And She Was……

There is a well known fact in this household, rarely spoken of, but my heart beats for him continuously, and he has earned my adoration.  David Byrne, MARRY ME.  🙂  I had the pure privilege of seeing the Talking Heads at Emerald City in Philadelphia, circa 1980.  Front row.  The rolling melodies and heart thumping bass can still be heard in my head, and I am dead serious when I say that the female guitarist made a pass at me.  Ah, the good old days when rock was rock and  a spade a spade.

I had a horrible nightmare last night.  Or I should say this morning-Dwain had decided to go to work, despite the blizzard conditions-he wasn’t answering my calls, he was nowhere to be found.  I awoke in a cold sweat, extremely anxious and confused.  Moments later, while sipping hot coffee, I phoned my husband and my nerves were calmed just by the sound of his voice.  Strange way to start the day…….

As I walked down to the garage, to feed the feline community, I felt it-or, perhaps didn’t feel it is a better way to say this.  No pain.  During Lyme flares, my feet are constantly in pain.  Bone pain, muscle pain-I don’t let it slow me down, but the mere fact that I was pain free was reason enough to look up at the sky and praise Him.  My lymph node has diminished, and there is even a noticeable lift in my loafers.  Oh, how beautiful life is.  And here’s the thang-none of us are promised more than this day.  We have a choice-to be positive among the chaos and confusion, carpe diem,  or, as I did yesterday-we can pout, stomp our feet and be a miserable pain in the ass in general, bringing everyone around us on edge, walking upon proverbial eggshells.

I fail Him each and every day, by thought and deed.  I repent, ask for forgiveness, and concentrate on my future-with my main man, golden retriever and Yeshua-and between the four of us?  We have this, He is working in our lives, whether we see rainbows or coffins-the choice is ours, and I choose life-oh, my dear friends, I choose life~

And She Was……

There is a well known fact in this household, rarely spoken of, but my heart beats for him continuously, and he has earned my adoration.  David Byrne, MARRY ME.  🙂  I had the pure privilege of seeing the Talking Heads at Emerald City in Philadelphia, circa 1980.  Front row.  The rolling melodies and heart thumping bass can still be heard in my head, and I am dead serious when I say that the female guitarist made a pass at me.  Ah, the good old days when rock was rock and  a spade a spade.

I had a horrible nightmare last night.  Or I should say this morning-Dwain had decided to go to work, despite the blizzard conditions-he wasn’t answering my calls, he was nowhere to be found.  I awoke in a cold sweat, extremely anxious and confused.  Moments later, while sipping hot coffee, I phoned my husband and my nerves were calmed just by the sound of his voice.  Strange way to start the day…….

As I walked down to the garage, to feed the feline community, I felt it-or, perhaps didn’t feel it is a better way to say this.  No pain.  During Lyme flares, my feet are constantly in pain.  Bone pain, muscle pain-I don’t let it slow me down, but the mere fact that I was pain free was reason enough to look up at the sky and praise Him.  My lymph node has diminished, and there is even a noticeable lift in my loafers.  Oh, how beautiful life is.  And here’s the thang-none of us are promised more than this day.  We have a choice-to be positive among the chaos and confusion, carpe diem,  or, as I did yesterday-we can pout, stomp our feet and be a miserable pain in the ass in general, bringing everyone around us on edge, walking upon proverbial eggshells.

I fail Him each and every day, by thought and deed.  I repent, ask for forgiveness, and concentrate on my future-with my main man, golden retriever and Yeshua-and between the four of us?  We have this, He is working in our lives, whether we see rainbows or coffins-the choice is ours, and I choose life-oh, my dear friends, I choose life~

 

 

“If” I Go Crazy…

 

At this very moment, I am filled with a peace that surpasses all understanding-for the first time in weeks, months even.  I can play a good game at being the tough girl, the comedian, the cynic-but you all know differently.  Inside the flesh I am quivering, going back and forth between grief, heartbreak and rage.

