How to Kill a Covid Patient (w/ edit)

Today I am thankful for feeling sick to the point of numbness. 

How to kill a Covid patient:  

 Bring his children into the hospital room....

(at least they showed a small bit of mercy by allowing visitors)

Start a morphine drip....

and then decrease the oxygen flow until it flows no more. 

This will happen to my uncle in twenty minutes. 

They will start the procedure three minutes after his daughters arrive. 

Do I dare tell my relatives that pneumothorax is treatable? 

Of course not, knowing my uncle, he would have Googled it.  

Besides, after talking to him in the cemetery on the day he buried Judy, I know that he did not want to live in a world without her.  This sounds more peaceful than driving his RV off of a cliff as he hinted to me that day. . 

Just so everyone knows, when one is 78, this condition has a 42% survival rate.  The younger one is, the higher the survival rate. 

That is better than 0%. 

Damn.....

I'm sure my mom, grandparents and aunties will be there to greet him. 

They'll probably be behind Millie, the beagle he had when I was a toddler. 

This blows. 

My world death count for 2020 is now 14. 

Too many funerals.....

far too many. 

The black dresses keep getting smaller and smaller because it's really hard to eat when I'm freaked out. 

I guess it's time to forgive the tiny shit that people have done over the years that have hurt me.  Typically, I just door slam people when they publicly humiliate me or embarrass me without remorse. 

Maybe I ought to be more present for people (even the assholes). 

Life is far too short. 

I'm off to light a 7 day votive for my uncle. 

Love ya, 

S. 

NEXT DAY EDIT: 

It is my joy to report that the doctors are going to give my uncle a couple more days to see if his condition improves. 

Prayers are answered.  Halleluiah!  

EDIT TWO DAYS LATER 

He died this afternoon with his daughters by his side.  They are going into quarantine before we'l get to have a funeral. 

I guess I'll be toting a ton of flowers to the Arvada Cemetery around the end of the year.  

This bites.  

2020 is a Scream-fest

 

Today I am so far down that I am thankful that eventually I can go back up. 


The past few days were good. 

Some of the young patients finally saw me without my mask -  We were eating Thanksgiving dinner. 

A couple of them remarked that I was beautiful. 

I found myself uttering aloud my belief that the beauty they see is the joy emanating out me of due to the wonderful people in my presence. 

They asked my age.  I told the truth.  So many women fear aging and I figure if they can see that 50 doesn't mean decrepitude, maybe they won't grow to fear it.

Now that my liver tumor is gone, I'm healthy. 

No one believes I'm 51..... 

Love softens our faces, makes us smile, brightens our eyes and makes us more attractive. 

If any group of young people need love, it is young pregnant women recovering from addiction. 

They teach me quite a bit about love and loss. 

They show me the difficulty of doing the right thing. 

They have more compassion and strength of character than I have ever had. 

I used to have a 6-pack a day diet soda habit. 

I figure if these individuals can put aside alcohol, meth, crack and heroin 

the least I can do is stop drinking diet soda. 

I haven't touched it in two months. 

With all the pain in my life, I'm just focusing on the beauty that surrounds me and the young people full of promise trying to regain control of their lives. 

I was told my uncle was doing well.  He beat Covid. 

Life was beautiful. 

*****

I even realized that after seven years single - I actually look better. 

The stress lines are gone. 

My hair is longer than ever before. 

My eyes change color - sometimes they're brown, other times they're hazel and some days they are green. 

There has been an opportunity for self-discovery. 

I think that my natural state borders somewhere along a comedian and a prankster.  The more single time I have, the more I act like my mother. 

The problem with that is that I only knew her as an alcoholic. 

She was not repressed at all, 

she flirted with everyone, 

she was the queen of insults and always knew what to say to get a laugh, 

she liked to play pranks (what I used to refer to as 'white trash theater'),

she painted everything she could conceive of creating

and she sang (albeit a little flat).  I too have a tendency to sing 1/2 step below the target (I blame my propensity for that to wanting to play instruments keyed in b-flat all the time).  

I have learned that I am comfortable singing to contralto singers (e.g. Cher, Anita Baker). Still need to do my vocal exercises, though.  My former singing teacher told me that I had a huge range (I am now struggling with the high notes but that'll come back). 

No - I still haven't taken the tags off of that Squire bass.  

I'll eventually get around to that....someday. 

I signed up for virtual bass and guitar lessons.  Now, I've just got to get my own acoustic. 

It just doesn't float my boat.  At least it's not an Ibanez (those things sound like buzzy *censored*). 

My remaining aunt dropped off a bunch of stuff that belonged to her sister who died in March a while back.  I'm sorting through it trying to decide what to donate and where. 

There is too much stuff. 

My life is cluttered. 

I can't stand clutter. 

Today - my intention was to clean my carpet because my house smells like dirty poodle feet and lavender. 

I even wanted to paint the evil pink bathroom from Hades today.  I chose an earthy color that I would describe as a light sage. 

I'm trying to pack away all the stuff to take to the various charities who can rehouse it. 

I didn't get very far. 

*****
I awoke to an urge to check my phone. 

The moment I picked up my phone, a new message flashed across the screen. 

It was from my aunt.  

It simply said to call when I had time. 

Uh oh.....

She'd rather text. 

I call....

and learn that although my uncle beat Covid, it left him with a hole in his right lung. 

He's being transported to a hospice in Colorado Springs and not expected to live more than a couple of days. * (next day edit - he never made it to the hospice and died in the hospital.)

She's beside herself. 

This year she lost two sisters and now her brother.  She will now be the only remaining member of her original family. 

She's numb. 

She'll have a nervous breakdown when reality finally hits her.  

My cousins are upset.  We grew up together.  My uncle and his first wife would steal me from my alcoholic mother for months at a time and take up me up into the mountains.  They had a house in Indian Hills. I remember that the water tasted like morning breath (due to the high mineral content).  I must've been three years old.  I lived with him off and on for most of my childhood. He took me in when my parents died (at the age of fourteen). There was a stint in foster care when he was dealing with his demons.  

My uncle was fun. 

When I told my uncle that I had a crush on Andy Taylor (of Duran Duran), he thought I meant Andy Griffith (who played Andy Taylor on an old TV show), That always cracked me up.

My uncle used to call me a 'one man band' because I would play everything I could get my hands on.  I think someone gave a drum once, that was fun. He thought I sang well but was disappointed that I didn't take a music career seriously.  

We'd spend our weekends riding our bikes from Arvada to Golden and back.  He taught me about the system of bike trails in Colorado. 

Fun times....

His wife died.  He got himself a girlfriend who threw me out of the house and alienated him from his children.  My uncle became greedy with her in his life.  They literally stole my grandfather's estate BEFORE he died. 

My uncle and I made an agreement.  When he acts like an asshole, I'm going to act like an intense bitch who hires lawyers to protect the people she loves.  If he stopped stealing from people, I'd change my mind. 

My grandfather died a few days after learning that his son stole his life savings.  I was offered a portion of the estate but didn't take it.  In my mind it was cursed blood money. 

I can make my own money.  

I certainly made sure the theft didn't happen to anyone else. 

His wife died in August.  My cousins were planning one heck of a Christmas for their father as they had been kept from him for 33 years. 

My cousins are heartbroken. 

I'm numb. 

I've been sad and slow. 

Just kinda staring into space - 

I'll soon go back to the cemetery in my home town. 

I was there a couple of weeks ago to pray for my aunt Judy (the uncle's wife).  Funny.....my uncle had his name and birthdate carved into the headstone.

I thought it was a tad bit creepy.  

The grass hasn't even begun to grow on the plot. 

The reality is that Covid probably won't allow me to talk to him again.  My last memory of him will be talking to him while he was sitting his car stifling tears just a few steps from the grave of an old friend's parents. 

