I watched an anime with Corey last night that really tore me up. There's a stray cat that "adopts" one of the main characters and it's black and lovey and adorable little kitten thing, and through the few episodes it shows up you watch how it just adores this girl and she adores it and they're so happy together… and then it gets hit by a car, but it doesn't die right away. She finds it and it dies in her arms and she (and I) both basically lose it.

I thought I was over the loss of Bob and Cortes, but this silly cartoon brought back all of the grief as if it were totally fresh, and I have been mourning so HARD since then. One thing leads to another and I find myself grieving all the losses of my life at once, and I am paralyzed.

The really, really hard part is that if I had done just one thing differently, both might still be alive. With Cortes, I saw the puddle of antifreeze that had leaked out of Corey's truck before Cortes ever got to it, and I knew that I should sprinkle kitty litter over it to absorb the antifreeze so one of the cats wouldn't get hurt, but… I wasn't feeling well, and I was in pain, so I decided to leave it for later. I had the front door open to let in the lovely spring air, and that's how I saw Cortes lift his little face up and lick his mouth when he had lapped up most of that puddle of antifreeze. I didn't see him soon enough to stop him, but I had seen the puddle maybe an hour earlier and had chosen not to do anything about it, and he died because of my selfishness.

Then there's Bob Cat. He and I both grieved terribly for Cortes, he especially since they were litter mates and had never been separated. Bob had never been alone without his best friend before, and he would walk the house, crying for his brother. It was very distressing for both of us. He eventually got over it a little, as did I, but he didn't perk up entirely. I thought maybe he was still depressed, but he got a respiratory infection type thing and it lingered on for a few weeks. I took him to the vet to find out what was wrong, and it was discovered that Bob had feline leukemia, something he had probably contracted from some other cat in our neighborhood. I could have had him vaccinated, but I had chosen not to because we were struggling to pay for my medical bills already, and we didn't want to add vet bills on top of that. It's not an expensive vaccination, but I thought that I could gamble and win and thereby save money for my medical problems. My decision cost Bob his life. Both of the brothers lost, out of the blue. No warning. (Now I'm very paranoid whenever any of the cats seems to be looking a little run down or displays any kind of health problem.)

I miss my little babies. I raised them from newborns! They were my furry children and I miss them so much, and I hate myself so much for being so selfish that they died before they could even become full grown. My anger and my grief over my lovely babies of course brings up all of the feelings of loss and anger I've had to deal with over the past 5 years, and I feel like it's too much. I just want to lay down and not wake back up. I'm so tired, and I hurt so much.

I have been comforting myself with the knowledge that, had Bob and Cortes not died, I would never have gotten to experience the love and silly quirks of Fancy and Vladimir, both of whom I love deeply. They make me laugh often, and along with Juneaux I am often overwhelmed with their love and loyalty to me. I'm just afraid that I'm going to make a wrong choice somewhere along the line and lose one of them as well. Or worse, one of my people.

I'm just hurting. Hurting and worn down and tired and depressed and really, really frustrated all of the time. I feel like calling myself "princess warrior" is a stupid joke. There's nothing I'm dealing with that I can actually fight or change. I just try not to think about all of the crappyness, distracting myself with books or movies and such, but sometimes a memory or a feeling gets triggered and you just can't help yourself. Writing all this out makes me feel better, actually, along with the irrepressible and all consuming sobs and wailing.

I have some stuff for the weekend I need to get done. Hopefully it'll help distract me a bit, and I'll probably end up blasting some music that always makes me feel better while I work. Either that or I'll nap for a bit, THEN blast the music and work. I'd rather curl into a ball and just fade away, but I've already made promises, so… trudge on, I shall.

…now you don't.

I feel like I'm losing my mind. There's no other way to describe it as accurately and succinctly.

April was a hard month. Lots of pain that just wouldn't be budged, increased sleep walking, further weakness and increased discouragement and depression… and all that after getting my wisdom teeth out the month before. I cannot pinpoint a specific time that things turned for the worse, but that's always the case isn't it?

Nothing, though, nothing could have prepared me for the experience of this past week. I have trouble when I'm particularly weary with full body muscle spasms that jerk me around like I'm having a seizure, and I also have a tendency to fall into a half-sleep that's deep enough to dream a little but not awake enough to know that the situations are fictitious. I end up with these conversations I've had with other people, but they turn out to be one-sided. It's quite embarrassing, actually.

