Poof

Breaking the Camel's Back

It's always fun to find new levels of pain that our bodies will dredge up when we find that we are, in fact, more stressed than we've ever been. Nice to know I have something to look forward to and that I can never say "well, at least it can't get worse." The usual insomnia and hysterical crying jags are par for the course (though the frequency of said crying jags has increased) but the tensing up of neck muscles as soon as I hit a road near my office and the clenching of my jaw throughout the day is not. Nor is the acid reflux I developed for a few days. That's what acid reflux is? What a bitch I am for thinking it couldn't be that bad. It's like with allergies; I used to think allergies just meant you were a pussy and then I realized that no, that's not what it is. And I didn't even develop any myself. But reflux, oy vey. And it just seems counter-intuitive to me that when it happens I need to eat. I feel like I'm about to throw up any moment and I'm supposed to put food on it? Ooph.

So yes, stress. Work has had me bent over for so long now that my knees are locked in place. Just the constant demands on my time from people who like to tell me how busy they are all the time. Whenever people say "we've just been too busy" I want to punch them in the throat because what the fuck? I'm busy too, partly because these assholes are clueless and disorganized and are just plain assholes. But my manager appears to have spoken with someone because all of a sudden the frequent requests/demands have stopped. I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop however, waiting for the head of the division that has been the noose around my neck to pull back on the rope. My friend tells me not to worry unless or until something comes up but I find that difficult a lot of the time because I despise the unknown. So my neck tenses up and my body refuses to relax enough to sleep.

Medical Madness

Saw my neurologist on Friday. We went through the usual exam and he said I was fine and he had no worries. He's leaving for Yale in December and I'll see one of his colleagues, all of whom he says are nice people. "I don't need them to be nice, " I said, "I just need them to be good." His response was "well, you aren't what I'd call a difficult patient." Lovely compliment.

But I'm glad that he doesn't foresee me having any issues. Still, I have a follow up MRI on September 7, when we'll see if I have any new inflammation (fingers crossed). And he prescribed me an anti anxiety medication at my request, because work is so stressful. Maybe it is a placebo effect or maybe it is already working but suffice it to say, it is my new best friend.

Respite

Upstairs Kid and I went shooting on Saturday. I did really poorly at first. My stance was off, I wasn't using the proper part of my finger to shoot, and I wasn't sure which eye to use. I eventually settled on the left, UK corrected how I was holding my arms and reminded me to use the flesh of my finger pad only. I improved greatly. And I had a great time. As we left the range, we saw a small plane flying low. I got it into my head that there might be an airshow and said "do you want to have an adventure?" UK was all for it so we did a U Turn and found the Fairfield airport, one of those small ones for private planes. We stumbled upon a historic airplane museum which was tiny and a bit sad but super fun because I got to sit in these little war replica planes an jeeps and such. We also got to see sky divers come in, those who took off at the other end of the hanger. Total fun.


From there we decided to cap the day with lunch and he suggested Rusty Bucket and swore he knew where it was. He sort of did but he'd gone there by bike so we got a bit turned around before finding it. As soon as we arrived I received a text from a number I didn't recognize. "I was thinking about you and hope you are doing OK. Take it for what it is ... take care." I didn't need Columbo or Sherlock to help me figure out that it was most likely Stalker. I forwarded it to Hunter so he could look up the number and yep, Stalker indeed. I received a second, garbled text about an hour later. "My dog and I didn't expect to get a reply but we wish you would". At least, I think that is what it said but it was really fucked up because he was drunk and/or high. Lovely. Fortunately, that was the end of it and I haven't heard from him since and when I returned to work on Monday, I didn't look at him. He did email me a forward to see if an issue that was closed had really been taken care of and I simply replied "no. For more detail please see the telecom worker involved." No wiggle room there. If he approaches me again Hunter said he'd call him and see what his problem is. Friends in high places.

Emotional

So Friday was a good medical appointment and, for the most part, a great Saturday. I stayed at UK's place that night because we went out drinking so I crashed on his floor. Got up at 7:30 a.m. and went to drive home but hit a fucking curb fucking up my rim. The tow truck guy was nice and even researched my preferred shop. Dropped car off, went back to UK's place to watch a couple episodes of "Deadliest Warrior"*, and eventually got the call that they put a spare on and would call me when they had the rim. Went home and crashed.

And then.... J called me on Sunday and told me that he wanted to let me know that he felt bad about not responding to my emails. He knows it's over and that I don't want to be his wife but he still loves me and so when I email him, it consumes him. I didn't know. We had an emotional conversation. In the end, I told him I'd stop emailing until he was ready and he reached out. It was a terrible conversation but a funny one because he always makes me laugh. He said goodbye by saying "well, it's been good crying with you but I think I should go." We talked about how he is really angry at me but really sad and can't help but love me. We talked about how he's so full of hate and anger and I just wish he could use it for good for once (it's true, he's an angry guy) and he said he's tried that but it doesn't work. I told him that whenever he calls I'm afraid he's going to yell at me and he said he thinks that's what I want because it will make me feel less guilty. "No, J, that isn't what I want. I'm terrified when you yell. And nothing will make me feel less guilty."

There were a few jokes about the pig, about how I signed papers giving him custody but that I have to pay for his maintenance and medical care. J also needs me to watch him from now until the pig dies. But still, Johan is no longer mine. The pig always distracts us from crying for a bit.

But yeah, tomorrow is D day. I have directions. I have my outfit planned (professional to show that I'm treating the occasion with respect). I have anti anxiety medication.

I have no idea how I'm going to hold my shit together.

The end

As you can see, I'm a bit scattered. I've been working on this post for awhile and I just can't write with any sense of cohesive narrative. I'm hoping the new meds help. Or maybe I'll go back to drawing pictures. Who knows? Who cares?