I'll never again, hear him utter the name of my mother and then watch him faint.  He did that once outside of my office.  He hadn't seen me in ten years and was shocked that I looked just like his sister.  That was in 2009. I met his wife outside the office a couple days later.  She confided in me that she was having trouble with her weight.  It didn't matter what she ate, she was losing too much weight without trying.  Turned out to be cancer.  She lived another eleven years. 

That woman was a fighter.   They moved to Florida shortly after that.  

There was no time to try to rebuild that relationship. 

I need to get better about telling people I care about that I love them. 

*****
Here is a truth 

2020 bites. 

I'm just too numb to know what to do about it. 

Love ya, 

S. 

Finally Free

 

Today I am thankful that the energy has shifted. 

I finally had a night without nightmares, worry, freaky dreams or visions about a person from my past. 

There were dreams of deep conversations with other men I've know for years - but nothing sexy, dirty or creepy.  These are the kind of dreams I'd be comfortable talking about within earshot of their wives and girlfriends. They were about wins these guys will probably have. 

After four months I'm finally free.  I'm finally me.  

All in all - I think all this has done is bolstered my true faith in the divine.  Perhaps I get the messages because I'll actually pray for the people they involve. 

Perhaps that was the lesson. 

I'll never know. 

*****

I'm still not sure what to think about the dreams of the burned body in the mountains knowing that my colleague drove up to Summit county and self-immolated in his car amongst the trees. 

Was it a coincidence or a premonition? 

It was probably a subconscious reminder to check in more often with the people we love. 

The image of his white Sonata with the yellow caution tape amongst the trees in Summit County is going to haunt me for a very long time. My mind automatically goes to greeting him in the parking lot when we arrived to work and then back to those dreams of a tall, horribly burned body surrounded by pine trees. 

The tears still fall but they are more sporadic now.  

RIP Richard.  

Yes, I'll hunt down some of those foreign movies and watch them in his honor. 

*****

As far as the identity theft, my HR rep caught it before I did and told her contact at Equifax.  Equifax took care of it by contacting the other two credit reporting agencies. I have police report (shocking, actually) and credit monitoring.  

That drama is better. 

*****
That Tarot Card reading finally makes sense. 

All I need to do is get some foam 

so I can prepare myself to get another baby.   

I'm serious - my adult kiddos have stolen what was left of my acoustical foam.  

Once I get my new license, I promised to reward myself with either a soprano sax, an alto sax or an acoustic-electric guitar with a port to make it easy to record on the computer. 

I gave my amp to the neighbor boy so he could practice his bass because the Jazz band isn't meeting anymore due to Covid. 

I may just buy a better amp.  

To someone like me, my musical instruments and recording equipment are children. 

Perhaps that reader was right on target: I'm going to get inspired to get myself another baby. 

Musical instruments are much cheaper than getting knocked up, especially at my age!! 

*****

Things are getting better. 

There is much more mental processing power to take in more research and data. 

I finally have more energy to scheme and ponder how to change the crap that is destroying our way of life. 

Wherever you are, 

may your mind be free of pain and ruminations over people who broke your heart. 

May you also find that which warms your heart. 

I work on all of the major holidays.  This year, I'll celebrate Thanksgiving with recovering addicts and their children. I look into their faces and celebrate the fact that they are still among the living. 

This year there is a lot to be thankful for. 

May you be blessed, 

S. 

Well, Someone has Stolen My Identity: Why would anyone want to be me?

 

Today I am thankful that no one can guess what the R. in my former name stands for. 

Shhhh.....It's Rumpelstiltskin.  

Yeah....yeah....that's the ticket. 

Thirty years ago, I left a creep who put me in the hospital and nearly killed me after bludgeoning  me with a hammer while bitching about his anger at his mother. 

Maybe I should explain his complaint...

I was raised by a woman who believed that the only value a woman had was her beauty and her sexuality. 

My mother was popular with men.  She looked identical to me (except she retained her brown eyes throughout her life and her bra size was 32GG). 

My sister and I were taught that men wanted ladies in public and Rick James' type of freaky girls in private.   

Funny thing, I was told that no guy would want me because I was the ugly ducking.  My mom wanted me to hit the books and to aspire for a doctorate.  This is what I did. 

Mom must not have liked how she looked. 

In late '87, I met a man during a robbery.  A seemingly nice rancher from Seattle saved me. His girlfriend was a decade older than him and his mother didn't approve.  So, he took me home to meet his mom and I was ambushed by a minister.  It took them three hours to pry me from the bathroom.  I succumbed when I learned that they flew my grandfather out there. 

I can't give too much away but that poor guy was really repressed. 

I mean....he was....repressed.   

I tried to let him fly free. 

As they say....

when in Rome...

do as the Romans do. 

The most vanilla thing a girl could do.....was something this guy had NEVER experienced. 

It was incredibly sad.  

For years (even after he finally signed the flippin' divorce papers - he asked me to do 'the thing in Idaho.') 

Very sad.  He was MUCH older than I.  

Seriously???? 

Ladies....all you gotta do is get the guy to drink more pinapple juice, it's not so bad. 

People are so selfish. 

Well....he was shocked and decided that he wanted me to be his mistress because I was more fun and his plan was to make his boring mistress his wife. 

Nope.  I don't do that. He became angry and started to beat me up.  

He destroyed most of my property, too.  

Of course, I was the one paying all the bills so it was my place and he didn't want to leave. 

He Hendrixed the bass my daddy gave me - he's never going to so much as hug me again. 

Don't allow yourself to suffer at the hands of an angry person.  They're not worth your time or energy. 

He became very threatening.  I left and kept my name.  While at my new place, I began to be subpoenaed to assault cases against him and he'd mess up my car the day of the hearings.  

So.....

I ran away, hid and changed my name to one I knew he couldn't guess. 

It was a very horrible name.  Basically I named myself while visiting a train memorabilia store at the Cherry Creek Mall.   My name was a messed up spelling of my true first name, my middle name was the name of a true to life railroad and my last name reflected a fictional one.  

It was bliss for about seven years.  Then the internet came about and he started showing up at my door wanting to relive that 1989 Idaho experience.  

I'm prude.  I wear high heels.  I like guns. 

He didn't get very far. 

The last time I saw him was 10-24-2004. 

He even tried to come into my house to change the light bulbs!!  Seriously!!!  Ewwww!!! 

I was hoping I'd never see that moniker ever again. 

It just brings up too many sad memories.  Especially since his former mistress/current wife will sometimes call me to ask me how to get him to stop hitting her.  

*****

Today I received an email from the Colorado Unemployment Insurance department greeting me with a name I haven't seen since the mid-nineties 

I also received an email from USBank Reliacard asking me to rate their service at a different email address. This is how unemployment claimants get their funds.  

Apparently they sent money to my old address on 50th under my fake name.  

Neither email address is publicized.  There is possibly only one man in the world who knows about that full name and both of those email addresses.....

He lived with me twenty five years ago at that 50th street address. 

They also know where I work. 

I just answered a ton of interrogatories for the Child Support Dept.  They sent them to my ex. 

They asked me for my employer. 

The employer listed on my LinkedIn is not correct.  

So.....

I am now the victim of ID theft. 

I'm pretty damn sure I know who the hell did this.  Yes, it's stupid to automatically blame the stalkerish ex-husband -but- they've done this before (kinda). 

In the past, his brother would list me as his wife and share my private information with his creditors (including my phone number and address which was different from his).  For years,  his creditors would harass me demanding payment. 

To this day, I still get calls from his and my ex-husbands creditors.  We signed the divorce papers in September 2013!  I think it's time this bs stopped.  

Now I have to close off my credit and file a police report.  

I tried calling both entities to report the fraud but I couldn't get through.  I finally get my credit up to the upper 700's and some asshole steals my identity. 

Crap....

I'll keep working on it today. 

Yeah - this is worth breaking out the black candles.  I'm toying with using white just in case it is a desperate idiot. 