I don’t want to write about the vile and evil machinations of bloodlines from bloody hell.  A modern day Babylon-complete with sacrificing children to Moloch, spirit cooking, human trafficking, Hellyweird  Pedovores and then some.  I am profoundly aware of the fact that I have more time on my hands than most.  Don’t get me wrong, I spend a total of maybe an hour and a half a day on my pc.  I know some of the people in my life may think I am living the life of Riley:  exactly how I perceived stay at home wives who didn’t need to work.  It is a freedom I require, however, because my CPTSD has disabled me to the point of a pure inability to handle stress, of any kind, on any level.  I have a million different things going-between my Fall cleaning, vet visits, grocery and errand running, doctor’s appointments and church obligations?  I swear to God, most days I don’t sit down until evening.  I fantasize about reading a Kunz, painting my antique vases, gardening even…then there’s the Lyme, and hey I’m not complaining-it could be so much worse.  Yet it is day by day, and moment by moment that I rely on the strength of Christ; my own is insufficient.

 

I have a choice.  I can sit around and wallow in fright-or I can snap the hell out of this fugue state, pick up my cross and grow a pair.  Here’s the thing-depression is a sign of being strong for just too long-this was the truth in my case; I’ve had to be much stronger than my sensitive nature is prone to being-and this is where prayer enters, stage right.

On the East coast, we are experiencing Florence-not full force, we live inland.  Ironically, I absolutely did sit on my proverbial ass today-just couldn’t must any energy.  No fucks given, if you catch my drift.  I went through videos, Twitter and Facebook.  Within an hour I was crying to my husband, hugging my dog-heading for the weed.  I took a long and hot shower, then took my time getting dressed; the entire time in prayer.  I don’t get down on my knees nearly as often as I should, but today was different.  I thanked Him for my clean mammogram, my husband and family.

Father, I can’t do this.  Not your girl, hope you understand, I’m just too weak.

And then:

I can do all things through Christ, who strengthens me.

And so it was, as I stood at the kitchen sink pondering life, that I felt his Spirit fill me to the brim.  The courage returned, a lift in my loafers.

Oh man, God is good.

 

 

 

 

The Sun Goes Down Alone

 

Before I tell the tale (Passion, Intrigue, Flea Bombs!!!! Murder..) I have to share what happened in church yesterday.  You just can’t make this stuff up…so, I’m having a rough week in terms of my self esteem, snakes and figuring out what I want to do with my life…or, more like, what I am capable of doing for the next month or so while I recover from Lyme.  I am NOT a good patient, I do NOT rest nearly enough, and my OCD will not let me rest until my house is clean, the dishes and laundry are done…when I was hit by a Harley years ago, my father thrilled at any doctor’s orders I broke, which were many.  I think back and now I know why-my mother, may she rest in peace, took what the doctors said verbatim.  She didn’t quit smoking; I understand that now as well.  But when a MD said jump, she simply asked if she would need a parachute.

So, I am finally back to church.  I missed my family so very much, and a more joyous morning I can’t remember-until the sermon.  My pastor started out by saying:

“So, what if conspiracy theories are true?  Does anyone really care?  (He used Elvis Presley and Michael Jackson’s deaths to prove his point-what if they were alive?  Who cares right?”

Ok, you all know that once a week I write about supposed conspiracy theories.  I know they are true stories, but fighting against MSM and their insipid drivel is pointless.  God will wake you up in his timing.  But I do remember a line from Ezekiel that said

Tell them even though they won’t believe you.  Tell them anyway.”

Okay, he isn’t talking about me, that could not be.  And then this:

“No matter what venue, the news, radio or Christian bloggers; we Christians blather on about things of no importance.  We talk too much, us Christians.”

