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Ok, I WAS going to call this the snivel folder...prolly be more "truth". Oh well, I have the horrible feeling of being a loser, or at the very least that MOST of the "good stuff" is all gone by the time I get there. Faded glory and played out dreams. If I'm real honest with myself, I should be amazed... I overcame and learned to walk. I learned how to build houses when mine burned (with no ins.). nearly everything I've ever really tried to do, I could -- and many of them to the level of having "talent". But maddenly enough to me, none have ever proven a viable thing to do. I mean, I LOVE to find funky old houses that do not sell because they are so ugly or falling apart and make them nice... but it kills me... AND I could not afford the down, much less materiels and payments. I love to grow food (again, can kill me) and again... does not really pencil in the world of math as a clear gain always. I can do a fair number of things but nothing has ever done it for me. So, I feel unfulfilled and empty like i really am waiting to die more than living at times... no, I think it is more like so many good things are GONE. I miss idealism and innocence. I miss otimistic outlook or at least a can-do attitude. I miss having dreams AND the thought that perhaps they could come true. Most troubling about my life is the lack of friends. There is a place in this experience that not even my spouse can go with me. I guess with nearly a quarter century of disease, I am just tired. Rambling, yup. Some days it is real hard being a member of the belly button club. Dang, some of the stuff we do just disgusts me... I imagine aliens coming down here and judging humanity... and myself trying to deny being human. So i fit WHERE? Not in the preppy club... or the squeeky-clean club
So here I sit, late -- early? I dunno. Wishing I could at least sleep somewhat normally. I can only sleep in ONE position since getting hurt. Oh yeah, I still try to roll over in my sleep but I always wake up (and usually hurting). I tried explaining that to the inquisition. I treid to explain that I was just trying to NOT be hurting, bitter and angry. I tried explaining that I DO NOT WANT to be sick, or have to take meds. That I try NOT to dwell on it. That I TRY to look, act normal... that I DO have good days... but that other days I need every kind of chemical intervention deemed wise. What do I know about living my life, huh? Well, God made ALL the flowers AND the weeds too, so deal with it! I find myself sick a lot on sundays now for some reason. I don't go to sunday school anymore. I wasn't getting anything out of that and can quite honestly say early mornings are just too hard. Most people will buy that. Sad to me that church got killed too. Dang trolls! Trolls with lawyers... (now that WOULD be scary!) It really just makes me sad... and then I feel old, sick and helpless. Broken and forever wounded -- I'm a prozac poster child fer sure!
Oh, how I wish it woud at least get to normal temps here on a fairly consistent basis! It stormed all day today and i feel like boot scrapin's. And I am OUT of firewood again! dang it the "heating season" should have been over a month ago but it still feels and acts like Feb.
oh, i wish i had my old rummage sale reject hot tub!!! I don't need fancy or expensive...but all my dreams are so F--ing far away and getting priced higher. I can't even afford the building permits to finish my house. MDW decided to quit her career teaching and do daycare -- and I lost the loan I had in my bank account just to survive that disaster (she is back teaching again and I don't think I will have to endure another round of whining and pining from her on her job for at least another year or so). So, I have nice engineered plans... no permit... just a big ugly, empty hole with a broken hot tub and a tarped over fixxer swim spa. And of course no $$ to even fix either, much less the sauna I was gonna build. I get $20 a month like I am a kid. I have to justify every expense, no, I ask for permission if it is over $20. I have to feed six of us (sometimes seven) on $250 a month. I see people throw away $$ like it grows on trees. But I swear there is some sherrif john brown that says "kill it before it grows" when it comes to the money trees I plant. The one person I should be able to trust with anything and everything, I cannot. so, I stuff it all, deny it, ignore it... But I really want to scream at all the injustice... no, I want to ram it demolition derby style! I don't know how many times I have written crap like this and nuked it. Sorry to any unfortunate enough to read all this garbage... but thanks for letting me rant