I'll probably go black.  I miss the smell of anise.  

I don't need a name.  

Mark my words, they'll get their karma.   

Love ya, 

S. 

Edit Dec. 1, 2020 

I think there is a keylogger on my computer.  Now, they're using my credit cards. 

Been there - done that - just haven't had to worry about it since I evicted the ex back in 2016. 

Well - I guess it's time to get back to encrypting everything I type. 

When Things Are Freaky - Send Love

 Today I am thankful for love. 

I'm still having dreams of someone I should not think about. 

Now, they're getting funny. 

Yesterday the dream was a black and white stick-figure cartoon.  

In this dream, cartoon Siegfred was running from the right field of vision to the left. 

Followed by a tall, male cartoon stick figure 

and a chunky woman, out of breath, trailing behind. 

I wonder what my subconscious mind is cooking up now? 

At least no one died 

and the star of my nightmares is getting some exercise. 

(It's more like I'm a nerd who owes a Wookie life debt). 

This morning the dream was a little bit hilarious and funny. 

It was a cartoon but it was in color. 

In it I see a male figure riding a red mountain bike on a cartoon copy of a map of Colorado trails.   

I used to have a red mountain bike - someone stole it!  I've been meaning to replace it. 

He's riding around and little thought bubbles are coming up out of his head. 

"Her fatness could never keep up with me." 

"She is so out of shape that it's embarrassing." 

"I can lose her in a mile." 

On and on it went until I woke up laughing. 

I've gotta say - I don't disagree if that subconscious assessment is about me.

I'll still light the little white candles until the dreams cease for at least 30 days.  They're getting less vivid. 

I can tolerate that. 

Woo Hoo! 

I'm about to lose my mind with this Covid crap though.  Apparently, Colorado is taking Covid patients from other states and including them in our statistics as an excuse to shut the economy down. 

What the hell? 

I'm trying to send the Democrats love - but.....uh....sometimes with children, we have to discipline them even though we love them. 

This is the direction I'm taking. 

Tell me again why this isn't a dumb ass conspiracy to destroy the Republic? 

Geesh!!! 

I have another Covid Rant - 

Some of my heathen friends are Tarot readers. 

I did a reading. 

Don't do that. 

Why? 

Well - 

it predicted the impossible. 

So -  basically, it's a good thing that I'm a prude. 

She gave me the same warning my doctor gave me.  Yeah - so I have to be an Ice Queen in December because I want to look hot this summer. 

That's not a problem.  All of my clients are women.  I maybe see one guy a week and that is probably some guy at the gas station when the Hypnomobile is running on empty. 

Besides.....

I just lost 23 pounds - I don't want to gain it back. 

So - if reality breaks down and I find a cute guy, it'll either be a chastity belt or I'd better brave Covid and get some pills. 

I still can't imagine getting intimate at a time when everyone is afraid to breathe on each other. 

Seriously 

how do people have one night stands right now? 

Do they breathe heavy into their masks until they pass out from the lack of oxygen? 

Or do they just wear a different kind of mask? 

Or is this just a conspiracy to make mask-less conservative heathens mate? 

Hmmm.....could be the last one.  We have too many fearful liberals in Colorado now.  

If the perfect guy just wound up at my door.....during those rare moments when I am actually at home.....maybe on a Friday when I'm drunk off the wine of Dionysus......and he had lost his mind......had virtually no eyesight,,,,, and Ms. Medusa Siegfried turned him partially into stone......

nothing.....would......happen. 

People are far too scared of breath....bodily fluids....and life itself

Besides, my filthy house would be scary, too.  

I wanted to go into hiding.  

Thankfully Covid has given me the perfect excuse. 

Love ya, 

S. 

Exhausted, Tearful and Cranky (with edits)

 

Today I am thankful that I can actually feel something other than sadness...if even for a moment. 

I'm still having nightmares of a dead body burned in a fire up in the mountains.  I've had this dream for over a month (since Oct. 5th) 

A couple of days ago, I learned a dear colleague who had been missing for three weeks had driven his car up into the mountains and set himself on fire inside of his vehicle .  He possibly did this out of guilt for killing someone in a hit and run.  He was a very kind, empathic nurse. It's hard to imagine him not stopping and letting his victim die in the street**. 

This is the worst end I could imagine for anyone - let alone him. 

It's hard to go to work.  

I had to hold back tears when I saw a picture of this man's car on a friend's phone.  

I cry on the drive home.  

It will eventually pass. 

There are daily prayers for his soul and his family.  

I am grateful that it wasn't the person it looked like initially in the dreams.  It was a relief to know that he was okay. 

Then again, Rich was tall and had the same color eyes. The body was charred beyond recognition. 

I would have preferred that no one die in a fire.  

It took three weeks to identify Rich. 

It's hard to imagine that the dreams were a premonition.  It's just a sick coincidence. 

It's a shame I bothered the person I thought it was four hours before my colleague's name was announced as the decedent. 

This Covid stuff has me worried about everybody.  Wish I knew how I could be more of a support to those I care for. 

****
I got home around 0300.  We had a cranky soul admit so I stayed late to help out.  It's weird, I see homeless walking around the highway at 0245.  Why do they feel the need to walk so late at night? 

****

There was a very teeny tiny moment of joy for me this afternoon. 

Last week I had ordered what was billed as a brand new CD from Chaka Khan entitled "Funk This." 

Yeah, I love that title. 

It came out thirteen years ago.  I always wanted one but couldn't find it. 

I paid $12 for it. 

It came in today.  I was soooo excited to listen to it on the drive to work thinking it would distract me from the tears. 

Chaka Khan makes me happy. 

She wears her hair the same way I do. She makes me feel like my hair isn't disturbingly fluffy.  I have a burgundy fro (unless I wash my scalp with a lot of apple cider vinegar, then I have an orange top that morphs into a dark auburn towards the bottom). 

The only other thing I have in common with this great singer is that I can sing maybe two of the same notes she can (by accident on course). 

The bass lines in her songs are always kickin'.  

Other than that, I love to listen to her music and pretend I can sing something - which I can't.  So....if you're in the Hypnomobile and you hear the beautiful voice of Chaka Khan, take some earplugs out of my center console.  You're gonna need them if I try to emote.  

Or we could get you some wireless headphones and tape up my mouth.  

Today you wouldn't have needed them. 

I was smiling and happy when I unwrapped the CD.  The case was legit.  The CD itself seemed legit. 

The music was okay.  

It was mariachi music. 

When Donald Trump was first elected, I would have happily serenaded the Trump Towers dressed as a mariachi if I weren't afraid of the accusation of cultural appropriation. 

I love mariachi music. 

One of my favorite movies is El Mariachi (the old version - not the one with Antonio Banderas).  Back in the early 90's, I tried to learn Spanish by watching that movie over and over.  The protagonist reminded me of myself.  I wanted to be a musician but there was always some stupid troubling drama or injury that put me on a different path. 

I just wasn't cool enough to hide guns in my bass guitar cases. 

Anyway - I'm disappointed and sad.  I have to go to YouTube to get my Chaka Khan fix. 

It's not the same as having an actual CD that I can wail to in my car. 

Sigh.....

Love you lots, 

S. 

** NEXT DAY EDIT: The tears are still there but they are fewer and farer between.  A colleague confided that Rich told him the day after the accident that he thought he may have hit something but wasn't sure.  My colleague said that Rich was having trouble with his eyes.  That was the last day anyone saw him. 

It's hard to imagine that I'll never hear his beautiful voice awkwardly describe a gay sensual scene in a foreign movie ever again.  

He always knew how to make me actually walk out of a room to take a break so I didn't have that stuck in my head when I was trying to sleep.  I hate taking breaks.  Now, I wish I would have stayed for the story. 

May he rest in peace. 

Thank You Denver Voters

 Today I am thankful that Denver voters have repealed the pit bull ban. 