This week, I've had a lot of fantasy conversations, but more than that… I've begun hallucinating again. Auditory hallucinations are commonplace for me, and have been my whole life. I tend to hear music playing that no one else can hear but me, wherever I'm at. Visual hallucinations started as a child as well, because I remember distinctly having to take naps in my step-grandparent's spare bedroom on Sabbath afternoons, but I hated nap time so much because I was at least 6 or 7 and I wanted to be up and reading or something! The walls were covered with portraits of family members throughout the years, as bunches or singles. As I lay there in the afternoon half-light that filtered through the drawn curtains, I had nothing to do but stare at the photos and watch as they talked to one another. Their lips would move, heads turning, facial expressions would change; full blown conversations were going on, but I didn't know to read lips so I couldn't follow along. There was no way I could tell anyone about that, ever, because I knew that it would sound super crazy and the line of success/dysfunction that my family crept along was tenuous, at best. I didn't want to be made fun of or told that I was crazy, so I kept it to myself. I finally told my psychiatrist this past year, though.

And now we come to my current dysfunctions, the ones that are giving me so much trouble and leaving me questioning my own senses. In truth, the problems are much the same, but now they're the adult version, having apparently grown up alongside me.

One of the big problems with my diseases is the fatigue. Sometimes I deal with insomnia, but more often than not I sleep more than the average person is supposed to need to. When my mind is fuzzy with fatigue it is much easier to space out, but when I come to I remember snippets and snatches of conversations… or thought sequences… or were they dreams? Yeah. Dreams. That's gotta be it. And so it goes.

What will happen is that if a friend says something, I will formulate a response in my head, and then they'll answer, and I build the experience on the back and forth that comes next. Only… lately, I've been actually hearing what before used to be just thoughts in my head. And when that conversation is playing in my head (the one that stopped being relevant about 20 seconds prior) I join in with my retorts and comments, of course! To the other person, it seems as though I'm just spouting gibberish and nonsense, which, to be fair, is the truth when you can't hear the other side of the conversation. For instance: Drogo was playing a computer game he purchased through Steam called Elite: Dangerous. It's about space, but it's really well done and I love watching him play it. Yesterday, however, while I was watching him attack another ship in the particular solar system he was occupying, I noticed that there was some kind of theme music that seemed to "caption" each shot he laid on the other ship with a funny taunt laid out to a simple tune. (I don't remember any of this, just a few moments here and there.) I laughed at the awesome lyrics and said something about how I loved the captions to his shots, and he looked at me very strangely. I was like, "There is a song playing right now that emphasizes the shots your getting off… right?" Well, no. No there wasn't. And throughout this past week I have been hearing more and more things that aren't there.

I'll hear Corey say something and without really processing it my brain will formulate a response that just tumbles on out… and makes, like, zero sense. It's a lot like playing "Telephone", except that the other person has no idea that they're playing or indeed what they said in the first place! Often I'll jerk myself awake out of a doze because my body is trying to physically imitate what my shallow dream has me doing, like eating ice cream maybe, or handing a stack of paper to someone, petting the cat, whatever. The physical action has loud noises or words that accompany it, and the combo of those will jerk me awake so that I can try to play it off as myself coughing or rolling over or something hide, but a split second later and I'll be off chasing the White Rabbit again. Even if I'm awake, I can find myself grabbing for whatever is bothering me without realizing I've even done it yet, or suddenly breathing hard and blinking rapidly to jerk myself out of doze mode and back to the present.

The visual hallucinations, well, it's that moving picture thing again for certain. There are no portraits on the walls of my home, but there are plenty of other things to distract my eye. Generally, it is the movement of stationary things, like shadows scooting across the floor or at the outsides of my vision, sometimes right in front of me; spots of dirt or some-such, even the natural patterns in the walls or tile take on movement and writhe like small insects. There doesn't even have to be a pattern to it when all of a sudden a dark blot of movement streaks by your thigh, and  by the time you look over it's already long gone. Or how about seeing the blankets themselves move of their own volition right at the back corner of your vision, only to find them stationary when you whirl to look. Let me tell you, it is freaky when all of a sudden you think you're surrounded by bugs! Ticks and ants and other creepy crawly things! Aaaaugh! I'm always relieved to see the truth of that one. Another common one is thinking that I see one of the cats walk past and then be obscured by the table, but when I go to look at that corner there, it's empty. No cat there. Gahhh. Y'know, maybe I'm not crazy. Maybe my cats are just ninjas!!! Occam's Razor. Yep. That's got to be the answer, then. :P

