Stop pretending everything's okay. Stop pretending. Things are not okay. Everything is out of control. Everything is not okay. I'm afraid but I'm pretending that I'm not. Need the job so I can get health care. Can't survive on my SS and very small IRA. I cannot afford to retire.
Health issues. Several now. Memory loss maybe from being under anesthesia too long-9 hours. Maybe from my maternal grandmother who had dementia. Maybe from depression and anxiety. Or maybe because for years I have said to myself I wish my most painful memories of abuse would disappear. Maybe that wish will come true. I failed my first memory test, scored 34 out of 40. Now waiting to be scheduled for more tests to make final diagnosis.
Rota-tor Cuff surgery, still in PT, has been 5 months since the surgery, and 4 months in PT.. I was given a pain block before the shoulder surgery, and that froze my diaphragm. Could not breathe on my own for almost 20 hours. Had to be taken to the hospital in an ambulance and stay overnight. I believe this experience was in part one of the reasons why I suffered so much anxiety and depression during Nov, Dec and Jan.
Still diabetic, and now having difficulty controlling my eating so my sugars are too high. I have been able to do it, but not doing it now. I have put back on half of the weight that I lost. So photos of me make me cringe. I pretend I am not old and fat in my head.
Still always tired. Recent tests show I might have developed hyperparathyroidism. Have to collect a 24 hour cycle of my urine for further tests to know for sure. My inbox is filled with emails from UMHS. I feel close and safe and taken care of there. It would hard to let go of that after 12 years.
My blood pressure is high, too high, and next I will be testing my blood pressure in addition to testing my blood sugar twice a day. It all scares me. I blame myself.
In November and even during the Dyke March work in Buffalo, I learned that I may think of Buffalo as my home, but Buffalo doesn't think about me anymore. I don't have a sense of belonging to that place because no one knows me. I feel invisible there. The sexual abuse I suffered as a child now wherever I go. Here in A2 I don't feel I belong. Only the people I work with really know me, and they only know my work personae.
Health issues. Several now. Memory loss maybe from being under anesthesia too long-9 hours. Maybe from my maternal grandmother who had dementia. Maybe from depression and anxiety. Or maybe because for years I have said to myself I wish my most painful memories of abuse would disappear. Maybe that wish will come true. I failed my first memory test, scored 34 out of 40. Now waiting to be scheduled for more tests to make final diagnosis.
Rota-tor Cuff surgery, still in PT, has been 5 months since the surgery, and 4 months in PT.. I was given a pain block before the shoulder surgery, and that froze my diaphragm. Could not breathe on my own for almost 20 hours. Had to be taken to the hospital in an ambulance and stay overnight. I believe this experience was in part one of the reasons why I suffered so much anxiety and depression during Nov, Dec and Jan.
Still diabetic, and now having difficulty controlling my eating so my sugars are too high. I have been able to do it, but not doing it now. I have put back on half of the weight that I lost. So photos of me make me cringe. I pretend I am not old and fat in my head.
Still always tired. Recent tests show I might have developed hyperparathyroidism. Have to collect a 24 hour cycle of my urine for further tests to know for sure. My inbox is filled with emails from UMHS. I feel close and safe and taken care of there. It would hard to let go of that after 12 years.
My blood pressure is high, too high, and next I will be testing my blood pressure in addition to testing my blood sugar twice a day. It all scares me. I blame myself.
In November and even during the Dyke March work in Buffalo, I learned that I may think of Buffalo as my home, but Buffalo doesn't think about me anymore. I don't have a sense of belonging to that place because no one knows me. I feel invisible there. The sexual abuse I suffered as a child now wherever I go. Here in A2 I don't feel I belong. Only the people I work with really know me, and they only know my work personae.
Jimmy Cagney may be my model for my basic behavior and personality. Short, stocky, quick, deliberate, fierce look on my face that I never believe I have, and I am no pushover. That's probably not good at this point in my life and way overused, or not necessary at all with the people in my life now.
Life is a continual series of lessons. And I suppose I would worry if I ever got to the point in my life when that stopped, but yet I act like a know it all.
As I child, a young child, I had to find safety. I had to pretend every thing was ok, so that no one would know who I really was. So a tough stance stepped up, confidence was a good cover, better sound like you know what you are talking about. Work hard. Long work hours to occupy your mind and keep the never ending roll of images and memories at bay. Too busy to think about anything.
Head down and move forward. Be funny. Thanks Mom. My goal was to make her laugh. Her laughter hurt less than her anger.
Head down and move forward. Be funny. Thanks Mom. My goal was to make her laugh. Her laughter hurt less than her anger.