I'm not happy about the tax (aka needing to pay for a special permit) to keep a pit bull. 

At least the city won't be killing dogs based upon their breed. 

You can read about it here: 

https://www.9news.com/article/news/politics/elections/denver-pit-bull-ban/73-27366bd6-9a9e-41fb-8d43-94357854dc0a?fbclid=IwAR2OSj28z8-nlrgopfSWDEmKeAS4KWI5DcsBLMpn_h7T9Jy4FIFud-9N5_Q

Love ya, 

S. 

Suffering, Sobbing, Shaking and Screaming

 

I honestly have no clue what I am thankful for today. 

My uncle was admitted into the ICU today, possibly with Covid.  He was militant about disinfecting, mask wearing, hand washing and staying six feet away from other people.  I tried to warn everyone, it is stress that hampers immunity.  We can follow the CDC guidelines but we also have to care for our immune system be eating right, getting sleep and relaxation.  People don't seem to believe that.  He lost his wife in August, which is possibly the most stressful situation that one can face.  His immune system was hampered.  I really don't want to lose another relative in less than eight months. 

Three people I know have died since I last wrote. 

Two were colleagues.  One of whom helped me get a job to get me away from the stalking.  I never asked how he died.  It was implied that it was Covid.  He helped build my confidence and helped me get the job I have now.  

One was a former patient that I worked with years ago. He was funny as hell. 

The death tally since March is now 13.  Tomorrow it may be 14. 

*****

There is a death I learned about tonight that is really hurting me.  I really don't know how to try to type about it through the tears. 

I worked with a nurse.  He was twenty three years older than I.  We bonded over, of all things, the clarinet.  He played the clarinet with the community orchestra. 

He was GOOD.  Not like me - I'm too cheap to replace the pads.  If you don't replace the pads on woodwinds every few years, they can get squeaky.  

He also liked foreign films.  

He tried to coach me in psychopharmacology.   

He was hilarious. 

He was sweet.  There were days when I'd work 20 hour shifts.  He'd come in a couple of hours early and relieve me without being asked.  

It was always a welcome sight seeing him. 

When things got crazy and tempers flared, which was more common than you'd think in a mental hospital, he'd seem to take it in stride.  Several hours after the commotion had ceased, he'd have an loud, angry outburst and say something like "why can't everyone just be nice to each other??!!!" 

The last time I saw him was June 15th, I was being moved to another facility.  I had brought in 50 full size candy bars and soda pop that I bought at Costco for everyone.  I waved at him as I left.  He was eating something in the break room. 

I promised to visit.  

I kept that promise on a day when he wasn't working. 

He hadn't been coming into work since early November.  He was always hours early for his shift.  He often stayed late.  He was reliable....like clockwork.  

He lived alone.  No one could get ahold of him. 

When we looked at the Denver Post this evening, we learned what happened to him. 

He committed suicide by self-immolation.   They found his car on fire in Summit County on Nov. 4th. It took a couple of weeks to obtain his dental records to confirm that it was him. 

It turns out that two days prior, he was involved in a hit and run and killed a woman that was his age when she was walking her dog. 

He was a damn good nurse.  I cannot fathom why he didn't stop to help her. 

Maybe he was afraid of losing his job? Or his ability to drive?  

I doubt that he could live with the guilt. 

He must've been heartbroken.  Knowing him and how much he cared for people, I couldn't imagine what his final 36 hours were like. 

This is why I'm crying.  It hurts just thinking about how much pain he was in when he made the decision to end his life.  It's as though he wanted to punish himself in the most horrific way possible. 

When I saw his name in the paper, I let out a scream before my conscious mind registered what had happened. 

This is too much. 

*****
On October 5, I had a dream of someone I knew burned to death in a fire.  That dream upset me so much that I couldn't eat and lost 20 pounds in the course of two weeks. 

Now, that image is back in my mind. 

The only thing that I can think to do is tell my friends that I care for them as much as possible.  Some of the people I work with knew this man for many years, tomorrow is going to be a very hard day. 

Please don't take your friends and family for granted. 

For me, I'll be kind and loving as much as I can for as long as a can. 

Love ya, 

S. 

Pressure to Date

 

Today I am thankful for the realization that people just want to have fun. 

That's all I want to do...enjoy life. 

I think I only went on one date in my entire life.  It was with a cop.  I was bored so I asked to break the law by ringing the liberty bell on the capital lawn. 

He left. 

Bummer.....(not really....) 

There was a political meeting that turned into a date in 2011.  That was an unexpected disaster. 

I don't believe in dating. 

People will argue that point with me. 

I tend to "hang out" with people I meet in political, musical or educational settings.  By the time we hang out, we've worked together for weeks (usually years).  

I was far too old when I realized that guys who want to hang out with you are interested in you.  

It took a hypnosis mentor and several guys I used to hang out with to explain it to me in a Facebook intervention. 

****

I spent several years avoiding men because my ex-husband wouldn't leave me alone.  I'd tell people I was unavailable without telling them why (and confusing the hell out of them). 

No one needs put in the middle of stalking situation. 

I did some crazy crap to signal my unavailability.  Most notably, my habit of wearing a variety of rings on the middle finger of my left hand. 

It works like a charm with the sole exception of the married guys looking for a little something on the side. 

For the past seven and a half years since the divorce papers were signed, my neighbors have been trying to find me a "honey." It's to the point, I avoid those conversations.  If it comes up, I make up an excuse to exit the conversation.   

Now, my coworkers are in on the act. 

One darling woman at work wants to use her license to work with a specific population.  Today, I saw the perfect link on a social network, so I printed it off and shared it with her. . 

I didn't remove the name of the original poster. 

Sigh...

She noted his picture and stated that he was handsome.  She asked if the guy was single. 

Sadly, he is now.  It breaks my heart to know of his divorce. 

She asked how I knew him. 

Well, we are respectful rivals. This guy has the same kind of luck that I do.  If we do something incredibly innocent, we tend to get caught by reporters in what looks like a compromising situation. 

I told her the whole story.  She laughed. 

Is he nice? 

Well, when we were in the heat of our rivalry, he'd leave me polite notes with happy faces drawn on them. 

Now - she's trying to get me to go to events where I will find this guy. 

Uh - no.  I don't feel safe doing that because of Covid.  I don't want to freak out my boss and have her worried I'm going to track Covid germies into our facility. 

But - 

she told me that I've waited far too long to start living. 

Maybe she's right. 

Sometimes it's strange working with other counselors.  They tend to challenge our habits and the discrepancies that keep us stuck. 

****

The stalking appears to be over. 

The cameras around the house haven't picked up anything funky in months. 

I'm not really looking for anyone -but- I miss hanging out with my rabble rouser friends.  Most of whom are male and single. 

Most of us are too busy taking on projects and we often have little energy to do things that would be a quick ticket to hell at the end of the day.  

But we can certainly have fun. 

I miss fun.  

I miss scheming. 

I miss playing. 

I miss being obnoxious and inspiring others to embrace their inner heathen, too. 

Maybe my colleague is right. 

Covid be damned. 

Maybe it's time to jump into the fray and play. 

The best adventures are those we embark on without any type of expectation. 

Perhaps it is time for another adventure. 

I just need to figure out where I want to start. 

May you, too, find your adventure and live all of your days. 

Love ya, 

S. 

Letting Go & The Art of Manifestation

Today I'm thankful that I have learned an unexpected

 lesson in the nightmares of a man from my past. 

So....

Long story short....

I dream of an old friend from high school too much.  I've never admitted that he was my first love - as I give that title to my old T-40 (bass not the tank) - but, in essence, despite my denial over it, one could say he was my first love. 

The dreams are typically nightmares in which he is either dying or wounded.  In the dreams, I am helpless to do anything.  (Yeah -there's possibly some repressed guilt there, huh?) 

This has gone on over 33 years. 