Yesterday was bad. Like, bad bad. I was very actively hallucinating, more than I ever have before, visually, audibly, and with sensation on my skin as well. That one is common, but it never ceases to be startling when you suddenly feel drops of scalding water or ice water flick against your skin for no reason, or when you are positive that there is a bug crawling on your arm/leg/toe/face/etc. I am definitely going to be bringing this up to my psychiatrist tomorrow, but there are some other physical symptoms that I feel are connected somehow and are giving me just as much trouble as the hallucinations but are more alarming. My eyes… for some reason, they'll just stop focusing, and everything gets blurry, especially anything from the end of arm's length toward me. Can't read, can't write, can't tell which pill bottle is which sometimes… It's terrifying. Each time I wonder if that will be the time it lasts, that my vision won't revert. I don't know what to make of it at all. Frequently I will be struck with what I have dubbed "eye seizures", which is where my eyes won't focus right, but they're still mostly in focus. My vision simply shakes from side to side and prevents me from latching on to a more distant focal point. Eye seizures are for further distance, and the unfocusable eyes are impossible for

The next problem I'm having is that my legs will just collapse beneath me. As I mentioned before, I do sleepwalk, more and more intensely these days, and it has been while sleepwalking that I've noticed the most collapsing. More so this past week, however, Friday being the worst of it, I have a split second's warning that my legs are about to give way when I feel this pulsing throb of weakness that shoots through my entire being. As the spasm of weakness passes, my legs buckle after the apex and I must clutch something, anything to keep me upright. Even then it's not pleasant, for my heart is pounding, I feel weak and exhausted in every inch of me, and my chest is tight while my heart hammers away. Sometimes there's chest pain, sometimes no, but always it feels like a dark balloon expanding within my chest, and once it pops a thick, sludgy wave washes through me and pulls me to the floor. Dizziness explodes behind my eyes and the room swims around me in crooked, clumsy laps.

Even as I type, I am struggling with some of these things. The dizziness, the throb of weakness and pounding heart, the rapid drift back into dozing only to be woken up again and again. I snap awake, limbs shaking and heart pounding, eyes blinking rapidly and looking around for context clues as to where I am.  My lungs pull in the sharp, short breaths of one who has forgotten to breathe just a bit too long. My head jerks around, the ratchet movement keeping me awake for the moment, my outstretched hands moving likewise, rapid but aimless, as I find myself trying to grasp for a literal lifeline. The searing moment of clarity is driven into my skull like a railroad spike, but I know that all too soon I will be adrift upon the shallow, troubled waters of this unsatisfactory sleep.

Also, as a side note, I just want to mention that my mouth is all kinds of ulcerated and painful on the inside; sores on my tongue, roof of the mouth, cheeks; abrasions and tender and inflamed areas that leave me clenching my jaw in pain when anything other than water passes through my lips. My glands have been swollen for a week or more. I cannot feel much in the skin from my cheekbones down to my collarbones. It is cold, and it is numbed, though I know not how. My memory is absolutely shot. I lose track of sentences while I am speaking, fumbling to a stop because I'm not sure how I wanted to end it, much less what the idea I was trying to convey was. I finally got my first menstrual cycle since December, which had me freaking out and hoping I wasn't pregnant and that the tests I took weren't faulty. I think I really scared Corey yesterday with my inability to remain standing and the severity of my hallucinations. Sometimes I can play it off like I'm talking to the cats, but usually not so much.

Oh! I broke my phone last night. See, the twitches aren't just about my legs jerking around as if they'd been hit with the rubber reflex mallet. That's part of it, but another, much bigger problem is that I will be holding something normally, say a mug of tea or a bowl of cereal, but suddenly my entire arm with jerk wildly and I now have hot tea all down my front, or a puddle of cereal and milk in my lap. It sounds funny to read, I know, but in actual practice? It sucks. Do you have any idea how many times I had to start the washer recently?! Too many. Anyway, yesterday I picked up my phone from the couch, and bam! Arm and hand jerked, my (admittedly ghetto) phone flew to the tile flooring in a very direct manner, and it broke in half, exposing the guts. Later that night I figured it out (still not sure how, really), and while I'll need another phone, I still have this one… even if it is being held together with black electrician's tape ;)

So that, my friends, is what is going on with me right now. I don't know where the boundaries of reality and fantasy intersect anymore, and I genuinely feel like I might be losing my hold on reality. Seriously… how scary is that?! All I know is that I keep resurfacing, gasping for breath and shaking my head rapidly to clear it. It works for a few microts, but it's scary as hell because down, down, down I go as soon as I'm not actively forcing myself awake. Even so, there are times that doesn't work either. How can I trust anything anymore when I can no longer rely on my 5 senses to guide me? Funny how the brain is so powerful, but not powerful enough that it can escape when turned upon itself, eh?