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Every member of that church knows I blog.  Actually, I am surprised I wasn’t run out of town-but nothing, no stares or put downs.  Ok, everything isn’t about me, and I know my pastor’s character, it isn’t like him to bash, well, anyone.  He calls Satan ‘Stan,’ for crying out loud.   Yet, as the day went on I became convinced that he was talking about me.  Had someone complained?  After all, I had been sick and I am sure I wasn’t expected at this particular service.

So, in a funk, I laid on the couch and watched old movies-a particularly light and funny one first-Chasing Steve-in which Sandra Bullock plays a delightfully bonkers but brilliant crossword puzzle writer, her parents set her up on a blind date and who comes to the door?  Bradley Cooper-and who in their right mind would say no to him???  Hilarity ensues, and I recommend this movie if you need a lift in your loafers.

Then we have the fucking bugs from HELL to talk about.  I haven’t met a tick or flea who doesn’t love my blood.  I hate them with a hatred that simmers and stews.  I become paranoid, neurotic and driven-if my golden is itchy, it’s bloody WAR.  An unholy war at that.  Diatomaceous earth rules the day-it is sprinkled in every crevice of my home.  Then we have the “natural” flea spray (which really does nothing but make me feel better and smells like cinnamon and cloves) and, finally, the Flea Carpet powder, which I use on rare occasions-like this morning.  Take that! you creepy, malignant blood suckers.

I’ll be AOK.  Soon as the boys of Summer are annihilated?  I’ll be sitting pretty-I praise God through the Storm.  My brother is coming to visit this week and diligence must prevail-either that or I’ll be checking myself into a nice padded cubicle.  I hear they have room service.

affection board broken broken hearted
Is this the end of us?

 

My Analyst Told Me……..

About a week ago, my brother sent me an email with the information for a local therapist. I had given up therapy (God and I had this) and frankly, he was concerned. If I am going to face upheaval and pain, I call my bro, as I can emote at whim and he will not judge me. He gives great advice, so I looked so forward to meeting Nancy. The appointment was made for this morning.

I haven’t eaten in two days. I shake, from my feet on up to my hands. I have crying bouts-I cannot sleep through the night, never a problem before. This isn’t good for my Lyme recovery-let’s face it, what happened Wednesday afternoon wouldn’t be good for anyone. I drove in the wrong direction for 30 minutes, so distracted was moi. Finally, after driving miles on slick, rain drenched country roads. And I drove aggressively, fearlessly-which isn’t really me.

I spoke of the “incident” with my stepson in my last blog. How he has walked around in a state of rage for three months now, first depression-now red hot anger. He went on a verbal tirade about how I was a “blood sucking leach,” that I was a “joke” to the entire family. I was in fear of him punching me, and when I tried to go back inside, he blocked my way.

So here I am at Nancy’s pad. I fill out the paperwork and wait. An attractive and cheerful woman greets me with a hug. We sit down and I commence to lose my shit, and cry like a child. She proceeds to ask me a myriad of questions, mainly about brain fog and forgetfulness. By the time she gets to what she thinks I have? My mind is moving one hundred miles in seventy different directions.

“Dissociative Identity Disorder,” she says in a hushed tone.

She gave me the reasons behind her thinking, admitted that it was too early to be sure, gave me a tissue and rescheduled. As I drove to the pharmacy on the way home, it hit me pretty hard. I broke down and called my brother from said pharmacy. I wept through my interaction with the cashier. They know me well. They were concerned.

I have a few questions for sure. I am not going to go head over heels into this without ensuring that she can help me with my PTSD and Narcissistic Abuse syndrome. The only time lapse I remember was two weeks ago, albeit a four hour lapse. I was reading my bible on the couch in the living room, the clock read 8:00 a.m. When I traipsed into the kitchen for a glass of water (I had just received a very upsetting email from my sister)and the stove read 12:30 p.m.

I would poo poo the whole thing if it weren’t for the dichotomy between my mellow self, and my ‘I will cut a bitch” self. But doesn’t everyone have another side to them? DID happens for a few reasons, but in my case she believes that I suffered such devastating trauma from emotional abuse in my childhood, that I created another persona if you will.

