didn't work out, I'd have looked at you like you were unintelligent and replied,  with careful enunciation, that I'd figure it out.

I always had, you see. So much had been tossed at me by then that I felt prepared for anything.

So the world tested me. It threw more. A lot more. All at once. It took chunks of my body, mind, soul, spirit, sexuality, bravery,  strength, health... everything.

I dealt with it the best way I could. I made new plans to keep up.

Then it hit harder. So I fought harder.

Then the most awful thing that can ever happen,  happened. My light went out with that blow.

No more sun in the sky.

I live by a match. And it frequently burns out. So I search for another match, and something to strike it upon. I dare not light a torch or a camp fire,  for surely the signal would be easy to spot in the darkness, and I'd be crushed again.

Except the match is not enough to live by.

And this metaphor is over done.

I had goals I'd accomplish before I turned 35.

A nice list. A long list. A doable list.
I did one.
Well, one that lasted.
There are some that cannot just be moved to "by the time I'm 40."
I could picture my future before. Now I can't.
I can't even imagine what my life will be like in a month from now.
Right at this moment, I don't even have certainty of my life in two weeks from now.
Not my address, nor the well being of my family, or my financial place, or even what my health condition will be by then.

I really don't know where I'm going. I'm not even sure where I am.

Do I at least know what I might like to happen?
1- Sell a certain property to 2 close people.
1a. Be assured of their safety and well being as best as I can be.
1b. Have the necessary funds to relocate my husband and myself and aquire new furniture (so as to prevent the migration of mold as much as possible) and have proper cooling so as to facilitate my survival.
2- Get better.
2a. More than just stable.
2b. Not just "not worse."
2c. At least have some moments of less pain.
2c-1. LESS pain,  not just days where it isn't worse, but days where it isn't as bad. Days at a 4 on the pain scale. Not my normal 7.

I want to add writing goals. I feel obligated to add wedding related goals,  as a Matron of Honor. Friendship goals? Cooking, cleaning,  household goals? Maybe weight loss or strength increase goals? Motherhood goals? Aunt goals? Reading goals?

I don't know. The stretch of the first two seems so out of reach. I should endeavor to find Atlantis,  as the odds are more in my favor.

Do I dare set a goal just to have hope?
Goal: Have Hope.
Ahh, but hope leads me to trouble. It pulls at that inner girl I once was,  the one who believed, the one who the world had not broken yet. The one who would have found a way to light a fire as bright as the sun. Or something. I don't know.

That 17 year old me would be pleased with the husband and friends.
But she'd find a way to overhaul the rest of this,  because it'd sicken her to look at this life.

There must be a way to fix this. There must be a path I could take to get back on track.

Maybe if I knew the track, that'd help.

I play Civilization V more often,  and usually on an easier level. Why? So I can win. I'm not there for the challenge. I just need a win. A small victory. It means nothing in the grand scheme of things. It's a game. But sometimes,  surrounded by so much failure, I just need to do something right. It's not so much a fear of failure- that'd be silly, at this point, because it happens all the damn time- but a desperate need to win. To recall what it feels like so I can go on to something else and hope for the same elation.

Is it reasonable to expect my two current goals before I turn 40? I don't know.

Should I aim lower? I don't see how I can.
How about one? The first.
Yes. Just the first set. 1, 1a, 1b.
Though I am, with my whole heart and mind,  convinced that moving from this place will lead to the second.
But I shall move but once more, by choice, in this life. If I move again after that,  be assured it is because the ocean is about to consume the state, or aliens have abducted us all, or the new overlords have commanded it after conquering the nation. This is how passionately I hate moving. "Why don't you just move," is the equivalent of "why don't you just cut out some of your own organs and Frankenstein yourself back together?" It might not all fit, you might not find some of it, the infection from that could be worse than what was wrong... No. Once more, and that is it.

Ideally, I'd move in a cool October. I'd like to be party to the moving, not just cowering in the cool air.

Not that I can look at houses in the summer. Who would pay to cool it?
So shopping in the autumn, moving in the winter. But before Thanksgiving. Certainly before Dec 31, when the lease expires.

I said that last year.
And the year before that.
And the one before that,  as well.

And I'm done now.

Is it depression? The thing is, as I understand it,  depression is the result of chemicals being off balance. I don't know that I can attribute my feelings to that. Would I be happier if I were in my new home, and my 2 people were in their home and no longer suffering the imminent danger they face now? Yes. I've wanted that since... Honestly, since I was 13. Really, when I think on it, I worked toward that goal since then. Originally my plan was to make enough money by the time I was 23 to afford both.

I could have sold the property shortly after I got it. The bank would have been obligated to buy it. But that didn't meet my goal of getting a home for my 2 people, pulling them out of the situation they landed themselves in. (So I'm helping them land in $167,000 of debt, when one is in poor health and the other is about to turn 62. They'll have their dream, but get the cost of a nightmare. Shit. Nope, not thinking on that.)

How can I make the best of today?
Reading and writing for a bit.

How can I make the best of the next 7 days?
I don't know. Next week holds challenges that I've yet to figure out how to face.

Goal:
To believe that one day it'll be okay again. That I'll be able to be happy without sounding like a loon. (Because, I'm sorry, but it's pretty damn bad right now, so anyone who's happy in the face of a health crisis, financial ruin, family dilemmas, and safety concerns probably just doesn't understand what's going on.)

Precipice

Definition of precipice: http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/precipice at Dictionary.com

I so rarely have occasion to use this word. But here I am,  on the precipice of change.

The morning will bring a decision that will  either spiral my entire life drastically down hill,  or nothing will change at all.

That's it.

One or the other is coming.

And there's nothing I can do about it.

No influence over my own life. No choice or action I can reasonably take to influence the decision.

The night sky

Driving tonight, I saw the moon hanging low in the southern sky looking especially rust-colored.
I managed to get a decent pic with my phone.
Yes, the moon, not Mars.

Though, I did open my skymap app and found Mars and Saturn in the sky. Two little dots.