I hate my ancestors’ genes

I’m having a second back surgery in March. I’m waiting for a scheduler to call me to confirm a date, posting stupid shit on FB, and spinning between feeling like cackling hysterically and crying. Then I think about getting my shit together and making loose mental plans because that usually makes me feel better. So far, I have taken Rips for a walk, played guitar, brewed a fresh pot of coffee (so I can deal with everything in a properly wired state, of course), and eaten lots of Jewel tortilla chips. I’m giving myself a headache.

One of the main things fucking with me right now is thinking about another year of no really hard, vigorous exercise. It is scaring the shit out of me, to be honest. I’ve made it through the pandemic, menopause transition, being back in touch with my family, starting a business, normal relationship stuff, staying sober, and all the regular stressors in my life because of exercise. Even through all the physical pain I’ve had I still keep moving and sweating and it gives me clarity and peace of mind. If I didn’t have all these things going on at one time I would be better off. If it was just my family, or just pandemic, or just perimenopause, I would be okay, but I already feel like I just can’t take one more fucking thing. My plate is full. My balance is already off. Once I get done here, I’ll go exercise. It’s a thing I have that I can rely on.

I’m not going to kill myself, I’m not going to start drinking, I’m not going to lose my mind (maybe just a little). I am however, going to be working really hard to hold on and I don’t feel up to it. I will be up to it. I will be fine. I don’t feel like it today, however.

I also dread the medication. I went through withdrawal from Oxy last time, after only 10-14 days on it and I don’t feel like I want to do that again. Shaking, crying for no reason, profuse sweating, chills. I never even felt a need for it, or craving. My body just can’t have addictive substances. The nurse I spoke to today expressed sympathy, but was, as they all are, slightly dismissive of my concern. They all tell me since I know about it, I’ll be fine. I’m aware and have told them, so it will be okay. They can all say that because they most likely have never gone through withdrawal. It’s fucking miserable. I’m also slightly allergic to Oxy, so I’ll be itchy the whole time I’m on it. I’m already exhausted just thinking about it.

I did not win the genetic lottery.

Word that does not sound like what it is

pulchritude

[ puhl-kri-tood, -tyood ]See synonyms for pulchritude on Thesaurus.com

---

nounphysical beauty; comeliness.

OTHER WORDS FOR pulchritude

loveliness, beauteousness, prettiness, beauty; allure.

From dictionary.com

Brother update

No, he can’t read this. I limit who can see my posts when I put them on FB. I’m not dumb (at least about that).

When we went back the first time in December, his doctor had come to check on him, so I walked out to her car with her because I have no information and don’t know what’s going on. She said that he is basically in super slow decline and will sometimes have a rapid decline in between. No timeline.

We’re just waiting.

I don’t have enough posts with lists

Here are more things I’d like to make lists about:

• Music I’m learning on clarinet and guitar
• All the places I have physical pain with descriptions of how we got here
• Things white men do that make me wonder if they are going to physically harm me
• Shit Minnesota drivers do
• All the shittiest jobs I’ve had with descriptions of management
• The cutest dogs I saw this week
• Things I discussed with my friend that made us cackle
• Band names that said friend and I have come up with
• Lists
• All the places I’d like to be traveling or living in right now
• Haircuts I have had with photo accompaniment
• Haircuts other people have had with photos optional
• Great dog names
• Groceries
• Tasks I need to get done and will probably not do because they are not actually important
• Types of ice and how to walk on them
• Random French stuff
• German words I learned this week
• State parks I’d like to visit
• Famous Pennsylvanians. Not really, I just ran out of ideas.
• Great Maxi Priest songs

Skills I’d like to be able to monetize

Staying hydrated

Coming up with nicknames for pets

Getting injured doing mundane life tasks

Knowing how people feel about me almost immediately

Saying no decisively and clearly

Reading and understanding what I read

Being sarcastic

COMIN’ IN HOT!

Plans for 2022:

Dance more. Ripley does not approve, but nobody likes her anyway.

Keep nurturing my friend’s obsession with One Direction. (It’s oddly satisfying watching this happen. I don’t love Niall with all my heart, no I don’t.)

Keep thinking I’m funny, no matter the feedback.

Get and play clarinet, practice with all the windows open so the neighbors can keep track of my progress.

Play guitar 2-3 times a week, same as above. (I kinda suck at it.)

Run away with any smokin’ hot celebrities that I have a crush on. Hey! Don’t think it won’t happen! Sorry, Lumpy, this is just how it is.

Continue to not eat that hellish abomination we call kale. Devil food!

Tell more people to fuck off.

I Have a Use for You

Things I am finding useful lately:

Ripley, as always, and the dog park, for my sanity

my bike

books, then some more books, then even more books

pre-cooking all the proteins

Apple watch

Epsom salts and Salonpas

The town hall meeting in my head is now out of control

It feels unreal that all it took was one phone call from my ma and I’m fighting to keep my healthy patterns in place. Between being in touch with her and perimenopause hormones, my head feels a little chaotic. I told Lumpy that the normal daily town hall meeting has exploded into a street brawl, and the person with the gavel has given up all pretense of order.

