PhantomDaae1981's LiveJournal

Let's celebrate! My blog is 14 years old

2023-08-30T15:04:47Z

This arthritis is ruining my life.

2023-01-07T19:00:18Z

I found out a few months ago that I have osteoarthritis in my knee. It's pretty bad; there's bone spurs and stuff. I'm doing physical therapy for it, but it's not really helping. And my physical therapist spent our first appointment basically saying the pain was in my head (he admitted to not looking at my chart and xrays), although he's been a little better since then. I think other parts of my body are trying to compensate for how messed up my knee is, so I've been having pain in my ankle and back as well. Plus, as always, my severe bunions are really painful (I eventually need surgery for the bunions, but life keeps getting in the way).

My apartment is filthy. There's pet fur all over the floor, everything is unorganized and a mess, I haven't put away Christmas decor yet, etc. It's honestly overdue for a deep cleaning (baseboards, walls, etc), but right now I can't even keep up with the basic day-to-day stuff. I'm so stressed out and I can't stop crying.

I try to break everything down to do a bit each day, but I only seem able to do part of what I plan for each day, because the pain is so bad, and my knee not only hurts, but also starts giving out on me.

I am in too much pain to take my dog on nice walks, and I feel horrifically guilty about that. I used to walk to therapy (a little over a mile, a walk through a really nice park where I like to play Pokemon Go), but I can't manage that anymore because of the pain, either. Running errands is a struggle, taking out the trash is a struggle,

I do my best to play with Nate (partners' son) when he comes over, but I can't sit on the floor with him anymore, because it's too hard to get back up. I can't run around with him. I keep having to tell him that we have to play sitting down. And I feel so guilty about that, because he's an active kid, and he wants me to run and play with him like I used to.

The pain is affecting my mood. I'm angry, I'm depressed, I'm frustrated. I'm beginning to have suicidal thoughts at times, because I feel like I don't have much quality of life right now (I will not act on those thoughts).

When I was a kid, I lived in filth and squalor as part of the abuse and neglect from my parents. For a long time, as an adult, I continued to live in filth squalor, because it was what I knew. Eventually, I had enough and learned how to keep a pretty decently clean home (not perfect by any means, but clean). Now, I feel like it's falling back to the way I used to live, because I'm in too much pain to maintain my home properly.

I managed to get a little done today, but it's not really even enough to put a dent in things. I don't know what to do. I don't really have anyone I can ask for help, because they're all too busy with their own stuff.

Oh, and I got a severe sinus infection right before Christmas, and was sick for almost 2 weeks before I found out it was bacterial and I needed antibiotics. I'm on antibiotics now and the sinus infection is a lot better, but that also put me even more behind on trying to take care of my home.

I just don't know what to do.

Review of the US Tour of HAMILTON.

2022-10-09T19:08:04Z

HAMILTON, Angelica Tour, Columbus OH, October 6, 2022.

CAST

Hamilton: Edred Utomi

Eliza: Kendyl Sayuri Yokoyama (U/S)

Burr: Josh Tower

Angelica: Stephanie Umoh

Washington: Paul Oakley Stovall

Lafayette/Jefferson: David Park

Mulligan/Madison: Tyler Belo

Laurens/Philip: Jon Viktor Corpuz

Peggy/Maria Reynolds: Yana Perrault

King George: Peter Matthew Smith

First, I should say that I've watched the professional recording of HAMILTON on Disney+ countless times since it was released, as well as listening to the original Broadway cast recording countless times. As much as I love it, I actually feel that these repeat viewing may have done me a disservice going in to see the show live. I'm ashamed to admit this, but I found myself initially comparing everyone and everything to that professional recording. Some of these comparisons were silly, such as noticing how loud it is onstage when they clink their cups together during "My Shot." Other comparisons were distracting, as my brain just didn't know how to process a different cast than the one from the professional recording. There's really no sense in my brain behaving this way; I'm a theatregoer from years back, over half my life, and I've seen so many different casts of so many different shows, and I've never had this problem before. I'm honestly embarrassed to have had this issue with HAMILTON. Luckily, as the show went on, my brain stopped trying to compare everyone, and I was better able to just sit back and enjoy the show.

