The Post With No Name

Cricket. Our cat.

She’s quite a character. Notice in the video I was painting a cat.

I’ve had a sore throat for days and I feel like someone ran me over, put the truck in reverse and did a doughnut over my flattened body. Could be an Epstein Barr flare, the virus that keeps on giving. I certainly don’t need the coronavirus on top of EBV.

The day before yesterday, Jase and I took our daily hike with Cricket and it felt like I had cinderblocks strapped to my limbs.

I don’t feel intense body pain, so thankful for that. I spoke to my ketamine doctor over the phone. She said since I did so well, they would like to maintain my results with a once a month infusion after the coronavirus blows over.

On top of being hormonal, feeling physically ill is triggering some depressed feelings. I’m not worried about anything, but it’s pulled my “corona routine” out from under me. I currently feel numb. Flatlined.

I know I need to honor the fact my body needs rest. I also know my sanity needs routine and some sort of plan. No one is going to make a suitable plan but me. I must stick to what I know, regardless of how dead I currently feel.

#1 Make a blog post, it’s been 3 days since my last

#2 Shower. I get points for the fact I’ve changed my underwear and put on fresh jammies. It’s now time for the pits, tits and ass rinse. My hair (it tickles my ass crack when I pee) truly needs some attention. There’s a dreadlock forming that will require a half gallon of conditioner.

#3 Meditate and journal. I know that I know that I know these practices are essential to my mental health.

#4 Paint some rocks. My new addiction. This I have been doing daily for the past week. It brings me calm. My 2 oldest boys are camping in the backcountry. They put their painted rocks outside their tents. Well, if that doesn’t put a lump in my throat, freakin kids making me cry. I made them similar rocks so there would be no fighting. They are 25 and 23 hahah 🙂

#5 Get outside. Even if I don’t have the energy to walk, fresh air is the best vitamin for me.

#6 Stick to proper meal times. It doesn’t matter if all I can stomach is crackers and tea. Keep a schedule Mare.

#7 Speak up when your mind starts looping. I am a skilled magician when it comes to the disappearing act, folding within myself and glazing over like a zombie. Last time I checked, Jase is a skilled listener and generous with hugs and affection. His exact words “Use me baby!”

#8 Take a nap.

You get the idea. Basic self care.

Why is it always the first to go when I feel like shit?

A Chocolatey Chippy Marshmallow Ride: Ketamine Day 2

All I know about yesterday is I didn’t get sick. There was no vomit. I listened to calm piano music this time as I felt the voices in the meditations yesterday really fucked with my head. Lesson learned.

Jase was nice enough to take videos of me pretending to be our cat Cricket, another of me talking about everything being mint chocolate chip marshmallows, my son Archie and I taking a ride and he said I asked about the kids every 30 seconds for an hour straight.

At one point Jase felt like hooking himself up to my I.V. just to deal with my excessive rambling about how much I loved everyone.

I slept the rest of the day. Today I feel very out of it. We are heading out for the 3rd treatment soon.

As far as helping with the pain, not a clue, I feel like a floating body.

I miss reading everyone’s blogs, hope all is well and thank you for reading and for your support. It means a lot.

Sloshy Gratitude

photo by me

Our lives are made up of numerous journeys. Together they make a whole.

Look upon others. Pause. Consider the chapters with in their lives. The chapters in your own life.

What chapter are you in dear reader?

Is the pen in your hand or do you feel as if it’s in another’s?

Both?

Focus on your breath, inhabit your body. Appreciate all that you are.

Dip into the well of gratitude. Don’t be stingy.

Fill it so that it sloshes as you carry it, soaking your feet, leaving imprints of gratitude in the places you travel. Share it with others.

Today, as you catch yourself holding your breath or tensing your shoulders against the heaviness, focus on one breath and remember you matter.

Wash Your Dirty Bits

There are days I feel like I’m falling out of a tree like my cat pictured above.

Shower?

Fuck no. That requires energy.

Jase kindly tells me when it’s time.

“Honey, you look like you brushed your hair with a pork chop.”

That’s when the hippie showers no longer cut it. You know, the 1 minute dirty bits rinse with the detachable shower head. Pits, tits, and ass as Jase refers to it……(I also include my vag)

Gypsy Soul

This gypsy soul visits us from time to time. She gets close enough to pet, but I never do, I respect her wild heart.

Sweet gypsy soul.

You crave adventure

The pulse of nature is your life line

Staying in one place is not an option. There’s too much to see and so much to do………

The search never ends………

Creativity is at your core

Your yearning is never quenched…….

Sweet gypsy soul, I see you and I know you.

I am you…………stuck in a cage…….longing to be free…….longing to roam…..

Forced stagnation is a demon holding me by the throat.

I’m being held against my will. Looking for the keys to unlock this hell.

A prisoner in a body that refuses to cooperate. Rebellious bitch no longer bending to the rules I have set.

This gypsy soul shall not be tamed by such a pathetic attempt.

She will run free once again.

Just wait and see…………..

The gypsy in the photo visits us from time to time. It was a privilege to capture this photo.

Life Can Be A Poke In The Ass

I’m short on laughter these days. This photo makes me laugh.

I want so badly to construct an inspiring blog post. To piece together something wise and well thought out.

I got nothin.

I feel like a piece of shit. My body feels like there’s static running though it. Every muscle and joint feels like someone took a blow torch to them. My head feels foggy and dizzy. My thoughts are dark and my sanity is faint. My brain is in a daze, it’s hard to talk in complete sentences.

I want to give full vent to the depth of how intensely awful my body feels. Letting go is terrifying. Letting go means admitting and accepting I’m falling apart. I’m angry. So fucking angry. I’ve lived a relatively healthy existence compared to most. Healthy choices are no guarantee to good health.

Life is a poke in the ass. I’ve never been poked in the ass, so I can only relate to the slang of the phrase.

No amount of meditating, pod casts, music, healthy food, deep breathing, stretching, spiritual books etc can touch what has taken over my body and mind.

I’m sad for anyone dealing with physical and/or mental illness. No one asks to feel like garbage. No one asks to have the rug pulled out from under them. This stuff can not be planned for.

I am stripped bare. I have nothing to offer physically, mentally or financially to another living soul. There is nothing boast worthy about this life. I am a shell.

The part of me that holds on to hope says, “My dear, this is the best place to be. An empty vessel. You are walking through the fire. Let go, there is a purpose to everything. “

Going To Seed

Photo by me

You there. Yes, you……..

You have gone to seed.

You may not be the ripe, flourishing beauty you once were, but how lovely is your depth.

Your seeds carry life. Your DNA written on each one.

You were planted from a seed and over time became an individual, yet still part of the many seeds before you.

Looking up the phrase “going to seed” produces negative idioms: to decline or fall apart. To become worn or shabby.

Aren’t we all going to seed? None of us are aging backwards.

As we decline into old age, what will be left?

I’ve been a negative asshole the past 2 days. Weary of feeling like shit, I’ve been dropping seeds of negativity like a rabbit with colitis.

Chronic pain has turned me into a complaining slob. I’m obese with the seeds of anxiety and worry.

My head is spinning from tests and more doctor referrals. I’m dizzy from riding the same unicorn on the medical merry go round.

Eventually the weeds I’ve planted will choke out the wild flowers that are my heart. The weeds will turn into reins and capture this wild mare………..

Where the fuck are my gardening gloves? It’s time to get to work.