It's so strange to be filled with this overwhelming feeling of nostalgia, as if I am overflowing with a past sense of myself. I swear that these past few days, I've been transported to my years as a teenager. I couldn't say why, absolutely cannot put my finger on it, but… I still feel like that old ghost of myself, wandering around empty halls in search of…?

It could be the crazed nightmares, the fact that Corey is gone and not around "all the time" like he is normally. That's quite reminiscent of my teen years. Most of my dreams have been about lack or loss of control, about danger and physical harm and incidences of great stress. Could be that I feel a little lost, a lot exhausted, very unsure of things and myself and just plain done. Tired of being an adult, so I regress?

It's strange, falling asleep at 8 pm because I'm wiped (again, and after being awake only a few hours) and waking up at 1 am, shuffling out to the familiar scents of my own home but feeling disoriented, empty and weepy somehow, as though disaster has struck elsewhere and yet I'm still affected.

I'm wrapped up in a blanket on the couch, watching Dirty Dancing for comfort. Something about the music and the sight of Patrick Swayze grinding his hips every which way is soothing ;)

I have this sort of premonition feeling that this trip I'm taking in a day or two is going to be important for me, personally, for my personal growth somehow. I haven't really gone off on my own since I got really sick, so that could be part of this strange feeling and the anticipation/loneliness that I'm feeling.

I tell you, it is just strange to feel a decade younger again all of a sudden… especially when that past self and current self are overflowing with a sense of… um… whatever it is? Above and through it all, though, is the same sense I had as a teenager, and that is a desperate and deep craving to be loved intensely and obviously, wholly and completely, in a way that makes me feel totally safe and surrounded, like a song or a movie. Totally unrealistic I'm sure, but the craving is still there (and probably exacerbated by a month plus of celibacy). And it's been there my whole life, the stage of uncertainty set by abuse and neglect and a casual indifference of my specialness. So we're back to that, and I hope this time to move through it with strength and purpose, or at least just an awareness.

I really don't care to be a teenager again. Too much uncertainty. It's funny how we pretend that it goes away when we become adults. I don't think it ever does, really… Heh.

So after 2+ years of being on gabapentin ("Neurontin"), which is a psychoactive drug used to treat epilepsy and neuropathic pain, I finally decided that I wanted off. I mean, my dose had been increased several times throughout the years with still no help for the pain and too many negative side effects for me to want to take it any longer, especially if there are no benefits to outweigh the risks or negatives.

I tapered down after telling my neon pain doc that I wanted off, which she instructed me on how to do, but I was already not doing well because I had yet another instance where I was forced off of pain meds for a few days. It was a crappy week +, but then the night that I took my last dose I started feeling really, really awful. I thought it was just a bad bout of "fibro flu" at first, but as my symptoms continued to worsen and I was the sickest I could remember being in recent memory, even worse than when I had just been going through pain killer withdrawals. I told Drogo the second night when he got home from work how awful I was feeling, and how it just felt like really bad withdrawals and… then I kind of got an idea. I did some research online real quick (thinking that it may have been something to do with seratonin toxicity, which can be SO dangerous), but the only real change had been quitting gabapentin. My symptoms lined up perfectly, and I thought that I might be able to persevere at home now that I knew what I was up against. You know what I mean? It's just easier to fight a known enemy, even though I still felt increasingly worse. (And really? Going off of this med with no warning whatsoever that withdrawal symptoms were coming, much less that they'd be so virulent?! It was a very nasty surprise… but in retrospect, I should have totally seen it coming. Oh well.)

I had a doctor's appointment with my GP the next morning, and she was concerned. She wanted me to go to the ER for monitoring just because of the severity and concern connected with many of the symptoms, most importantly bad chest pain and very low (for me) blood pressure with severe and consistent near syncope upon movement. (I actually collapsed/passed out in front of CVS right after the appointment, but Drogo was there to catch me and lower me to the ground. I really gotta stop collapsing in pharmacies.

