The treadmill is going to be here on Monday morning. I need to get that room ready. This afternoon I started painting. I'm not going to do anything fussy like I did in my room. I'm painting the closet and trim a creamy white and the walls orange. Yep. Orange. Well, maybe more like tangerine. I had bought that paint to use in the front bathroom but I changed my mind when I bought the new vanity and mirror at Ikea. I didn't really like the idea of a whole can of paint going to waste so I figured I'd use it in a room that I didn't care about so much. I toned down the color a bit and tried a swatch. I like it.
I'll make some nice shades for the windows (I'm thinking something like a print in citrus colors) and add some black accents. I wasn't all that enthused when I started this project but now I'm kind of digging it. I'll have a nice, pleasant, sunny exercise room. This will be a very good thing.
My stress level has been sky high. I've had a series of things go wrong (car stuff, money, more car stuff, buying insurance, Christmas, car, grief, the health care bill, money). They all just clumped together in a big, nasty Katamari ball. The other night when I was at the grocery store I discovered I had lost my teller card. That was the capper. I came home and asked Paige if she could go back to the store and pay for the groceries and bring it all home. Thank you, Paige. That day I had had as much as I could take.
This is why I need an exercise room.
I've noticed that my, um, emotional pain hits me in a different place now. It used to grip my throat at the base of my neck. Now I feel it in the center of my face and at the top of my throat. Kind of weird. I don't know what it means.
Last night Tracey and I went to the Huntington Beach uke jam Christmas party. It was pretty cool. The food was so good! They had too many people, not enough seats and no tables. The place was pretty packed. Next year we'll take a couple of tray tables. It's a drag trying to eat holding your plate in your lap. After dinner they had a show. It was mostly people from the group, but there were a few guests. There was this family group that was really good. We're talkin' some pretty young kids and they all sang really well. There was a wide variety of performers. I sang I'm Gonna Lasso Santa Clause by Brenda Lee.
After the party Tracey and I came back to Riverside and went to the Citrus City Grill for our usual after-ukeing drinks. The weather was almost balmy so we could sit outside quite comfortably. She had brought along this fun word game that's kind of like Scrabble. Um, Bananagrams, I think. We had a lovely time talking, playing the game, listening to some jolly drunks at the next table and getting a little buzzed ourselves. It was a fun night, which I badly needed.
I guess the paint is dry enough for me to do the next coat.
10 comments:
If I were doing dream analysis I'd say you're getting closer to finally speaking your grief. That it's moving upward and the pain is in your face (think: showing a good face) is in pain maybe you're starting to realize how much effort it is to always have as much control as you've had. I suspect once you let loose of the control it'll all come out and be very cleansing for you.
Like a muscle that has been in contraction for years, when it releases your flexibility returns. It's a thought.
Well, for one thing, I have NO control when it comes to suppressing my grief. I do try not to cut loose when there are other people around, but I'm not always successful. It's not the raging monster it once was, but has now settled into a quiet, sad little thing that comes to the surface from time to time.
The grief is certainly there, but the thing that's really getting to me is fear. It's constant. I'm afraid that I'll screw up and lose everything. I'm afraid everything will fall apart (money, health). I've already been shown that it can. I never used to feel that way. I'm afraid I'll never get a decent job. I'm afraid for our country and our planet. Things are so seriously fucked up right now.
Maybe that's why the emotional pain has moved to my face. Maybe grief lives in my throat and fear lives in my face. I dunno. Maybe I'm afraid of my face.
Thanks for your thoughts. It's a good conversation. Yesterday as I was popping my Wellburtin pill I was thinking it might be a good idea to get some help with this. I did have a counseling session with Kaiser once a few years ago. It was so fucking lame. I was feeling depressed and overwhelmed by taking care of Dad and the INFANT therapist told me I should take more time for myself. Jeez, I could have just watched Oprah instead. Then she said they'd schedule more sessions for me but I never heard a word. Fortunately the depression lifted on its own and I moved on with my life. I thought man, what if I had been suicidal and got that kind of treatment?
I know getting back into a regular exercise routine isn't a cure-all, but I know it will help. I think that's why I've been so looking forward to getting this treadmill. I know I'll use it. I love treadmills.
Getting through Christmas will also help. Christmas is a mixed bag.
singe- Well, we all know what that means.
I've always been a little afraid of your face. I'm more afraid of my face, but thankfully, I don't have to look at it as often as everybody else does.
