January 1st, 2012


Have A VERY Loving and Happy 2012

I'm sleeping on-and-off. The best thing about 2012 is waking up in a cramped position since I have all four pets sleeping on my feet or where my feet should go and electronics entertaining me out of my concern both for my health and my safety - which brings me to the bad thing which is having a person who I consider a bit of an artist in lying staying in my second bedroom until Will can return, but oh man if I knew ANYBODY who could be the reason I need the room.

I _detest_ people staying out of the alleged kindness, especially when I have every reason to believe it's merely a self-serving lie. When I cry out for help it puzzles me the things people think and say and even do that adds to my concern that I'm utterly alone now. On a journey that's fairly solitude-inducing anyhow, it is much more embarrassing and frightening and so forth than people who haven't gone through similar or worse seem to be able to empathetically comprehend.

Rather than continue on like this I would rather no Tom; so I won't have help in an emergency but then his freak out last night completely let me down. Yes, he did beg (I'm not exaggerating) for me to let him stay and he gave me the shot after effectively forcing me to do every single step as I was shaking and retching with myoclonus shakes up to putting the filled needle in his hands. Then I had to clean up the needle for him immediately following the shot. Only then could I lay back down.

Once he comes in to ask I'm telling him I still want him to go ASAP since I would rather continue to the brink of disaster by myself than have him stay any longer. He is another psycho. I don't know if it's my sickness or what, but I'm having a much more difficult time figuring out who is a good con-artist and who is genuine. Definitely made a mistake. I should count myself lucky that each of them only fooled me for a short time so their damage has been real, but (knock on wood) minimal enough that I can rebound after a few weeks at the longest.

Besides Tom's behavior, the worst for me about this holiday season has been the recognition that Shawn has cut me out of his life do completely that if he didn't pay the alimony I would believe he considers me not only no longer in his life even as a friend, but as a dead person no longer to enter his thoughts.

Yes, I know. It's been a while since he left. But I love(d) him and his cutting me so completely out hurts me during this season because it throws into sharp relief all the worst aspects of his behavior toward me, especially the beginning and end of our relationship. Erica has said she thinks he devolved mentally and emotionally back to his teenage years. And I can't argue that point with real belief for the opposing view.

Here comes my yogurt and pill. I've a lot to consider...look at the happy pets, they're much more wonderful to focus on...2012 - if only the 2012 apocalypse types have - even by accident - picked the correct year. It may suck but world destruction (as Lydon and Bambaata sang in the late 80s) is coming. At some very far off point probably. Let SoCal fall off and NorCal and the South East fall in and water cover the North East - and I'm only talking about he USA. According to the believers in apocalyptic ends the whole world will have such things plus the tidal waves and so on.

Start on cute and fluffy loving pets and switch to apocalypses. I'm drained and thoroughly. Have a wonderful and safe and loving 2012 and beyond. And if you can? Help? :-/ (Sigh)


This is what some would consider bad...

Walking the dog around the block after going into the storage space to get my other walker. One for the car and one for walking around the neighborhood. Worse than trying to wrangle a bike.

Anyway, the photo speaks for my condition. (I still have my sense of humor, after writing that sentence "Tradition! Tradition!" from "Fiddler On The Roof" echoed perfectly). This is me after much cold water and the washcloth is now warm enough to use for heating things.

Actually the photos just look like I'm fat and I'm flushed and maybe my hair is thinning (it's not, it's just plastered to my scalp by sweat, which is actually an even less attractive thought image).

Which reminds me, I discovered "Portlandia" last night and it's on Netflix streaming so if you do watch it definitely start at the beginning because even though it's sort of a sketch comedy type thing, it's a lot like the "Kids In The Hall" "Touch Paul Bellini" or however he spells his name. It's not necessary that you know he was the only other writer on the show, and the only one who didn't perform unless he was ... well, silent and naked but for a lone white towel held up by one hand on one side most of the time.

My heart has stopped doing a weird skip and hop thing and the retching seems to have abated. Dogs aren't going around the block again today. The front lawn will have to suffice. Three hours of sleep after my body already wanted to collapse isn't helping either.

Sigh. On the plus side I've a TON of things to play with or create with or even just read or watch. Yay for media! I've even got my Tascam DR-08 to sing to if I get in the mood to sing. I miss playing with people. Maybe I should take a page from Kurt's book and croon quietly into it and see what comes. Of course all this is later - you know, after my body stops considering painful attacks the best way to communicate with my mind.