The biggest problem is that I talk in my sleep. 

It's not so much talking - but screaming out "OH NO!  [GUY'S NAME]" IN HORROR! 

When the dreams go on too much, I'm told that I scream out "Oh no!  NOT AGAIN [NAME]" 

This has been hilarious when I've fallen asleep at parties that tend to go on for days.

This hasn't been so funny when it has happened in my few serious relationships.

Nope...

I've decided to sit out relationships until I can either lucid dream really well, stop talking in my sleep or go a year without a nightmare of this sort. 

In trying to find out the reason for the nightmares I've blamed everything from eating too late, visiting my hometown, taking prescription medications, Mercury Retrograde, subconsciously not wanting to get into a relationship and.....(don't know, I'm looking for a new excuse). 

Over the years, therapy hasn't helped.  I had one therapist tell me that it sounds like I "lost [my] best friend." 

I can't do anything about that.  

It's been so long, we are two different people.  Worse, we don't seem to like the same kinds of things anymore (one of us is a bitchy activist who is a below-average musician and the other is a dare devil). 

Sadly, when we visit each other, we catch ourselves falling into old patterns.  He worries about what I eat (or don't).  I worry about whether or not certain needs (that are none of my business) are being met. 

That's the challenge.  When the tension gets bad, something happens that embarrasses me publicly (to chase me away) and we go silent for many years. 

How can we be friends?  It's not going to happen.  I have accepted that. 

My subconscious mind has yet to get with the program. 

****

This go round, the dreams became vivid over the summer.  I saw him depressed, drunk, ideating self-harm taking him into hell, burned to death in a fire, eaten by wolves - just nasty stuff. 

These were vivid.  By October, I had these dreams nightly. 

I hated sleeping because I woke up in a state of anxiety. 

There were anxiety meds that had a bad interaction.  I swear they were making me psychotic.  Worse, they made me lose 20 pounds in less than a month because food made me think of the fire dream 

But - 

today I realized that while my mind was busy focusing on the possible reason for the dreams, 

other stuff I'd been trying to manifest over the past decade came to me easily. 

I was previously locked out of licensure as a counselor due to the age of my degree and a missing practicum.  The law changed creating a path for me in August. 

There are more offers for jobs than I can count. 

One job is in Longmont.  I've wanted to move there for awhile. 

Another job is in my home town. I wanted to move there in '08 when my ex and I were talking divorce. 

There is a lesson here. 

It's a positive lesson. 

If we obsess over something and overthink it, nothing happens. 

If he obsess over something else, we get what we initially wanted. 

Weird, eh? 

So - don't think too hard over stuff you want.  Obsess over stuff you don't.  Since I don't want anyone to die young, I guess I can obsess over that. 

Some may say that I wouldn't know if he died.  This person haunts my subconscious mind now. With my luck, this person would continue to haunt me after death.  I kinda hope that I kick the bucket first.  I'll do my very best to find my way into the light so I don't bug anyone. 

Love ya, 

S.  

Our Histrionic Media

 

Today I am thankful for discernment. 

First it was a man-mutated bat virus. 

Then it was killer spiders. 

Now, it is a killer asteroid with a sacrilegious moniker. 

Watching the news is starting to give me a headache. 

https://www.foxnews.com/science/god-of-chaos-asteroid-speeding-up

Why in the world is the media instigating fear?  

Please be mindful of where you direct your attention. 

We get what we focus on.  

Love ya, 

S. 

I found some Howard Jones sheet music while browsing Ebay.  I put a bid on it.  We'll see.  I'm too busy to check my phone.  I didn't even know it existed. 

Maybe this will help me move the creepy nightmares out of my head. 

The probability is near 0 that I'll get my synth back from the adult kiddo living in the basement.  I just bought her an acoustic guitar, so maybe I'll get lucky. 

((( hugs ))) 

NEXT DAY EDIT:  Originally, I joked about buying an Oberheim OB-X so I could play Rush's 'Tom Sawyer' to cover for the nightmares.  Then, I realized I don't like keyboards and I wanted to get myself something I'd actually play - so I went hunting for basses in CovidTown. 

Didn't really have time to play guitars that other people are touching. 

Then, I decided that I need to learn how to do music therapy and that bass isn't really the best instrument for that - so I thought about buying myself an acoustic electric standard guitar to learn on. 

But - now that my adult kiddos are hoarding the instruments (must run in the family), I'm really thinking about buying another synth. 

I think I'll just wait until the city opens back up to decide what to do. 

Besides, the dreams are not as nightmarish.  They are finally few and far between.  I don't think I'll be screaming out in horror until the next Mercury Retrograde.  Thank goodness. 

No - I didn't get the sheet music. 

There will be plenty of other opportunities, if I'd just open my eyes.  
 
I bought a book entitled 'Tao of Music'.  Maybe it'll inspire me. 

((( Hugs ))) 

Back to Life

 

I think I'm busy singing this to the Divine. 

Today I am thankful that I'm getting back to being me. 

 I had the past five days off.  I think the drugs are out of my system.  I'm feeling a lot better.  

The dreams are still there.  I have the dreams every night but do not remember too many details about them now.  They're probably just a sign and a signal to continue to pray.  When the prayers are answered the dreams will stop. 

It's okay to love. Even as it is unrequited, it may be able to help me find a lesson and/or create art. 

Outside of prayer, there really isn't anything else I can do.  I ordered a personalized gift to keep in my car just in case I run into him.  I may make a handmade card (if I can find the materials just in case) because the stuff at Hallmark is just too damn sweet, suggestive and emotional. 

If he lucks into never seeing me, I can donate it to Goodwill or something. 

*****

There is just too much to do. 

I need to get a new name for my business due to my upcoming license and changes to the practice of psychotherapy that will go into effect on April 1.  I have a couple of names in mind.  The changes may necessitate that I have TWO separate businesses (one for hypnosis coaching and one for addiction psychoeducation and counseling). 

I'm looking for a new job, too.  My hours are strange and I need to find a job that doesn't make it hard for me to socialize and attend political events. 

Every two or three years, I get an offer for a counseling job two hours from Denver.  That could be a possibility. There are some amazing political activists in the area and a lot of work to do.  I also managed to piss off members of the City Council in this area last year, so they know me - lol! 

Of course, there is always a lot of reading and research to do, too. 

I also hit a pot hole and think I need to replace a tire rod.  My car is a mess. 

There is always something to do. I can't allow myself to take any more time to cry over nightmares about someone who hates me. 

If I'm too busy to feel, the tears and worry will dry up. 

****

I did a risky thing today.  

I went shopping for art supplies today without make-up!! 

That's something that I haven't done since I was in the public eye. 

The best part is that NO one stared!  No one screamed.  No one fainted!  No one taunted me or called me an old lady. 

I might do this more often. 

Since I couldn't find the supplies that I needed, I'll be doing that sooner than later.  If that project works, I'm going to do it with the patients. 

Could that have been the reason for the dreams?  To inspire me to do something creative with the residents at the facility where I work? 

*****

My life is getting more boring and peaceful 

There isn't really anything interesting going on yet. 

On the bright side, boring simply means drama free. 

I still don't know what to make of the dreams - but- I'm thinking that if they don't leave, they may inspire some type of art. 

There has to be a lesson from this past that I can bring with me into the future.  I just hope I'm not so blind as to miss it. 

Love ya, 

S. 

Do I Dare Trust My Intuition?

 

Today I am thankful I figured out why I was hallucinating and having nightmares. 

It's the prescriptions. 

Damn it....

I have four days to go until the Adderall leaves my system completely. That is if I continue to avoid tapering myself.  

The only problem is that I'm tired -but- at least I haven't fallen down. 

It's weird to think that the anti-anxiety meds were actually giving me anxiety!! 

Wow - 

Of all people, I should have figured this out sooner before my dream life became a horror show! 

On the bright side, I can donate a ton of ugly clothes now. 