Edred Utomi as Hamilton was a amazing. Very strong vocally, very earnest and eager in the first part of the show, while visibly becoming more sluggish and worn after Philip's death. By the time of his own death, he was weary and resigned to fate, and just ready to go.

Kendyl Sayuri Yokoyama was the understudy for Eliza, and she was absolutely incredible. Very tiny, but with a voice that was oh-so-big! She portrayed her character's journey so well. Her strongest moment was during "Burn," when her voice completely filled the theatre with its beauty and strength. The emotion she conveyed during that song was enough to take your breath away.

Josh Tower as Burr was very strong vocally, and did not disappoint during my favorite song ("Wait For It"). What really stunned me with him, however, was his interpretation of the end verse of "The Room Where It Happens." He vocally and physically became almost crazed, and it was almost frightening to see. Very effective!

Stephanie Umoh as Angelica was decent during "Satisfied," but really shined during "It's Quiet Uptown." The whole theatre seemed to be in tears.

Paul Oakley Stovall really came across as older and wiser, but I thought he sounded strange over the microphone through much of the show, something about his pronunciations. His voice was amazing, though, especially during "One Last Time."

David Park as Lafayette had a rather slight French accent, but was able to rap incredibly fast during his character's more challenging bits. I thought he was more effective as Jefferson, with just the right amount of cockiness and swagger.

Tyler Belo as Mulligan was very charming and charismatic. He didn't stand out quite as much as Madison, but was still stunning vocally.

Jon Viktor Corpuz was terrific as Laurens, both humorous and intense. He did a great job portraying child Philip, and then as a young adult, he was appropriately cocky and vulnerable.

Yana Perrault was cute and funny as Peggy, and absolutely smoldered as Maria. As Maria, she had very short hair, which I felt added somewhat to Maria's outsider status. I would love to hear her sing more; she has a beautiful and rich voice.

Peter Matthew Smith was funny as King George, really hamming it up appropriately. He snarled quite a lot, exaggerating his words, etc. The audience absolutely ate it up.

Other Notes: I absolutely sobbed during "Dear Theodosia." That song is very emotional for me, as someone who is an aunt and momo, and as someone whose parents were not always there for me. Edred Utomi and Josh Tower conveyed so much love for Hamilton's and Burr's respective children, and it was incredibly moving. I also think it's really worth noting just how amazing the ensemble is in this show. So much dancing and singing, and everything really blends together into this feverish intensity that's really just wonderful to see. Also, I want to acknowledge that there are very valid criticisms of this show as a whole, and I encourage everyone to read and research the actual history of the historical people who are portrayed in this show. They were not heroes. And I maintain that Burr is a more likeable person, both in this show and historically. Not that he was perfect; because, of course, he was not.

Gardening problems.

2022-09-10T17:10:32Z

Something ate all the watermelon in my garden. Every last one. These were for Nate, and he checks them every time he's at my house. He is going to be devastated. I hate to do this, but I'm going to pick 1 small watermelon at the store, and when he gets back from Alabama, I will tell him it's from the garden. I'll be honest and tell him animals were eating the watermelons. But I'll lie and tell him I saved one for him just in time. Nate will still get the lesson about nature and gardening (that animals sometimes eat what you plant); I'm just making the lesson a little less harsh by making him think one watermelon survived. Please don't judge me for lying. He's already upset that his grandfather died, and I don't want him to be completely disappointed about the watermelon. He's been so excited all Summer, waiting for the watermelon to be ready. I know it's stupid, but I'm literally sobbing over this. He struggles with so much as it is (autism, adhd, intellectual disability). I just want him to feel happy and proud of something (he's helped maintain the watermelon all Summer, and views them as his own watermelon garden).

Let's celebrate! My blog is 13 years old

2022-09-07T16:46:06Z

That time when I hurt the feelings of Neil Diamond and Mr. Rogers (not really).

