No title again… sorry!

 I don’t remember if I noted this here or not and I didn’t go look but about 2 months, or maybe a bit more,  I stopped eating sugar and quit drinking pop. No real reason, in fact, I didn’t even think about it, just I stopped craving sugar and I’d gone years without pop before and just sort of slipped back into not drinking it. The other day I was craving a diet rootbeer and I figured that it wouldn’t kill me… Wrong. I started to feel shaky and my head started pounding and my chest felt heavy. Oh, one more thing, rootbeer doesn’t have caffeine but I have cut down my caffeine to almost none. I drink an iced tea once per day. Stopped with hot coffee and do drink decaf iced coffee, anyway, I don’t know if it was the sodium or sweetener or what but it made me realize that I had been feeling like shit when I drank soda and I am feeling better not having those things in my life. I cut the caffeine on purpose. My anxiety was too overwhelming and I thought… You know! Caffeine can not be good for that!! I was right. Really proud of myself actually. Oh, and if I do have something with sugar I literally eat about a square inch of it. I’ve found that if I eat any sugar or white carbs ( my frigging fave!) that I CRAVE more sugar. 

My over medicated self ( for a couple of days until I pinpointed where my coherent thought had run of to and called the pharmacy ) had a silver lining…. Restful sleep. Thank God for drugs, I always say. But it introduced a new reoccurring dream… wanna hear about it? No? Ok, I’ll go ahead and tell ya! Any Two Semester Psychiatrist can probably dig into this one…..

There’s a flood, there’s always a flood, that part is normal…. But we have to be evacuated by plane and for some reason my grandparents are throwing this huge party. I spend the entire time looking for my oldest son, in this dream he fluctuates between 2-4 years old and I’m about 20 years old, and trying to make sure that he holds my hand while I have a backpack that I’m filling with food for him because the flight is going to be 10 hours long. That’s what I do all night. Find him, pack food for him.

Anyone want to take a stab at this one? It’s pretty easy.

The sleeping meds I take are infamous for people sleepwalking. Not me. I’m a talker and during the dream I once woke up holding my Juliette’s paw, I guess that was my sub for son’s had. She hates to have her paws held so she was giving me a look when I saw what I was doing. She looked like… Woman, unhand me or I’m gonna throw these paws! Then she snuggled with me.

I had no idea that I was the type of person who shops to fill that empty hole in my soul, turns out, I’m kick ass at this superpower and I’ve been getting pieces for our vacation. I’m in yet another midlife crisis and I’m changing up my “aesthetic” knee length or above, dresses, puffy sleeves or floaty sleeves, square neck, poofy skirt, ruching across the chest. Pretty much any shoe to dress it up or down from Ked’s to platforms to doc’s to flats. Yup. That it… and joggers, tight ankles, pulled up a bit, tank top and swim suit covers that look like men’s linen laidback shirts. I’m freeing myself. From what? Well, I guess constraints. Time for a new and, if I might add, fucking sexy, me. 

I’m sure there’s more but I’m falling asleep. My schedule is jacked up.

Good morning Luvs,

Where have you been?

Me

Ok so some stuff…

 1) my husband is feeling better-ish. Doc thinks it’s diving related since its happened twice within a couple of days of diving. We can’t get into a cardiologist-pulmonologist until FEBRUARY(!!!) understandable with Covid and yet shocking at the same time. He stayed home for several days and one morning about 4am I saw a tall figure with bushy hair walk into my bedroom and bend over my husband. I stayed perfectly still as I watched him put a hand on his chest and then stand up. I whispered….”Creeper, what are you doing?” And my son said “ Stalker, making sure dad is breathing” it touched me deeply.

2) My mostest favorite granddaughter recently had a birthday. One of the gifts I sent her was a sloth as tall as she is. She knows that her GiGi loves a good sloth. So we had this conversation:

Me: so is your sloth a boy or girl?

Her: he’s a boy.

Me: what’s his name?

Her: Mr Too Spicy

Me: oh, ok. Cool name.

Her: his eyes are scary.

Me: what?! That’s not even possible!! Let me see him.

Her: points the phone at him

Me: No way! Those eyes say he loves you!

Her: whoa! Very scary eyes!

She’s right about that.

Pray for New Orleans!!! This hurricane is so scary!