That quick weight loss wasn't worth the freaky dreams.  I look like a balloon someone popped with a pin. 

We're not built to lose 20 pounds in less than a month.  

So - 

I still have dreams that bother me - 

but I haven't seen any death or destruction. 

It's better. 

Whew! 

It makes me wonder if they put me on amphetamines when I had grotesquely creepy dreams of the same person in 2003 and 2005? 

I don't remember. 

Now that I think back on it, I was working on a research project.  Maybe they did? 

Why is this person the victim in my creepy dreams? 

He wasn't mean to me.   Why do I dream of the guy I'm protective of?  

Why can't I dream of the freak who almost murdered me getting hit by a semi, pecked to death by vultures, eaten by wolves, having a seizure, burned to death (or whatever the nightmare of the week is)?

The answer is that I probably wouldn't care enough about him to remember the dreams. The last dream I had of him was of him cheating on his wife and trying to drag me into his orgy. 

He's almost sixty now.  His wife is in her mid-sixties? They drink a lot and don't take care of themselves.....so......it's rugly (really ugly).   

Still....

The meds aren't worth it.  They're not helping if I spent 7 out of 8 hours trying to sleep in tears. 

I'll just go through the rest of my life acting like a squirrel. It tends to help me get stuff done anyway. 

Mindfulness is a better strategy for dealing with a lack of focus than medication. 

*****

It is still bothersome. 

First, it really awoke stuff in my psyche that I've been trying to avoid. 

It's nice to pretend to be an unfeeling robot.  I think after having all those dreams, that schtick won't fly. 

I'm embarrassed by my lack of understanding people I care about.  The fact is that, at times, I can get too caught up in what I'm feeling (and my confusion about it) that I lose the ability to intuit what is going on with other people sitting a foot away from me. 

Then there is the realization that I'm a jack-nut and have really done some stupid shit in my life.  Most of my stupidity comes from thinking I'm doing right by someone else (when I'm really not). 

There are times when I think I want to get back to giving speeches, buying a ton of musical instruments and play local clubs in some type of new age band, write books and run around railing at the wall the government has put between itself and the people. 

I don't obsess over dreams like that.  I used to.  I used to take ideas from the dreams and write songs, or use them to write articles and sprinkle in speeches. 

I'm a little scared by the kind of dreams I'm obsessing over. 

Maybe I need to put together a horror website on the dark web. 

Still...there are dreams I won't share with anyone.  Those are the ones I'm crying over. 

There is a lesson in them: We are to choose Love over Fear. 

((( Maybe I should write a song about it? ))) 

Secondly, 

I rely on my sixth sense to navigate the world.  I had a horrific childhood between the ages of six and fourteen.   My aunt and uncle saved me from the horror on and off since the day I was born.  Yes, I grew up as my uncle's daughter.  The horrors happened when I went home to my parents or those stints in foster care when my uncle was struggling with addiction.  

As a kid, I figured that I was afraid of everything.  I used to believe that this is why God gave me the ability to see ahead into the future - so I could prepare.  As I grew up, I explained it as my ability to see a path and project what would happen based on the premise that people typically are engrained in their behaviors which makes it easy to predict what path they take.

I know stuff I'm not supposed to know.  The Jungians I know claim that is a part of my personality (INFJ). 

Nonetheless 

I had premonitions of my mother's death.  I saw my step-father's suicide an hour before it happened. I saw my cousin murdered by having his jugular cut while he sat in his truck (but by the time I called my uncle, he was trying to reach out to me to say that my cousin was dead). I saw myself on a stage in front of hundreds of people in front of a microphone and television cameras (thought I'd be a singer - but that scene actually played out as myself acting like a political psycho-bitch). 

There are things I've seen that have happened (which I won't share). 

There are things I've seen that have yet to happen.

When I was a kid, I wrote poetry based upon the visions.  It's weird that many of them have actually come to pass.  They kinda got me in trouble when people read them thinking I'd done those things (YIKES). 

This is a trait my eldest daughter has.  When she was three years old, my ex-husband and I took her to her favorite restaurant.  She refused to go inside.  She literally opened the door, peered inside and turned away to walk back to the car.  She said that the people inside were scary.  Eight hours later, I drove by the restaurant on my way into work and saw the coroner's van by the entrance. 

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/1993_Aurora,_Colorado_shooting

That was one I didn't see coming  

The future is always fluid.  We can work towards a future different than one we envision for ourselves.  We can try to inspire others to live in positivity and light and live their best possible futures. 

The future is always up in the air. 

This time - due to the drugs - I don't know if I can trust my intuition. 

Were these intuitions?   Or were they just freaky drug-induced hallucinations? 

I don't know.  That one about the political activist dude in my house creeped me out - I'm more than happy to chalk that one up to a hallucination/delusion.   

Or maybe this drivel I'm typing is my remembering it through the eyes of someone with Adderall in her system? 

This is why I kept diaries. 

Too bad, I can't find them.  I'm pretty sure I threw those out a couple of weeks ago with all those fun clothes that I never intended to wear again.  This is embarrassing - I could literally rent a dumpster, fill it with clothes and still have more than I want or need. 

***** 

I know what I see when I close my eyes and try to dream. 

It's a little weird. 

Not sure how much to share. 

There is a vision about my creating a piece of art for another human being.  

Nothing fancy.  It seems to be a therapized type of greeting to remind someone of his/her assets. 

It seems pretty cool.  I'm debating making it. 

It's insanity to think I'll get this to the person.  

Still....if it turns out well, I think it would be a great thing to make with my patients. 

On the other hand, I really need to hit the books -or- break in my new guitar. 

At the spur of the moment, I signed up for a post-grad weekend intensive class. I thought it would get my mind off of the dreams. 

Nope - I still dream.  

At least no one is dying. 

I have an exam in the morning. 

It's probably time to find a new doctor, too.  

*****

This is my problem.  

There is far too much to do. 

I'll start three projects and try to divide my time between them.  I only finish about 80% of what I start. 

It's so hard for me to just do one thing at a time. 

I'll give the art project a go. 

If the lessons and ideas from the delusions are helpful, I'll act as if they are intuitions. 

No harm can come from them if I hold no expectations. 

I shouldn't feel guilty for caring and praying so long as it's pure and no one finds out about it. 

Witches have what we call a Book of Shadows.  We are supposed to record every prayer in it so we can reverse it if needed.  If some guy ever visits my house, it's going to be weird to try to explain all those prayers for random guys to find wives. 

You know....it's just another excuse to run away. 

-Or- I can destroy the books.  There is no way I'm going to forget those prayers. 

Love ya, 

S. 

Oh Crap! No Wonder I'm Crazy! (with another lesson)

 

Today I am thankful for education. 

Sometimes I'm just too dorky to utilize it. 

Over the past month or so, I have been sick.  I've been fainting A LOT!  I've been dizzy.  I've also lost an inexplicable amount of weight.  

I met with my doctor today who expressed concerns that I lost three more pounds over the past two days. 

Both of us were stumped. 

I had a difficult time standing.  He asked if I felt alright.  I shook my head, 'yes', because I've felt like this for about a month. 

It's probably anemia.  After that dream of someone I know being charred in a fire, I am having trouble eating much of anything, especially meat. 

Since I have a propensity for being an ungraceful klutz, I am bruised all over. 

My boss let me have a couple of days off because it's obvious I'm sick. 

*****

After visiting with the doctor today, I drove to the county building to answer the interrogatories from my ex-husband.  He'll soon know where I work.  I've decided that I need to look for a new job. 

I felt dizzy there, too.  

I can't breathe.  I have heart palpitations.  It feels like anxiety. 

Few things get to me.  I have given speeches about the need to reign in taxes in auditoriums full of liberals frothing at the mouth in front of television cameras and never felt a speck of sweat. 

I've had mental patients attack me.....and I can still be calm. 