We decided not to take me into the Emergency Room because, even though insurance covers a lot of the expenses… the hospital is NOT a cheap place, not by any stretch of the imagination. Khal Drogo was stuck in a hard place, seeing me so sick and knowing that I really ought to go in, but looking at the long-term of our financial situation and just feeling that, well, we can't swing it. Ever watch Cinderella Man with Russell Crowe? He finds himself in similar situations as he struggles to feed, clothe, house, and keep his family healthy in the midst of the Depression. It was not easy to watch Drogo wrestle with the decision… it hurt me to watch him have to make such a terrible choice.

A few hours after my appointment, however, I was still worsening, and fast. I texted mom and RDad to tell them what was going on, mom called RDad, and Rdad called Drogo to tell him that finances weren't a concern. Get me to the hospital. The timing was great, because I had just texted Drogo from the bedroom saying that "I am getting worse, and I don't know how much more I can take." I broke down crying about that point, because while I deal with a great amount of pain on a regular basis I am also worn down from doing that for so long without any significant relief at all. The "regular" pain combined with the awful withdrawal symptoms and pain was just too much for me, and so on the 3rd day of withdrawals I ended up in the Emergency Room. I hadn't been able to eat hardly anything the past few days, and that morning I'd only had a small applesauce snack cup, so I started getting pretty ill from not being able to eat while in my ER room in the back. In addition to that, I wasn't allowed to take my own meds and so the time for pain killers came and went… and my pain (a 9.75 when I came in to begin with), skyrocketed. I finally fell apart after a few hours, especially after having to get up and move around for x-rays, and I started sobbing and wailing uncontrollably which lasted for an hour or two before I was given something that took the pain back down to manageable (about 9.5 again).

Yesterday was kind of a blur, but I know I was eventually admitted and I haven't broken down crying since. The pain has been bad, don't get me wrong, but below a 10, and I am okay with that!! LOL. During initial triage, the nurse that was trying to take my blood and put an IV in just wasn't doing a good job somehow. The tourniquet hurt like nobody's business, driving my already high pain up, and then she was digging around with the needle and tapping on it for over a minute before I told her to just use the other arm. I couldn't handle the tourniquet pain any longer. She hit a nerve (twice!) as she pulled out and I couldn't help but scream and start sobbing again. I actually blacked out for a split second because it hurt so badly. It startled me.

I've had some great nurses, though, and the doctor who saw me was good. Professional. Friendly, but genuine. He's keeping me overnight again, since I'm still so symptomatic and not doing well… sending me home would not be a good idea right now. I feel much safer and way more comfortable here, with regular medicine application, constant saline drip in my IV, nausea meds, and a type of synthetic opioid, methadone, that is actually used in detox programs for opioid addicts. My pain is still hanging out in the 8-9 level, but that's "normal" for me anyway, and my pain is being aggravated by all the other stuff so it's not a big surprise. I'm getting the methadone and tramadol, as well as IV solu-cortef, which is what's in the "stabby stabby" that I have to administer when I get into an accident or whatever to avoid adrenal crisis. It is more potent than the tablets I normally take, and I can feel it keeping my body more relaxed and stable. It's nice. I thin that was part of why I "collapsed" in the ER as well, because my adrenals were shorting out or whatever on top of everything else. I wasn't allowed to take my meds, remember? It was a nightmarish afternoon. I can legitimately say that I have not been in that much pain before in my life, except maybe in small, short bursts. I was waiting to pass out from the incredibly high pain levels and my utter fatigue (especially after sobbing uncontrollably for a prolonged period of time, and being so weak to begin with when I was brought in-- couldn't walk, could hardly sit up at all).

So… it's been a fun adventure. I feel awful, yes, but not as awful as I would if I had just tried to make it at home. I mean, I did try, and I made it as long as I could, but I just kept worsening instead of stabilizing or improving, and there's only so much a person can take, ya know? I'm so grateful for the intervention of Mom and Rdad on my behalf. I'm honestly and genuinely glad that I was admitted and that I'm being taken care of. This has actually done a fair deal toward improving my totally bleak perception of medical care here in my town, and in the hospital/ER in particular.

I haven't been able to sleep more than 2 or 3 hours since I've been here (or even the day before), and I keep waking myself up with dry heaving when I do manage to fall asleep, but I'm going to maintain a valiant effort to crash the heck out. I'm SO. TIRED. Hah.