2022-07-18T16:16:26Z

Random childhood memory: My dad was listening to Neil Diamond, and I said I didn't like Neil Diamond. My dad replied: "That poor, poor man." I spent weeks feeling guilty for hurting Neil Diamond's feelings. I think this says a lot about me as a person. Another time, after I'd just outgrown watching Mr. Rogers, my mom told me that Mr. Rogers missed me. I went back to watching the show for another couple of years, so I wouldn't hurt Mr. Rogers feelings. I'd now say that the world would benefit from watching more Mr. Rogers. However, I still maintain that I don't care for Neil Diamond.

Hiding From the Landlord

2022-07-18T13:10:12Z

There will be no porch time today.
The dog's time in the backyard will be frantic and rushed.
The curtains are drawn, and
We must be quiet.
We're back to
Hiding from the landlord.
Can't let anyone know
The Problem started here,
Even though it's not really
Our fault anymore.
Can't let anyone see the
Holes punched in the walls and
The literal writing on the wall,
Because his father hasn't patched it yet.
We're back to
Hiding from the landlord.
Can't let anyone see how
Bad The Problem is.
Have to make The Problem better
Before I can
Ask for help with The Problem.
Can't let anyone know
How Bad I had to let It become.
This is Living Overwhelmed.
This is
Living in Fear.
This is Housing Insecurity that
Never ends.

Many people, one life, finding purpose.

2022-07-14T23:36:16Z

I'm fully aware that this isn't some profound statement, but we really are different people over the course of our lives. At the same time, we're the same person for the duration, too, of course. I certainly am (more or less) the same person I was 20 years ago, and even beyond that, back into my adolescence and childhood. But did I ever think, back 20 or more years, that my purpose in life would be the caretaking of an intellectually disabled autistic child? Hell, no.

And, no, that's certainly not my only purpose, either. There's much more to who I am, and I could go into all of that, but I'll refrain for now. This is certainly not who I thought I was meant to be, though, years ago. It never would have even occured to me that this would be my raison d'etre. I thought I was going to be a philosophy professor, but that was after I decided against social work, and discovered that I'm really fucking good at philosophy. Or maybe a paralegal. Or maybe even a nurse, except I'm no good with science and math, so that was out. I spent a shocking number of years as an adolescent convinced that I was meant to be a Catholic nun, but only if I was still allowed to go see Broadway shows. Speaking of which, I also spent a bit of my adolescence dreaming of the Broadway stage, wanting it more than anything, but eventually realizing my place is firmly and happily in the audience.

Eventually, I realized, much to my dismay, that I cannot be a part of the workforce. My anxiety and other mental illnesses will not allow it. I still resent this fact, but I accept it (and here's hoping that Social Security agrees; still waiting to hear the results of my hearing). I've dabbled in volunteer work, because I want to give back to the world, but mental illness has gotten in the way of that, too. I do still volunteer online on a rape survivors' message board, as a moderator and supportive person in the self-injury section of the message board. I'm able to do this without triggering my anxiety too much, and it means so much to me to be able to help and maybe even inspire others who struggle with issues of self-harm. Volunteering in this way also helps me maintain my own recovery from self-injury, going on almost 13-years strong now.

I'm also an auntie, and I can't speak with enough pride about my nephews Josh and Gabe. I can only hope that maybe something of me and my presence in their lives has helped to contribute to the stunningly brilliant and kind young men they are today. They are just such amazing individuals, and their intuitive kindness shows nowhere as well as it does in their relationships with Nate. They are patient, gentle, fun, and just the best cousins a kid could ever ask for. Nate loves them dearly, and so do I.

And we come back to Nate. Sometimes, when I want to die, I justify it with the thought that everyone in my life would be better off without me, would move on without me eventually. I can't believe that Nate would. No matter how I've sometimes tried to convince myself, I cannot believe that Nate would ever move on or be better off without me. I don't know that Nate would even understand if I was suddenly gone, and I imagine (and know) the effect on his life would be devastating. Perhaps this is true for others in my life, but mental illness lies, and tries to convince me otherwise at times. But, as powerful as my mental illness is, it cannot convince me that Nate would be okay, ever.