I'm struggling with my vision.  My brand new bifocals don't work but neither does my old prescription. 

Worse, my cognition isn't as strong as usual. I'm buying into crap I never believed before. 

I'm actually believing that New Age drivel about love.  I never really believed in it before, which is why my aunt bought me the same book on soul contracts five times and I never read it until two weeks ago.  It scared the hell out of me so I donated the books.  

Today I kept hearing the same vintage dirty song everywhere; walking on the streets, on the car radio,....it even showed up on YouTube.  I never listened to that song on YouTube before.  Typically, I don't put much stock in coincidences. 

If you want further proof I'm acting like a psycho, I'm listening to 70's era country music (gasp); Ronnie Millsap, Terry Gibbs, Johnny Cash, Dolly Parton, Kenny Rogers, Charlie Pride and so on......

for me, this IS crazy. 

It's almost as if I've been possessed by the musical tastes of my mother. She died in 1984 and all of the songs I'm hearing in my head were songs released during her lifetime. 

Maybe they provide me a sense of comfort? 

*****

On the drive to the pharmacy, I wondered what the hell is wrong with me. 

I've seen other people with these symptoms before. 

It was very difficult for me to pinpoint the problem. 

I kept asking myself, 'where have I seen this before?' 

I got my prescriptions, Effexor, Buspar, Penicillin, Hydrochlorothiazide, and allergy medications.  

I drove home with the drugs, walked into the house and could barely stand. My legs were shaking out from under me. My chest hurt.  I had a hard time thinking. 

I was freezing. 

That is when I figured out my problem. 

I have Serotonin Syndrome.  

******
Last June, I saw a private doctor to get a simulant to help me focus and study.   My work hours are a tad bit strange.  I have trouble waking up.  I thought this would help me in the short term.  I have to take a huge test in the next six months which should triple my income. 

The dreams hit with a vengeance in July (even though they were less vivid prior to that). There is a certain type of anxiety one gets when dreaming of people she shouldn't think about.  When these people die in her dreams, it really freaks her out. 

The dreams were bugging me so much that I couldn't sleep. 

I needed to find a solution. 

So - I popped open the prescription I've had for seven years to deal with anxiety.  It was prescribed at the height of the stalking but I never took it because it makes me forgetful.  Every time I go to the pharmacy they give me a 90 day supply.  I just so happened to have a bottle of Buspar that I hadn't taken to the drug disposal center due to Covid. 

I started to take this as prescribed.  

Sadly, the dreams persisted and became much more vivid so I started taking the Effexor that the same doctor prescribed to me because I used to have panic attacks when I noticed damage to the doors at my home.  This was the same thing - I had the prescription for years but never took it.  When I accidently got it with my prescriptions, I'd take it down to the drug disposal center every few months. 

I thought the Effexor would help me sleep.  I started to take this every night at bedtime right after I had the dream about the death and destruction due to a fire. 

I've now lost nearly twenty pounds in less than a month without trying.  Apparently, Effexor and Amphetamines cause people to lose an incredible amount of weight far too quickly.  

Effexor taken with Buspar causes Serotonin Syndrome. 

I think I'll stop taking all that crap now. 

I wonder if I put L-Tryptophan in my vitamin cocktail? 

Oh No!  I think I need to dump out those vitamins that I organize every three months so I can take them daily. 

*****
Several months ago, I signed up for a refresher course in psychopharmacology.  I haven't taken it yet, though. 

I think it's time. 

How could I forget something so basic? 

This is why therapists are supposed to do CEUs, isn't it? 

Sigh.....

Funny thing...I frequently look up drug interactions when I learn my clients are taking new meds. Yeah, I'm also a QMAP, so I give out the drugs the doctors prescribe to my patients. 

I never thought to look up my own meds. 

*****
I'm wondering if all those drugs were the reason for the nightmares now? 

By adding more crap to the mix, I probably made it worse. 

Don't mix drugs.  Even IF they are prescribed by the same doctor, talk to the pharmacist so you don't run around in a drug induced state of confusion, barely able to stand and clutching your chest. 

I don't know who I've become.  Seriously - I don't typically listen to honky-tonk songs about someone's wife leaving, a dog running off and someone stealin' a pick-up truck. 

Typically I'm too busy to notice synchronicities. 

Thought I'd share in case it helps someone else.  Don't mix Effexor (Venlafaxine) and Buspar (Buspirone) with Adderall. 

My symptoms are mild.  I should be okay in a day or so. 

Stay Safe. 

Love ya, 

S. 

Same Day Edit 7:00 p.m. 

Well - this afternoon I saw the doctor who prescribed the amphetamine.  I guess it's rare but amphetamines can cause vivid dreams.  The fainting was possibly caused by drinking several cans of an energy drink (that I thought was fruit juice) per day.  I'm such a moron.  The lesson is to always read labels! 

She told me how to taper myself off the drug.  Those dreams are something else.  I think I might just have to pass that test the old fashioned way. 

On the drive home, I tried to drown out the mental chorus of Smoky Mountain Rain with Rude Boy (because that song makes me laugh). 

Why am I channeling music from my childhood?  My mother wanted me to grow up to be a Country Western star so I was inundated with old 45s spinning round and round from as far back as I can remember.  I barely escaped being named "Patsy." 

Maybe she knew I'd grow up to become crazy. 

I think I despise singing because of all that.  I possibly fell in love with the bass and R&B to spite her. 

Having sappy country songs spinning round in my head is possibly worse than dreams of an ex who hates me getting attacked by a pack of wolves (yeah...had that dream, too....in that dream, I tried to save him and those stupid bitches attacked me, too!).

On that note - gotta go pray.  

((( hugs ))) 

THANKSGIVING DAY EDIT:  

I had a colleague commit suicide recently in a horrific manner that reflected a dream I've had several times over the past two months.  He was a nurse.  Now, my days are spent in the company of other nurses my colleague and I worked with. 

I told one of the nurses about this issue.  She pointed out that I drink a lot of grapefruit juice.  Apparently, grapefruit contains an enzyme that keeps medication from breaking down correctly thus overdosing us on some of the medications (including Buspar). 

Then she said that I must've had Serotonin Syndrome back when we worked with our dearly departed colleague but she didn't know I was taking all of these medications. 

Then, I was chastised for quitting all of the drugs without tapering myself. 

Live and learn. 

So - read the inserts you get with your meds and go easy on the grapefruit juice. 

May you have a blessed Thanksgiving. 

S. 

Alaska is Looking Pretty Darn Good Now (with short correction)

 

Today I am thankful for options. 

Either people are stupid or the election process is rigged. 

I cannot fathom how Colorado could call a win for Biden within an hour of the polls closing.  I can't stand Trump and I remember Biden as a racist.  Either way, the people of this country are getting a shit sandwich shoved down our throats. 

Right not, my joke about moving to Alaska could actually become a thing to consider. 

Voters granted themselves an 18% residential property tax hike by defeating the Gallagher amendment last night.  I doubt I'll see any reductions in the rent of the office space I cannot use due to Covid and the order to socially distance.  Gallagher offset residential property taxes for homeowners by having business owners pay a higher rate. 

Correction 11/18/20: property taxes are going up 164%!!!  Wow....

Yeah, I'm thinking about subletting to someone who can use it the hours my colleague isn't there.  

*****
It's not all gloom and doom. 

Yesterday was a strange day.  In a nutshell, I woke up with severe pain in my groin and went to the doctor so it wouldn't get worse.  Turns out I have an infection and was given some antibiotics.  It's a girl thing that happens when one doesn't take enough breaks at work. 

At the office, a new CNA took a blood sample and forgot to affix the tube and vial to the needle.  I didn't feel a thing (It's a hypnosis thing - I can turn off some types of pain).  There was blood squirting everywhere; the table, the chairs, the floor before she or I noticed the mistake. 

Good thing I reminded her to wear gloves.  