Emotionally and physically exhausted, I made an appointment with Nancy for next week. I won’t let this ruin my weekend, as God has the final say on what I am suffering from, and He alone has the cure. Be blessed family.

And She Was……

There is a well known fact in this household, rarely spoken of, but my heart beats for him continuously, and he has earned my adoration.  David Byrne, MARRY ME.  🙂  I had the pure privilege of seeing the Talking Heads at Emerald City in Philadelphia, circa 1980.  Front row.  The rolling melodies and heart thumping bass can still be heard in my head, and I am dead serious when I say that the female guitarist made a pass at me.  Ah, the good old days when rock was rock and  a spade a spade.

I had a horrible nightmare last night.  Or I should say this morning-Dwain had decided to go to work, despite the blizzard conditions-he wasn’t answering my calls, he was nowhere to be found.  I awoke in a cold sweat, extremely anxious and confused.  Moments later, while sipping hot coffee, I phoned my husband and my nerves were calmed just by the sound of his voice.  Strange way to start the day…….

As I walked down to the garage, to feed the feline community, I felt it-or, perhaps didn’t feel it is a better way to say this.  No pain.  During Lyme flares, my feet are constantly in pain.  Bone pain, muscle pain-I don’t let it slow me down, but the mere fact that I was pain free was reason enough to look up at the sky and praise Him.  My lymph node has diminished, and there is even a noticeable lift in my loafers.  Oh, how beautiful life is.  And here’s the thang-none of us are promised more than this day.  We have a choice-to be positive among the chaos and confusion, carpe diem,  or, as I did yesterday-we can pout, stomp our feet and be a miserable pain in the ass in general, bringing everyone around us on edge, walking upon proverbial eggshells.

I fail Him each and every day, by thought and deed.  I repent, ask for forgiveness, and concentrate on my future-with my main man, golden retriever and Yeshua-and between the four of us?  We have this, He is working in our lives, whether we see rainbows or coffins-the choice is ours, and I choose life-oh, my dear friends, I choose life~

 

 

And She Was……

There is a well known fact in this household, rarely spoken of, but my heart beats for him continuously, and he has earned my adoration.  David Byrne, MARRY ME.  🙂  I had the pure privilege of seeing the Talking Heads at Emerald City in Philadelphia, circa 1980.  Front row.  The rolling melodies and heart thumping bass can still be heard in my head, and I am dead serious when I say that the female guitarist made a pass at me.  Ah, the good old days when rock was rock and  a spade a spade.

I had a horrible nightmare last night.  Or I should say this morning-Dwain had decided to go to work, despite the blizzard conditions-he wasn’t answering my calls, he was nowhere to be found.  I awoke in a cold sweat, extremely anxious and confused.  Moments later, while sipping hot coffee, I phoned my husband and my nerves were calmed just by the sound of his voice.  Strange way to start the day…….

As I walked down to the garage, to feed the feline community, I felt it-or, perhaps didn’t feel it is a better way to say this.  No pain.  During Lyme flares, my feet are constantly in pain.  Bone pain, muscle pain-I don’t let it slow me down, but the mere fact that I was pain free was reason enough to look up at the sky and praise Him.  My lymph node has diminished, and there is even a noticeable lift in my loafers.  Oh, how beautiful life is.  And here’s the thang-none of us are promised more than this day.  We have a choice-to be positive among the chaos and confusion, carpe diem,  or, as I did yesterday-we can pout, stomp our feet and be a miserable pain in the ass in general, bringing everyone around us on edge, walking upon proverbial eggshells.

I fail Him each and every day, by thought and deed.  I repent, ask for forgiveness, and concentrate on my future-with my main man, golden retriever and Yeshua-and between the four of us?  We have this, He is working in our lives, whether we see rainbows or coffins-the choice is ours, and I choose life-oh, my dear friends, I choose life~