Normally there’s just a lot of normal stuff-one person falling asleep, one person anxious because they will be addressing the group for the first time, one person sitting in the back being a sarcastic clown, a couple of concerned citizens who really do want what’s best for the town, and at least one person sitting to the far side, wanting to pick a fight. The agent of chaos had learned to just stay in the broom closet and not participate. Well, it seems that someone has opened that damn closet door, and the agenda has been thrown out the window. The agent of chaos and the fighter are having their way with the nice folks who had just been showing up to do their civic duty, or to at least be entertained by the process.

I’m exaggerating, of course. I’m mostly still okay, but I haven’t felt this disorderly in a while. About since the last contact I had with my mom, to be more to the point. I feel like I can actually feel my brain working in an old way that seems familiar and unwanted. I keep telling myself that it’s okay if I love myself. I’m allowed to. I’m allowed to be loved by my people. It’s okay to continue asking my friends for support.

I don’t think it’s all going to come undone. It’s the process of going through instead of around that’s hard.

Mom and I are going to be okay.

I can’t believe I’m writing this. I expected this to be so fucking hard and it has been, but it also hasn’t been. We’ve picked back up in a good place, with me still somewhat guarded, but also wholeheartedly trying to do the right and good thing.

My brother. Well, my brother. Lumpy and I cleaned the walls in the living room, kitchen and bathroom, and Lumps dusted the walls and ceilings in my mom’s room, and what I couldn’t stop thinking about was how nothing got that dirty in 6 months, or possibly even a year. My brother has been letting my mom’s house get dirtier and dirtier and hasn’t lifted a fucking finger to help so that his caregiver/nursemaid/housekeeper wouldn’t have to do it all. All this time, I don’t think he has ever cleaned. Beyond us cleaning the walls of the cigarette smoke and dirty buildup, the fridge is dirty, the microwave is dirty, the surfaces are not dusted, the carpet needs shampooing. That fucker left all that shit for my mom to do every day for years.

He is doing TERRIBLY, and my mom realized that him coming home was not a good idea. She said she is thinking she’ll see how it goes for a minute, then might have to put him in a nursing home. She doesn’t know, but Lumpy is going to set up a Go Fund Me to see if we can raise a couple of nickels to help pay for all of this. He has some money, but she could always use more, and I do not want her to use any of her retirement money on him anymore than she already has.

The funniest/best thing I learned about my mom is that she is a pretty far lefty!!!! I HAD NO IDEA. I knew she was a democrat, but she said that she wanted to vote for Bernie when he and Hillary were running, then she wanted to vote for Warren this year. Not that Warren is far left, but she was far enough. No idea. Absolutely no idea. I get the feeling if her life had been different she would have been a radical and a protestor. It just makes me feel better, and now I finally understand where I get it. I wasn’t such an outlier in the family, after all, and I’m healing by learning it now. She seems to still like men, though, which we will disagree on. 🙂 I mean, they’re okay, but in our family, they have done all the worst damage. Her son still needs to be treated like a child and has his whole life as far as I can remember. Once he is gone, we’ve moved to the east coast, and she doesn’t have to have her life revolve around him, I wonder how it’s going to be. I think we’ll be able to have fun again, and I think I’ll be able to tell her all the shit my dad said and did to me.

I’m hopeful, all. I’M HOPEFUL.

I guess this is really it now

My brother is going to hospice care today or tomorrow, I think. My mom finds out more today. I looked this up on nih.gov, so that I could be clear on what hospice care is supposed to be: “Like palliative care, hospice provides comprehensive comfort care as well as support for the family, but, in hospice, attempts to cure the person’s illness are stopped. Hospice is provided for a person with a terminal illness whose doctor believes he or she has 6 months or less to live if the illness runs its natural course.”

We’re at the end, and what I mostly feel is relief. I’m also angry at the burden placed on my mom, but I can’t help but think about how they chose each other a long time ago. So, I have sympathy for my mom, but I also realize that she could have had a better life. My brother has only been able to make decisions based on addiction for so long that I don’t think he could have had much of a different life. He would have had to take action a good twenty years ago for him to be in a different situation now. I’m still, angry, though, that this is so fucked up for my mom.

How is it I got out and he just sunk further in? My brain is flashing between past and future right now. I have to work on centering myself in the now today. I am thinking about my past with them, the flashes of survival instinct that got me away from them, and the fact that I got sober. I’m also thinking about all that needs to happen over the next year or so. Lumpy and I are moving east for his job and to be closer to his dad in two years, so I presented the idea of my mom going with us, and she actually said she probably would. I guess when she is down to no options, I’m an okay choice. It’s a lot to think about.

On the lighter side, the part of me that sees everything as funny would really like to start making morbid jokes about bringing out your dead and shouting The End Is Nigh! I’m wrong. So wrong. And yet, totally right.