I joked that it would have been funnier if this happened last week.  I also mentioned that blood letting is allegedly a good thing so maybe I'll be cured of what ails me. 

No one laughed. 

****

If I could take a pill to want guys, would I do that? 

Hmm....probably not. 

So the doctor had a weird tidbit for me. 

He was shocked my liver scan was completely normal.  At this point, he decided to tell me something he'd been holding back for a couple of years due to the fears over cancer. 

Apparently, I have virtually no testosterone in my blood. He starts of this conversation by asking me if I have "low libido." 

My response was "I don't know.  I haven't found anyone I want to be with." 

He shakes his head and lets me know that this is probably why I haven't found anyone. 

I don't know about that. I'm not looking. Besides, I've been burned by immature asshats for so long now, I'm not sure it's worth the trouble. 

For someone like me, low testosterone could be adaptive on some level.  My marriage basically died in 2001ish?  The reason for the question mark is that I kept doing crazy stuff to try to save it.  

Maybe it would be more honest to say it was on life support in 2001 but died completely in 2007. If your spouse's mom doesn't like you, you can't be with him or her.  If you're in a sexless marriage, this condition could be useful.  Right? 

To be quite honest, I've grown to like it this way. 

I always thought I had too much testosterone.  If you know me, I act like a guy.  I run into doing shit without thinking about it.  I forge ahead.  I am too much of a take charge person. 

I like guns.  I do my own yard work (when I have time).  I fix my own appliances until I have to pay someone to fix what I broke. I wish my car was a jeep or a big ol' truck. 

Eureka! 

Maybe that's all I need to do - go to the range, rent a jeep and take some DHEA.  I'll be fixed up in no time. 

The low testosterone could explain that hideous pink bathroom on the main level, though.  

*****

After the blood-letting, I felt a little bit dizzy on my way to work. 

I popped the antibiotic without reading the label. 

It's a sulfa drug.  I'm highly allergic to sulfa drugs. 

I now have a new pain and cannot breathe well. My tongue is swollen. My eyes aren't working (so please forgive the typos). 

On the bright side, there are no hives. 

Life is hilarious isn't it? 

*****

The past two days, I've gone  to bed around 5:00 a.m. sobbing because I am terrified to sleep.  My brain is broken.  My dreams are scaring the holy heck out of me.  Well, despite my best attempts at staying awake, I actually do sleep.  

The dreams were not bad over the past two days.  I dreamt of letters I need to write, products I'd like to develop and classes I'd like to take. .  

It's getting better.  

Thank goodness. 

I sure hope the prayers are working.  

If this is the last post, it's because I'm in the hospital for anaphylaxis. On the bright side, that's an easier pill to swallow than going to the loony bin. 

Love ya, 

S. 

P.S.  My doctor's office is calling as I write this post.  It looks like they realized their mistake. 

Well, no one is perfect.  It's all good.  I'm still breathing.  

((( hugs ))) 

Edit two days later: 

I had my blood work re-done.  There is NO issue with my hormones....None what-so-ever. That whole lack of testosterone thing was a little confusing to me.  I've been tempted to be with people -but- I've never acted on it.  I'm proud of my ability to maintain self-control - blaming a lack of testosterone takes away the credit I give myself. 

Don't let a biological fact ruin anything you're proud of. 

Love, 

S. 

Covid Flirting & Understanding That I Need Time (w/ edit)

 Today I am thankful for faith. 

Today was an interesting day.  I managed to visit all of the graveyards.   I still have an extra bouquet of flowers as I couldn't find my cousin's grave.  Justin was a political activist who died in his early thirties of skin cancer. He left behind three children (one of whom was adopted - just like he was). 

I did a lot of praying today.  I prayed for a few newly departed people, asking that anything keeping them in limbo be forgiven and that they'd be freed.  I asked people to watch over those they left behind. I thanked others for being kind souls while they were on this plane of existence. 

*****
On the drive home, I thought about vows. 

I made a vow as a kid to always be a friend to someone and love that person unconditionally. 

It made me cry. 

I didn't do a good job being a friend.  I'm hoping that the prayers help on some level. 

*****

I wound up going to a grocery store to get dinner for the teenagers.  I found myself looking at hair conditioner and approached by a beautiful 50-something man with brown eyes, salt and pepper hair asking for help finding prophylactics with a Greek accent.  We engage in a short conversation as I led him to the aisle and point to a shelf on the right.  He doesn't see it so I walk him down the aisle and get up close and point at the boxes.  I wasn't about to touch them.

Yeah - my excuse was Covid germs.  Another excuse could have been my latex allergy.  It was just starting to feel a tad bit stupid at this point.  . 

Then, he starts staring into my eyes and asks "Is there anything you're looking for that I can help you find?" 

"No, I'm good.  Thank you," I say as I start to run away. 

I lingered at the other side of the store for about 30 minutes before going back for my hair conditioner. 

Gosh, I'm stupid. 

How does one flirt wearing those stupid Covid19 mandated masks? 

How did that guy know I didn't have a huge beard underneath that blue mask? 

Isn't it weird how we get used to seeing people in their masks?  When we finally see them without the facial coverings, it's as if their chins don't match the rest of their faces? 

I was wearing one of my obnoxious fake rings on my left middle finger, too. 

I can't flirt right now.  I can't flirt after all of those nightmares and not being able to understand what the lesson my brain is trying to tell me.  I certainly cannot flirt after pouring my heart out while cleaning bird poop off of numerous headstones. 

My daddy wouldn't approve of my flirting.  He died in 1987 playing Russian Roulette. His headstone always seems to be covered in bird poop.  I'm going to have to go back and clean it when the sun is shining. 

*****
I finally realize what I want.  

Sex for the sake of sex isn't really anything I want or need.  I think I'll just wait until I find someone I can truly resonate with.  I'm not really in any hurry. 

I realized today that every person I've known well enough for that was a person I dreamt off prior to meeting him.  Maybe I should pay attention to the dreams? 

Except the ones I had the other day.  Politicians are not my cup of tea. 

Right now, I'm going to embrace my lack of desire and own my label. 

Apparently, our Governor dedicated a week to prudes like me.  I didn't know about it until today. 

When I shared with a bunch of people on social media, that my entire adult life has been dedicated to my awareness of asexuality - I got a lot of those laughing emojis. 

Why doesn't anyone believe me when I tell them I'm asexual?  

Sigh....

I don't know. 

Right now, I think I just need to go back to reading, taking classes and studying for my exams. 

Maybe I'll order my groceries online rather than shop until this Covid stuff ends to avoid the flirting.

When I can finally visit my home town without thinking of a certain person and go three months without dreaming of him  - maybe then I'll be ready to flirt and try to find love. 

Love ya, 

S. 

Edit Nov. 8: 

So....I think I pissed off Aphrodite.  I did my Friday ritual.  My prayers for others went okay.  Her candle stayed lit.  It was when I asked for confidence in love, that her candle went out on its own. 

Her candle doesn't typically extinguish easily. 

I tried again.  Same thing. 

My prayers to Dionysus were received.  His candle stayed lit for hours. 

Aphrodite....not so much. 

I thought it over for a couple of days before I looked at the last prayer for myself. 

It was October 31, 2020.  

I must've been drunk on Benadryl and Champaign. I asked for something different.  I asked for a lifetime love who I found attractive, who found me attractive, who practiced safe sex, would let me know what he wanted so I wouldn't inadvertently lead him on and would let me honor my religion.  

This was the day before I met that gorgeous Greek man with the beautiful brown eyes asking me to lead him to the condoms before staring into my eyes and asking to help me find something I was looking for.. 

Uh oh....I think I did it again. I possibly ignored another gift sent to me.
 
Um....next time I'll ask that he is gift wrapped and/or willing to take things a tad bit slower.  At this point, I think I've irritated the Gods of Love. 

((( hugs )), 

S.