Before I go tho, let me take a selfie… LOL. I figured I had to commemorate such a momentous event. Plus my hair looks freaking fantastic, rolling around in the hospital bed this whole time :D

How's my pain? It's over 9,000! LOL

Look! I'm a fall risk! First time for that… means I'm not allowed to stand up on my own.

A whole breakfast tray of… nothing I can eat. I learned how to order whatever "safe" food there was before my tray gets brought up pretty quick, and Drogo has been bringing me safe food from home so I can eat little bits when I'm hungry. Still can't eat much yet, abdominal cramps and nausea too bad.

But they gave me Sprite! Rock on, nurses.

Peace out, homies and fellow Spoonies. May your spoons be plentiful, and take care of yourselves, yeah? I'll stick to doing the same over here.

I can't even... I just can't. I'm done. So very, very done.

I didn't sleep last night. (I should be trying to sleep now, but the pain is hammering away at me and I'm thoroughly distracted by it.) I was definitely at a 10 on the traditional pain scale, and having a full body twitching episode to boot. C held me while I cried. Well, ok, I dozed some eventually... but I kept waking myself up with cries and moans of pain and alarm. My PTSD symptoms have been escalating gradually over the past few days, and I'm not sure why. They've been interrupting my sleep, and last night was particularly bad. I've been anxious, too... jumpy. Whatever.

Anyway, I wasn't able to drive because I couldn't lift my arms or turn from side to side, but a friend picked me up and took me to my doctor's appointment. While there, the endocrinologist proceeded to exclaim over how I've gained 17 lbs in the past 3 months.

Great. Thanks, doc. I knew I'd been gaining weight, and I'm trying to eat healthy so as not to gain unnecessarily, but I'm pretty much in enforced sedentary mode, here. Not to mention that the Lyrica made me gain some weight, and I never lost the weight I put on from eating all those damn cookies (oh, those delicious cookies!)...

So anyway, I went in feeling crappy and exhausted and miserable and in pain and came out feeling even worse about myself.

I'm so done.

I'm sinking lower and lower into the pit of depression that I recognize oh-so-well... and I feel like I'm too weak to even try to pull myself out, or slow my descent at all. If anything, I welcome the abyss. It's familiar and painful and maybe this inner pain and shredding self-hatred will distract me from the physical pain that is leaching the color from my life and the life from my soul.

Playground school bell rings again
Rain clouds come to play again
Has no one told you she's not breathing?
Hello, I am your mind giving you someone to talk to
Hello

If I smile and don't believe
Soon I know I'll wake from this dream
Don't try to fix me, I'm not broken
Hello, I'm the lie living for you so you can hide
Don't cry

Suddenly I know I'm not sleeping
Hello, I'm still here
All that's left of yesterday

It's really amazing how important body fat is, especially in the face. When you see someone with no fat at all, you instinctively assume they're very, very ill.

In D's case, that's true. I've come to my own conclusions on the matter, after gleaning info from the girls and from C, and... I really don't expect him to live much past the wedding. He will not be able to attend, that much is clear (even in the state he's in now, he wouldn't be able to attend), and C will be staying with him. He should not be by himself in this state. Honestly... I'd give it two months. Max. I think that the wedding may be a time of deep joy, but also deep sorrow, as I think that D will be passing away about that time. I know the girls are planning to come down and play music for our wedding, but they may choose not to if D passes away. I understand, and I'll be planning back up music. The only major hitch in that is that my wedding coordinator is planning to travel down with them, and if they don't come she can't come, so I don't know what I'll do... probably hand the reins of the day off to Mom and/or D, who I'm sure will work beautifully in tandem. Mom will be walking me down the aisle, so D will probably take the bulk of the work... and I'll be there to help decorate and such... it's just making sure the ceremony and reception run smoothly, and the clean-up afterward. I'll make sure to talk to them and to H about this possibility.

I don't know when to talk to D seriously and say my "parting words"... I'm thinking about writing him a letter, because I do better in writing than I do just saying things... I'd give him the letter a day or two before I leave, to give him time to respond or bring up the topic if he wants. I need to tell him how much I love and appreciate him, and what he's meant to me as a father.

Good grief, I'm tearing up just thinking about this... Ugh! Stupid emotions! Go away!!!