Shoot. I have to cut this short. See ya later Alligator. Be back soon

No Title. Sorry

 I had a post ready to publish and then I spent yesterday with my husband who was in the hospital with the list of possibilities being Heart Attack, Covid, Stroke, pulmonary embolism( from diving) and on and on. I couldn’t stay. The waiting room was so crowded that they had people outside on sidewalks waiting to be seen and helicopters coming and going and coming and going… we decided that rather than have me sit in a Petri dish I’d stay at home, a few minutes away, instead. My OM drove up from Arlington and we basically sat around for hours and hours and per usual, with all doctors and hospitals, no clear answers. There will be follow up with specialists, of course, and when he got home we put him straight to bed after a good showering with a fire hose and a wire brush and my stressed out brain tried to read a book. No luck. I fell asleep before OM left.

I’ll try and publish the other post later. Due to a mix up at the PHARMACY(!!!) I’m feeling a bit, shall we say….. Over medicated. Not too pissed about that.

Night

Tracy

Summer

 I don’t like the summer anymore. I have an autoimmune disorder that makes it difficult for my body to regulate my temperature. Sure it’s a fun party game when every nurse ever starts to wonder why all of their thermometers are broken or if….. I’m a vampire….it hovers somewhere between 95-97.4…. Unless I’m in the heat and then it shoots up and that’s just inconvenient at best.

But! I used to love the summer. ( in Washington) the days were hot but not hot as hell and the nights were cool and smelled like freshly mowed grass, pine trees and earth and I miss that dearly. Finally coming to the realization that I’ll likely never be back there again. No reason to be now that my father has passed. 

I was laying in bed trying to heave the heaviness off, deep breathing and traveling back in time. I heard taps being played yesterday and every time I ever hear it I’m thrust back into a cabin in the woods at Camp Sweyolakan on Lake Coeur d’Alene Idaho and we’re like 10 years old talking about periods and eating toothpaste.

I hated camp. It was a Campfire Camp and I was always sent on a different week than my pack. That’s why I didn’t like it. I was shy. Not knowing anyone, on what I thought was an island, makes for lonely times. With the exception of that…. I thought that the camp was magical. It was lush with dense green trees and ferns and mushrooms. It smelled like lake and earth and oxygen mixed with possibility and adventure. We’d make jewelry from pine needles and glittery pine cones. We’d hunt for fairies in the forest and find the gifts they’d left for us. I still love fairies and my YM’s middle name is fairy in French. Taps would send us to bed at night and wake us in the morning. The slow lapping of tiny waves against the beach was soothing and mixed with the sunrise it was exactly what heaven must feel like.

As I got older summer was spent at the lake and “cruising” Riverside and drinking Olde English (crrraaapp!) and riding bikes for miles and miles and camping in my front yard and kick the can. It was foster kids and Rob and his brother and their friends all piled onto my deck talking for hours. A good sized pack of 12 of us. I was the only girl and I liked it that way. I was the crush, the advice giver, the tomboy football player, the one on top of the shoulders for chicken wrestling, up for a swimming race across the lake, bike tricks, jumping, fort building, rock fights. I was tossed around and beloved. I loved sumner. 

That turned to walking out at night from a hot kitchen to a cool summers night. Car rides, motorcycle rides, golf courses, late nights that melted into dawn, then baseball games under the lights, clubs. Sand volleyball, darts/hearts/spades! Frisbee and boom boxes, Doug’s 70’s rock was a requirement, Greenland, Heather…..

Babies, the Oregon Coast, picnics , bbq’s, sprinklers, beers on the stairs, Doug’s children and mine, poker nights, strollers and birthday parties….

I have no o idea why I wanted to jot this down. A happy little island of memories. 

Tracy

Jesus H

Today got me day drinking. Thank God I live surrounded by bars and lounges that DELIVER.

I don’t day drink. I RARELY drink at all. 

I simply wanted to drown out the day. Put myself to sleep. Sink into the black waters and feel the quiet. Stop the voices yelling at me. The anger. The pure rage. The name calling. The charges against me, one, having my 24 year old Son pay  $50 a MONTH for rent( we also got him a bank account at 18 and a credit card to put a bit on and make payments to help get him used to responsibility) and two, we moved from Spokane and ruined his life ( Take a ticket, Luv,).

The noise…..

Because my oldest flew into Texas, has been staying with Om, and then oldest son sent a text to my husband, not even me, saying “ I’m five minutes away from your house” knowing my husband wouldn’t be home so they’d have free reign. 

It was like the room went into slow motion as all four kids walked in ( they tricked youngest into going to lunch by having YM lie and say that it was just her getting him out of the house) 

I had time to think….. Am I feeling emotions? Am I numb? What is happening to my brain as it felt disconnected from my body. Pure panic attack where I just simply felt like I was watching this happen. Two kids silent and awkward and two just tag teaming. 