All the stuff that's going wrong right now... I'm really having to concentrate on being happy anyway. Once in awhile I accomplish it. Sometimes I read something about how nothing is new under the sun, and that makes me feel better, and those cultures that got as fucked up as ours turned around. And some of them only took a few hundred years to do it! Weights, fish oil, a major scientific breakthrough... we should make it!
And the big stuff is easy compared to your car not working and losing your bank card and stubbing your toe and the printer chewing up your copies. The ice caps melting is nothing compared with a pile up like that. I mean it. That shit makes me want to light my hair on fire and run screaming down the street.
Did the treadmill come?
The treadmill is here! In pieces! I had to have Ken and Greg (Ken's son-in-law) come over and get it inside for me. After they moved it in I had to leave to go handle a car issue. I'm going to try to put it together tonight. I haven't read the instructions yet but the website said it's eeeaassy. We'll see.
The big picture stuff just kind of nags at me. What's getting me down is the hair on fire stuff. I've just had too much of it lately. The fear issues are much harder to handle when the universe seems like it's out to get me. This shit goes in cycles, so maybe it's time for an upswing.
Grief, fear, same thing. It's control and emotion attached to change. I realize you can and do easily cry but that is not the same thing as releasing the fear/grief - all of it, not just letting off the top of the pressure cooker to ease it a little.
And Donita, there are some things you just can't control - like the environment, the world, the country.
Well, duh, I know that. It would be useless to think I can control that big stuff. But it does affect my life. I'm paying $500 a month for health insurance. My income is $800. The rest has to come from somewhere. I have Jim's IRA and the rest of the cash from my inheritance, which is tied up in investments. All that money is supposed to provide for my old age but it looks like I might burn through it much sooner. And believe me, it's no big sum. So when our elected officials fuck up health care is does affect me. I know I can't control that, but I do need to find some kind of solution and fast.
The whole thing about control is an odd concept to me. My dad was a control freak and it was so clear to me that it really messed up his life. If things didn't go his way he'd use every tactic he could to try to get what he wanted, and I resented him for it. You can't control events and you can't control people. What you can do is make good decisions and try to plan ahead. Since I lost Jim I don't trust my decisions. Not completely, anyway. When you've had a partner for 34 years you get used to thinking in a certain way. You have a whole other brain to use, and his was a good one. I am getting used to being on my own, but when certain issues come up I get overwhelmed. I'm not falling apart, but I'm also not very happy.
I can't control what's happening in Washington, but I can take steps to improve my health. I can't control the economy but I can develop my skills and make myself more marketable, which could lead to a job with benefits. If I were in my twenties this would all be a great adventure. But I'm not. I also know that my little story ain't nuthin' compared to what a lot of people are going through. So I plod on.
VO, your blog is telling me I need to be invited to read it. I feel so shut out.
I shut it down to everyone. So don't feel left out. Right now it's just one obligation that I don't feel the need to fulfill. Too many other things on my mind. I'm dropping that which is not essential.
Jim's brain was very good--except for that one leedle part. I know people paying $2500 a month for health insurance. You know, $500 a month for you and Paige? Right? That's pretty cheap, which doesn't make it a smaller percentage of your income outgoing. When I start paying for Greg's insurance through my work where I actually have a pretty good employer-paid health plan, his premium will be $200 a month.
I'm thinking you and I should have rented instead of bought these houses. That would have given us cash when we needed it. Now our money's tied up in houses that aren't worth what we paid for them, which makes us stuck.
You have a healthy attitude toward "those things I cannot change". I feel like if I'd knocked on doors, yelled protest slogans louder, or parked in my representatives' waiting rooms, we'd have a better political system. And that's the way they want me to think, too. It lets them off the hook.
Bootstraps, pah!
sogra--a mental fugue state after two hours on the computer.
-dean
The $500 is just for me. Paige is $100, which is pretty good.
I'm glad I'm not renting. Maybe it's not a good financial move, but my house is mine and I can do what I want with it and I don't have to deal with a landlord. It's not worth what I paid for it but if the world doesn't fall apart that value will come back. The market was pretty low when I bought the house, but it hadn't hit bottom yet. Still, for this neighborhood, I think it was a pretty good deal. Now, if I can just hang onto it...
I just finished a session with the treadmill and I feel GREAT!
ticabish- A small town in Louisiana
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