Another day in paradise. I thought this blog was gone into the realms of cyberspace, but lo, and behold! It is still here. 

Life is funny in many ways, so very sad in others. This past weekend two phriends of mine passed on. One from stupid pulmonary hypertension, the other from brain cancer. I guess that it is the point of my life where people start dying, instead of having babies and the glorious continuation of life. It is strange to see the circle. Hard sometimes, too. But life rolls on and I am hanging on to the handles of the ride, hoping to glean the real "meaning of life," but it has become to me, that the real meaning of life is the ride itself, and how we face each day.

I don't like being chronically ill. I want to be normal, but then I look at normal and think HOLY HELL I don't want to be normal. I like me how I am. I just wish the chronic pain wasn't here, and I had the energy I did. Everything is a drag. Move things, heavy or not, and the pain sits inside for days tormenting my body to the point I want to just lie down and sleep. There is happy in there, but the stupid medications seem to dull my senses. Make me lethargic, apathetic to my surroundings. This is "Normal?"  My doctor and therapist tell me this how average people feel. THIS SUCKS, who said again, I need to be normal? I disagree. I miss my highs of mania where I am creative, attentive, and moving like Speedy Gonzales. Instead I am just here. Bleech on psychotropic medications. They stun the senses and make my brain dull. Boring. Average. I don't like being average. I enjoy excelling, spontaneity, the joy of living. The desire to do.  It isn't here with stupid medications. For the past 30+ years I have swallowed the drugs, and I wonder, what has this done to my brain? Is the real me inside still? I know if I am non-compliant, that my kids will freak out. They will put me into "child mode" saying Mom take your pills. Did you take your medication? Oh what is it like to just be me. 

Caregiving has changed me too. I am tired, all the time. Does Nana need to bathe? How much longer before her dementia worsens. What will the day bring? I peek into her room and check that she is still alive and breathing? What will I do if she isn't? I have dealt with death so often, that some things numb me. Just numb me. I feel like I need to sit in a small area so I may control my surroundings. Sean, oh I finally hung my proverbial hat on being his caregiver to the extreme that I have. To break loose of those bonds. Emotionally okay. Physically, okay. I have finally begun to let go of the things i cannot control. Hard to do when it has defined me for the past 30 years. But I am trying.

My shrink and therapist said, "Define yourself. Who are you?" I had never thought of it before because I have been mother, wife, care giver. What do I aspire to be? Who am I? What makes me happy? Fulfilled? Whole? Geeze, I never thought about myself until they put forth that question to me. I am still searching, thinking about the answer. I get asked the question EVERY time I go in to talk, but I still haven't come up with an answer. Is there an answer befitting me? I have been conditioned to be the proverbial caregiver, mother, wife, mate. How do I look into myself to see who I really want to be? Who I am? Sheesh, in my twenties when I was a wee bit wilder (okay lots) I was a party animal. Drinking, dancing, and having fun. Was it really fun upon reflection? I think yes. Did it define me? Maybe.

Two men from my past are begging me to come and "be" with them. I cannot. They are old and are going to die, and I have done enough death to feel like the Grim Reaper, and I am tired of this. If you're going to die, please don't do it on my watch. I am tired of death. I have abandonment issues.

Ugh that gets brought up in therapy too. Abandonment issues. Yes, I have them. I know I do. How to I manage that? Mountain first. He made me feel safe, safely tucked under his arm, in the warmth of his embrace.The world could not hurt me, harm me or do wrong. I watched him die in a hospital bed, then found no reason to live. I calmed my soul with using drugs, and drink. It did no good.  I still felt alone. 

Next my mother. She is my best friend. Still long after her death. She has been gone for 12 years now, and I miss her so much. I have a hard time reaching out to people, and the hollow spot she has left in me cannot be filled. Okay, I managed to accept that she was gone. I watched as her soul left her body, free from cancer and the pains she endured in life. I functioned. Good thing the whole house flooded right before I came home, it distracted me enough to not think of the gaping hole in my life. I think she had something to do with it actually.