Stuck on an island.
When you are a writer like me coupled with being a troubled soul, your first instinct is always to write about what’s bothering you. In a journal, for no other eyes to see; in a fictional setting, to mask the truth that lies beneath; in a blog, to capture the moment.
But some things just cannot be journaled or fictionalized or blogged. And the pain that surrounds them stays stuck deep in your head and deep in your heart except for those moments when all the feelings overload into waterspouts of tears.
How do you write about the pain you feel, the raw emotional incredible relentless pain, without placing blame or regret on anyone, especially yourself?
You might find it within yourself to write a brief note in the journal or the foundations of a short story or even a quick vague blog post, but you keep finding yourself searching for a way to pour all the pain away through words.
You keep trying to find a way off the island.
Weekly Grace, #63.
- The early evening light that lasts allowing me to feel like I should get more important stuff done when I get home from work.
- Including cooking myself real food.
- And getting some good outside workouts.
- The first couple mornings of heading outside to work and not needing a heavy coat.
- Kari-cat’s lab tests are looking better.
Eight years of this.
The key word about type 2 diabetes in the eighth year since it branded itself upon me: STRUGGLE.
The first half was all about finalizing the old chapter of my life. And so, diabetes went into the background. (Except for Indianapolis in July and Des Moines in September.)
The second half was all about figuring out the next chapter of my life and finding some peace. And so, diabetes remained in the background.
I’ve been working out a lot lately, and while it feels good to exercise, I simply haven’t been watching what I eat. As a result, wild blood sugar swings are dominating my life right now. I’ll go from 180+ mg/dl after a meal to 80- mg/dl two hours later to 160+ mg/dl after treating, complete with emotions and other hormones all over the place, too. All in spite of being at the same stable weight, all in spite of lack of complications.
Getting back some sense of control instead of struggling all the time should be – NO, needs to be the theme of this next year with diabetes.
Weekly Grace, #62 (Late edition).
- New-to-me comfy couches.
- Overcoming fears of working out at work. (Still sweat way too much, though.)
- Snowy lazy Saturday.
- Delicious prosciutto and provolone sandwiches.
- Relearning euchre via iPad app.
Weekly Grace, #61.
- It was just the caffeine.
- It was a good book.
- This is a good song.
- She just makes me smile.
- Splitting out filling four cavities into two sessions. Easier on my mouth, easier on the pocketbook.
Doubt and caffeine.
The Bloggess tweeted today:
“Every time something really good happens to me I immediately assume the plummeting downward spiral is right over the horizon.”
since I got back from London since I wrote this post, I wake up with a sense of dread. A sense of dread that something horrible is about to happen (or worse, it already has, and I have yet to hear about it).
It’s not fair. It’s not fair that I got to this place with an incredible sense of peace, and yet all the familiar doubt starts fucking shit up. Seemingly out of nowhere this afternoon, I noticed the signs of a panic attack on the horizon with the only good reason being that I consumed an unreasonable amount of caffeine before lunch. I noticed the signs, though, and I stopped them in their tracks.
Hoping and hoping that reading the following quote on my commute to work did not trigger something else entirely, that it did not touch me where it hurts, that it was just the caffeine.
“Depression be like a bruise that never goes away. A bruise in your mind. You just got to be careful not to touch where it hurts. It always be there, though.” – The Marriage Plot, Jeffrey Eugenides
Weekly Grace, #60.
- Cats were fine while I was away and showed me how much they missed me upon my return.
- Shaving legs after a week of not doing so. (What can I say, the hotel shower was small?)
- Easiest transition back into work after vacation ever.
- Not needing to take time off work for the inevitable cold that followed travel.
- Weekend snowstorm, no messy commute – just watching the snowflakes fly from the comfort of a warm apartment.
Weekly Grace, #59.
- Love and support from all areas of my life.
- Being able to leave work and most other troubles behind for a week.
- Meeting longtime online friends offline.
- Taking more time out to read than I have in several months.
- Thrilled that I have been able to give myself one of my biggest dreams. (Now to dream something else up for next year?)
Weekly Grace, #58.
- There’s hockey to watch now that football is done another season.
- Fulfilling needs of mid-90′s nostalgia.
- The last time I had to fill the anti-anxiety medication was June, and the only reason I needed to now was to have the name on the bottle match my passport.
- Clam pizza. (It’s better than it might sound.)
- Tights. Lots of them!
Friday cat blogging.
Extreme close-up of the Kari-cat.