Yesterday was interesting, but fun. I spent two plus hours wandering the local mall while K and C were in a bank setting up accounts for the two of them. The reason it took so long was that the bank lady walked K through every step of dealing with her account, so she would understand it all, and it went really well. I didn't mind. I ended up wandering into a jewelry store called Harry Ritchie's and talking to a saleslady with the same name as me! She cleaned my ring for free, and it looks like new :) Anyway, as we talked about wedding bands for C and how to customize a ring for him, she told me about the company and their policies and what they offer customers, and I was extremely impressed. They take great care of the people who buy from them and the jewelry they purchase, and I decided that's where I'm getting C's ring from. I ended up browsing the ladies' wedding sets as well, and fell in love with blue diamonds. I know C has an idea of the ring he wants to create for me, and he really wants to get me a diamond, so I want it to be blue. The color is phenomenal-- it reminds me a lot of a London Blue Topaz-- and they're cheaper than your standard clear diamonds.

While browsing the rings, I found one that I absolutely fell in love with. I mean, head over heels. I know, I know, C wants to create that certain ring for me that he's got in his head, but man... this ring was just... *sigh* I dunno. I can't find the exact one online, but I found a couple that look really similar, and one even has blue diamond accents! I'd want the center stone (which wasn't actually one whole stone, but a bunch of little ones that actually looked like one super-sparkly stone. I didn't notice it wasn't one stone until about 5 minutes into examining it!) to be a blue diamond, and the rest would be fine as regular white diamonds. Here she is:

It looks most like the top ring, but the diamonds were farther down the swirls, so it was metal swirls above and below with diamond accents on the sides. The center stone was bigger, though still round, and made up of a bunch of little diamonds, and I would want blue diamonds (see bottom ring). It had the little accent stones on the sides that were kinda triangular, and looked like little leaves. It was just so simple, dainty, and gorgeous... *sigh* I told C that I found a ring I love :) Though it is expensive (or at least seems so to me!), it isn't, as far as diamond rings go (and when you think about the fact that I'll be wearing it every day for the rest of my life, it kind of puts it in perspective), plus it's usually on sale, and they also have promotions where you can get money off of your purchase in addition to in-house financing. The only problem is that for the initial purchase and creation of the ring, you need to be in the store. After that, you can pay over the phone, but the purchase needs to be in person. Aaaaand, they're only a northwest store.

Oh darn. Guess that means I have to drag C up here ;) (Like I've been planning to...) I'm going to show him the ring online, and we'll see what he says about taking an ID trip sometime this or next year.

But I overdid it yesterday, what with doing yoga and running errands and walking the mall for a couple of hours, and then giving a massage on top of that... Oh, I am feeling it today! And I had coffee yesterday... bad girl, I know. I need to be good to myself... but I felt like being good to myself yesterday was allowing myself a treat. And it sure was delicious :)

I'll be seeing H later today, and we'll be going over wedding stuff... so excited! Last night, after errands were all finished, we ate supper and were going to watch a movie but couldn't get the tv working. Instead, we all sat around and talked, and it was really good. W, J's intended, was there, and I got to know him a little better. (He was the one I massaged, after all!) Of course, the topics turned to theology, but it was cool because D got really into the conversation, and it was like I could see the old D just shining through again. It was a good feeling.

Also, while at the mall, my friend L from this area called me, and we had a really good conversation. I have a few guy friends that I can have real good convos with, like JC, and L (to my surprise!) turned out to be one of them. We talked for a good 45 minutes before I had to go because I got another call. He told me all about how he met and married his wife, who is a total sweetie, and we talked about how I met and got together with C, and we talked theology and church, and we actually believe much the same way. It was a relief to know that I'm not the only one who's studied and had experiences and come to the same conclusions! It was interesting, too, because some of his comments about convos we've had in the past and conclusions he drew from them showed me that he is actually very, very insightful, and he's basically got me pegged, even though I didn't realize it :) I also realized that I give away a lot more of my inner life than I previously thought. I'm not as inscrutable as I think that I am. Alas. lol

So it's been good already, being here, and I'm very glad I came... no matter how difficult it is to see D this way. At first, I felt like the D I knew was already dead and gone, but last night showed me that he's still in there... buried under layers of suffering. I understand how that is in a lot of ways, because the fibro had me so beaten down with fatigue and pain at one point that I didn't even realize I wasn't myself until I got on the meds that have helped buoy me back up closer to normal. For D, though, there will be none of that. At this point, the only release he will have will be death... and I almost wish it upon him.