I felt more tired than I thought possible. My mind trying to escape. My husband ringing the phone off the hook. WaWaWaWaWa went the raised voices….

And I’m afraid to feel that slipping feeling. Dark water. I’m a piece of shit he said. He gritted his teeth and spit out between pursed lips… piece of shit. Worthless. Hate. Feels nothing but rage. 

It’s a loop in my mind now. Replaying. Those and every unkind word ever in my life. I remember each and every one. 

I believe them. Must be true. Am I a piece of shit?

It’s dark.

Pretty Princess….

 Today I had to go get some blood work done and I wasn’t exactly excited about the prospect of going to the tiny blood sucking box known as Lab Co_rp. Texas is back to raging with Covid, do NOT get me started, and I just can not do small spaces. I sucked it up, put on my new, boring, KN95 mask and went. We went late in the day hoping to avoid people. That didn’t work. There are signs everywhere telling people to wear a mask to enter and then it happens. Out in the wild and anti-mask demon, not joking, weighs close to 500lbs, so you know, no co-morbidity there, sweating, coughing, clearing his throat, sniffling, motherfucker who proceeds to sit NEXT to me. 

I’m all, squirming and twisting and trying to push my mask into my flesh and this guy is coughing without covering his mouth and making comments about masks. 

I can feel the Covid crawling on me by that point and I feel like if he can assault me with his face then I can assault him and so I turn to my husband and have this conversation:

Me: Will you do me a favor?

Him: what?

Me: If I need you to finish paying will you?

Him: weird silent tilt of the head

Me: Listen, my mouth is fixing to write a check that I’m not sure I can pay with Big Fella right here.

Husband: laughs a lot and says “ I got yer back”( I mean, he is a black belt and an instructor, so I’d hope so)

And then the guy calls me a crazy sheep and walks out.

I don’t know about you but I’m pretty sure that in that moment, I was more Texan than I ever thought possible and that nozzle left! 

I win.

I rewarded myself by buying a dress that might just make me the prettiest I’ve ever been. Like, I swooned at my own self! My husband is getting me the other colors tomorrow but this one is like a dark burnt red with balloon sleeves and it’s simply beautiful and simple at the same time. 

I had a good day. 

Goodnight Moon.

Me

Let’s do a q&a!

 Ok, LOTS of questions about THIS!

1) I’m just going to do the basics that everyone is asking rather than one question, so we want to know…. How sick is Robb, does he have a diagnosis? Will he still do my podcast? Do his kids know? And I’m a crappy person for giving it very little space when I mentioned it, obviously.

Robb’s been having kidney “ issue” symptoms for several months now. I’m not going to delve into his med history or explain it all but docs pretty much wrote everything off and gave him antibiotics. He had another scan done on this past Friday and they scanned his whole body and lymph nodes.he will get the diagnosis this week. However, it is likely that it’s cancer given several indicators. He will have surgery, regardless, to get the tumor or kidney out and depending on if there are any lymph nodes involved there will be other steps. His daughters know a very age appropriate amount of information. He will do podcasts if he wants to. That’s not up to me to decide or ask him to do. It’s the least of my worries at the moment. Last but not least, yes, I’m a crap person. I thought we’d established that already?

I’m feeling testy here, People.

2) ( Again, a combo of multiple questions about the same topic) Any progress with your children? Is it difficult? Do you have a therapist? Do you think it’s your fault that two of your children aren’t talking to you? Seems like it must be your fault. Have you really done some soul searching about your part in this? There’s three sides to every story yada yada yada, I really think that you’re not telling everything……

No. No progress. It is difficult but I’ve found that my mindset about it can either make it harder or make it… Less difficult. I have a therapist who is so great about helping me see the things I can’t because I’m in the Forrest. She’s very much about being still and letting things happen in their own way in their own time and that’s something that I struggle with. I like problems solved right now, let’s dig into this until we’re all clear of our emotions and start the healing, and other people aren’t like that I guess. As for it being my fault and all the other stuff that’s been sent. One thing that I’ll say that really pisses me off… guess what, there is not always three sides bullshit. That saying does nothing but diminish a persons valid feelings when they are experiencing any kind of physical, emotional or verbal… stuff. Just…

 Bless your precious heart, Sugar. 

3) I wonder if your depression really is better because I haven’t seen you paint lately. 

Ya. I don’t know. It’s a peaks and valley kind of thing maybe. Perhaps I don’t need it as much as when I’m in the valley? 

