Blah blah blah

Yesterday was a busy day. I had a workshop and then a writers’ group. Both of these things are important for my mental health.

The workshops allow me to give back and contribute in a meaningful way. They let me help. Also, they keep me connected to other people. I’m not exactly the most social of butterflies. They give me those hits of short term connections. And I’m always learning from other people there. I love my workshops.

My writing group is also important to me. It’s an outlet where I get to be creative and introspective in a room full of people doing the same. It lets me practice my writing skills. Basically what we do is write for 10-15 minutes, whatever comes out comes out. It’s different when it’s structured like that versus being at home alone. Here there are a million distractions, including in my own head.

I’m trying to write a book. I don’t know what it’s about yet, though. But I figure it’s about damn time I write it.

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Healthy Habits and Me

Let me start out by saying that I’m a peer leader for chronic pain and chronic disease self management. I know a thing or two about healthy habits. And yet here I am, still in bed hiding from the storm, with half a pizza beside me.

Yeah.

Do as I say, not as I do.

I understand the way to change habits, but I’ve been so sick this year that I’ve really just let things slide. Even now, I’m so tired. I’m pushing until tomorrow what I should’ve done today and I’m already a month behind.

I know the best way to change a habit is through small steps. As small as necessary.

The problem I’m having is sticking to my plans when I feel awful. That’s when the pizza gets ordered and the exercises don’t get done. I’m just so tired. My leg hurts and my lungs hurt and all I want to do is sleep. I’m not even sure I should push myself or if I just give in for another day. Of course I know the answer is to just a small amount. Even walking in place for one minute is better than nothing. It’s a small step in the right direction at least.

How do you stick to your healthy habits?

Uncertain II

There are things I can change and things I can adapt to.

Sometimes, those adaptations have to happen at lightning speed.

Sometimes, it gets real uncomfortable and painful and I don’t want to fucking do it at all. I’d rather hide in the bathtub forever and ever than have to deal with whatever shit those fucking chimpanzees are flinging at my head today.

Yeah, sometimes I wanna give up. But I don’t. Because I can say there are things I can’t change, but the truth is there are things I can change and things I can adapt to. Just a little shift and I’m back in control.

It’s not easy peasy but nothing worth doing is.

Uncertain

Uncertainty. Not knowing what to expect. This is a running joke written by the writer of my life. They’re on a typewriter in the rain, chuckling quietly to themselves every time they throw in a lupus or a polyp or the death of a friend.

They laugh and I live it.

Uncertainty is inherent in my diseases, including the disease of general life. We all live with it. It hovers above us all. It just feels so ever-present to me. It’s like a cloud above me, ready to rain down at any point. And I ignore it, trying to get on with my day, but it’s there and I’ve forgotten my umbrella yet again.

Ugh, does this even make any sense?

My therapist suggested uncertainty as a blog topic, so I’m trying to write but it’s so hard.

The words are stilted and I’ve been working on this for nearly 45 minutes. I go make coffee, come back. Get breakfast, come back. Write a sentence, feel nauseated, but keep coming back.

Keep coming back, Kaarina.

Keep coming back.

 

Mac & Sleep

I’m out here in the sun, trying to feel better. I had a minor surgery a couple of days ago and I’m still feeling stiff and crampy and my lungs hurt from being intubated. But it’s a gorgeous day and I’m ready to tackle it, even if tackling it just means watching Netflix and eating mac & cheese all day.

I’ve got some comfort food in the oven, that I threw together from stuff left in the fridge and cupboards. Farfalle, yogurt, cheese, nutritional yeast, hemp hearts, and panko. Oh! And of course, some fresh homegrown parsley on top. It can pass for mac & cheese in a pinch.

Other than that, sleep is definitely on the menu today. And I’d like to write out a Friends story that’s kicking around my brain.

My brain is definitely moving faster than my body today.

What are you watching these days? I’m thinking of rewatching Brooklyn 99. I need something simple and hilarious today. The Netflix equivalent of comfort food.

 

Living with ghosts

I’ve come to both love and loathe the quiet moments. I love the sleep. I loathe the dreams.

Hey now, this post is not all doom and gloom, though there will be a fair bit of that going on. Look beneath, though, and you’ll see the shine. It’s always there under the shit.

I live with ghosts. Not the boo woo kind. Kind of the boo hoo kind. Ghosts of touch. Ghosts of laughter. Ghosts of loss and love. Ghosts of those gone away and those gone forever.

I sit with ghosts. They surround me. Sometimes I feel them drown me. But I sit with them. Stoic. Trying to make peace.

I love the ghosts. I cling to them like they give me life. I cling to them like I cling to my memory boxes, terrified of forgetting, itching to move on.

I never want to forget, so I live with ghosts and they change me. I talk to potatoes and I feel less alone.

I live with ghosts, but they don’t haunt me.

I live with ghosts, so I don’t live alone.

 

Perfectly Lovely

I’ve set myself up a little writing space on the front porch in hopes that it will encourage more writing. I’ve got some herbs growing in the corner and sometimes a little bird will come and land on the railing, sing a little song and take off again. I’ve got my Grumpy Bear mug full of tea, Earl Grey, hot. The wind is rustling the big trees in the front yards, occasionally loosening a leaf or two. My space is perfectly lovely and it is all mine.