He's in so much pain... he's so sick... I don't like seeing him suffer so. I know he wants to hang on, which is why he wanted to try the chemo, because I mean, who wants to die? Of course he wants to stick around as long as possible, to see his girls get married, to spend as much time with his wife as possible, but... I mean... he's so sick. I almost wish he'd give up, if only for his sake.

And I feel like a total traitor writing that. It's one thing to wish your enemies dead, but to wish your loved ones dead? It's a strange, strange feeling, even if it is motivated by love.

Ugh. Ugh and Argh. I'm tired of fighting back tears, and I'm tired of crying, 'cause here I go again.

Damn. I knew this was gonna be hard, I just didn't know how hard. At least when Larry died a few years ago, it was sudden. There was nothing any of us could have done. I didn't get to say goodbye, but he didn't linger, and he was the happiest he'd ever been when he went.

I'm so glad I don't live here anymore. I'd be broken beyond repair. Even now, I feel myself cracking...

Oh D... I don't want you to go, and yet I don't want you to stay if it means you have to live like this...

This? This is... yeah. I'm fairly certain that this is hell.

Woke up from a nightmare last night.

I half sat up in bed, peering blearily around the room, not really sure of where I was. After a split second, though, I knew. (Much to my relief!)

C, on the computer next to the bed, noticed and asked me what was up. When I told him I'd had a nightmare, he laid down next to me, wrapped me up in his arms, and proceeded to soothe-talk me. The only thing I really remember him saying was, "You're always safe here." That, and "I love you, my sweetness." Or something like that.

As I drifted back off to sleep, I kept starting to go back there, to the scene of my nightmare, picking up where I left off. I did not want to go back there, so I tried to get my mind off onto another track by mumbling questions at C.

What's your favorite color?

You know me... anything on the dark spectrum.

Where's your favorite place to be?

Right now it's right here.

Awww, that's sweet...

Etc.

I drifted off fairly quickly, woke up at the time appointed (my alarm went off), and then realized I was much too tired to function, so I went back to sleep. (I actually did go back to the nightmare scene, but I changed it. I escaped.)

I slept for twelve hours last night, and I didn't even go to bed late! I put myself to bed at a good hour, because I had noticed that when I went to bed before/around midnight, I was able to get up in the morning and feel more refreshed and energetic, without the sluggish energy crash in the late afternoon that I've become accustomed to. Also, I struggle with less negative feelings throughout the day. Well, Friday night I made the mistake of staying up until 4 a.m., and yesterday I was feeling irritable and sluggish all day.

Maybe my body just needed to catch up on what I missed Friday "night"?

Either way, I'm discovering that I like to be up at 8, 9, 10 am. Anything later than 10 I don't care for. Maybe I'm more of a morning person than I'd thought?

Today I'm still feeling "bleh", though. Nausea, mostly... a general queasiness. And very frequent loose stools, yesterday and today... the past couple of days, actually. Maybe I'm fighting something?

I still need to take a shower...

Fortunately, today is Read Books day-- I'm trying to research and prepare myself to be a better facilitator for group. Is hard. (Read the last "sentence" with an accent, if you please.)

Honestly, I feel really intimidated by the task of facilitating, now that I've realized I made a bunch of mistakes. I want to be able to help these girls... and yet I don't really know what I'm doing! #frustrated

If only I had some sort of training to fall back on... but I don't. Only my own experience and what I've read.

I've just begun a book on the neuroscience of the teenage brain (called The Primal Teen), which is fascinating! Apparently, the teenage brain is in a state of flux, where the synapses (I think?) at first grow like crazy, then diminish over the next years. This explains why teens seem to, at times, have the mature judgment capacity of an adult, and then they go do something totally bonkers and leave you scratching your head.

And this is the place my girls are at... the place where long-term consequences don't exactly mean much... because they literally can't think through them. The brain is not developed that way yet. (Think pre-frontal cortex-- doesn't fully develop until mid to late twenties.) The book has already begun discussing the prefrontal cortex, which is exciting to me, but I'm just barely in the first chapter and a half. I can't say anything for sure yet.... just that I'm very, very interested.

The implications for my group and its "success" are staggering. I've been trying to help these kids by emulating the format of the women's group, but it's obvious that it won't work. Why? Their brain processes are fundamentally different at this point. If I can figure out how to use what I learn about how the teenage brain processes and utilizes information, then I can work out a curriculum that will enable me to help them deal long-term with the issues they are facing and will face. Now, according to my calculations... (LOL! Couldn't help but toss that in...)