4) You still doing a documentary? Yes! Oh, exciting things!! I’ve met a therapist who specializes in men who were abused by women as children and he was as well. My God, the information goldmine that I have struck! Now, he’s about males but it’s the psychology of the women that is something I’m really interested in so I’m not sure that the sex of the victim “ always” matters. It’s not a broad brush type of thing. Lots of interviews!

Have to go

Tracy

Some stuff..

 My youngest will be turning 19 next month. He’s struggled hard with the pandemic. I haven’t written about it here because he deserves his privacy so I’ll just say that things have been really really tough. In March of 2020 he heard me in horror the way a teenage had died from Covid, not knowing then how dark the situation would become for my family and over 600,000 other families. My father passing reaffirmed in him his terror and we eventually had to get him help. 

I decided to delete what I’d written next and to say this instead…. In the last couple of months he’s been slowly improving and I’m super proud of the strength of this child of mine.

Now here we are with this new surge. Ugh.

Also, along the lines of his age, I look at him, his life, and think about me at that age and it is simply dumbfounding the difference between us! He is for sure still a “child” in many, if not, most, ways. Never had an actual girlfriend ( every single one of my kids put off any type of dating until they were over 19 ), never been exposed to drugs, never had a drink, never smoked a cigarette. Nothing. And the same was true for my other three. 

Me at 19? To write it down and read it would make me, now, hide my kids from me! But, this part… Moved out on my own. Raising a three year old. I was fearless. I never thought that it was too hard. I never whined or felt sorry for myself… Ok, I did hate Christmas because I never got a gift and my birthday was always real iffy if I would or not. I just moved through it and not only that, I had fun. I was riding in red cars when I was 18 and 19 and for 2 more years. I barely slept. I danced a lot. I heard Black Velvet and Nothing Compares to You so many times that if  I ever get Alzheimer’s I’ll still remember those lyrics! I put stuff in it’s drawer and moved through it while reaching out to grasp the brass ring, and for me, the brass ring didn’t have to be much. Small kindnesses. A roof over my baby’s head and food in his tummy and summer nights or snowball fights. I was not a “baby” by any measure but age. I was an adult with adult responsibilities. I ALWAYS felt older than my age. Even the people in their very early 20’s that were around me felt very much, not like “babies” It’s different now. People think they’re kids when the are 30. It just blows my mind to see him at this age and think that  that poor thing would starve to death in 39 minutes if he was on his own.

I’m a big fan of moving out when you’re 19yrs old. I think that adult baby birds add one too many adults in the house. But, with the pandemic going on, this one probably won’t move until he’s 40. Both my girls moved at 19, the boys, not so much.

Anyway, that’s what’s on my mind tonight. 

Haven’t talked to the son or daughter. Have FaceTimed the OM’s kiddos. Once per week…. Really is a difficult  thing. Haven’t seen the oldest’s son’s child in months. 

On a brighter note… My neighbor on this Island of mine is running for Governor of Te-as. White bread, Evangelical, pro life except he literally has a video where he’s upset that the US is feeding immigrant babies that are here without parents! Let me say this again, he thinks we should stop feeding them or, at least not in the US. I totally get the feelings about illegal immigration, I do, I’ve lived in Arizona and you get it when you’ve lived there AND, my husband is in an industry that has seen TONS of jobs lost to the cheapest labor. It’s affected people we’ve known. I get it… However, we should not feed children? Does that sound very Christ Like to you? 

 He’s mad at social media and transgender people and doesn’t want a boy on a girls team and stuff, ok, his opinion, lots of people agree with it…He wants to protect confederate statues…But that’s just some dog whistle bullshit. Who gives a hoot about a treasonous general when the power and water are off because it’s, oh I don’t know, that thing that comes ones a year… oh ya, WINTER! Millions without healthcare. Schools suck. Wages suck. And I love that he’s bitching about social media WHILE announcing his run for Governor ON social media! Oh, the irony! Abbott is Satan’s Seed, that’s for sure, but come on, can we just get someone who wants to help all Texans, not just Oil Baron Texans? Believe me, Texas needs help.

The press is sniffing around too and it will only get worse, so glad we live in a secure building.

I guess that wasn’t a brighter note after all.

This isn’t either. Robb, my Brit friend, his doctors found a tumor on his kidney. That’s really all I can write about that.

Ok, so SUPER CHEERY! 

How’s this, my depression ( MINE, I own it?) is at bay for the most part. Skip skipping along. That’s good, right? You know why??? Because this is the time of year that helps to perk me up. We’re around the corner from fall and even though it’s gonna be hot until November, Honey, it’s still fall! And that means, winter will be here and I do love me some winter!! This is how my brain works. 

Have to run.

Cattails,

Me