Because Nate has somehow become my purpose. I'm Momo. I'm not a mom (although, Kim tells me I should consider myself a second mom, that I should consider Nate my child, and that I should never let anyone tell me otherwise; she told me so just today). For years, I didn't even want to be a mom. Then, I wanted to adopt. Then, I wanted to have my own child, only because I'd found out how convoluted and ableist the adoption process is. Then, I realized that having a child of my own was just not in the cards for me, and it hurts, but I accept it. But, really, Nate couldn't be any more my own child than he already is. When Kim was on fertility meds, and she and Joe were TTC, I did Wiccan fertility rituals with Kim every full moon. This was a way for me to feel involved with the process, and it worked! Nate was a rainbow baby; a beautiful, healthy baby whose only complication was an eye infection as a newborn. We didn't realize he was Different until he was about 3 years old (although, hindsight really is 20/20 when we look at old home videos). We brushed it off until we couldn't anymore, when he was 4 and was diagnosed as autistic and as having a global developmental delay. And probably ADHD, but he was too young to diagnose at the time (indeed, he has severe ADHD).

They explained to us that if he didn't eventually outgrow the global developmental delay, it would mean he had an intellectual disability. "What's that?" I asked. "It's what we used to call mentally retarded," the psychiatrist explained. I started crying. And I'm ashamed of the reason why, but I'll tell you anyway, because I'm an honest person. I cried because I was A Gifted Child (TM). I cried, because I had so many ableist views of people with intellectual disability. I pitied them, and I strived to be kind to them, but they were so different from me. How could I ever relate to Nate if he was intellectually disabled? How would we ever have any sort of relationship?

Who the hell did I think I was? Too smart to be able to relate to someone with an intellectual disability? Get over your fucking self, Kelly.

Thankfully, eventually, I did get over myself. Because, yesterday, Nate was officially diagnosed with an intellectual disability.

In fact, I relate to Nate exceptionally well. Kim and Joe joke that they are "chopped liver" next to Momo. I'm his favorite person to play with. He cuddles with me all the time. We talk, we giggle, we have inside jokes. We practically have our own language, or at least our own ways of using pre-determined words (for example, "special snack" means soft pretzels, tortilla chips, and nacho cheese). Full disclosure: I've begun wondering if maybe I'm not not autistic. But, then again, I also strongly suspect that Joe's autistic, and he struggles to relate to Nate. At any rate, my confusion relating to my own neurodivergencies is a topic for another day.

So, here I am. Kelly, made up of all the people I've been, or people I've felt sure I should be. The last thing I ever expected to be was Momo to an autistic, ADHD, intellectually disabled child. The last thing I ever expected was for Nate to be my purpose in life.

And, yet, I've never been more fucking sure that I'm exactly who I'm supposed to be, right now, at this moment of my life. This is indeed who I was meant to be.

And the best way I can sum this up is thusly: Thank you, Nate. Thank you.

These rambles were inspired by, of all things, a pop-up advertisement on a crossword puzzle game I was playing on my tablet. The ad said: "Your purpose is nursing." Well, maybe if I didn't suck so much at math and science.

"I don't wanna be old and sleep alone. An empty house is not a home." ~Keane, "Atlantic."

2022-04-08T23:47:23Z

The nights are the hardest.

During the day, I can distract myself more effectively.

I can work on my diamond dot crafts. I can binge watch YOU on Netflix.

I can (slowly) earn gift cards doing crap on MyPoints. I can play YoWorld; I can check my email. I can do my volunteer section moderating on the self-harm page of the online forum for people who've been raped. I can check Reddit, Livejournal, Tumblr, Nextdoor, Facebook.

I can drink my coffee, feed my pets, make myself breakfast, wash the dishes, put away the laundry.

Once dinner time rolls around, the crying has begun. Sometimes, they come visit me for dinner, but I know they will always leave now. Sometimes, I am supposed to eat alone. And I feel very hungry, but very disgusted at the same time, so I can't eat the dinner I prepare. I throw it away and eat crackers or chips instead.

I spend the night trying to do the things I did during the day, but I can't focus anymore. I cry a lot. I count the minutes until it's not too early to take my meds and go to bed. My bed is a California King, and although I am very fat, I feel so Tiny in my big bed. For some cruel reason, my dog and cats (two cats, because Kimberly took Willow with her; Willow, the cat who ALWAYS slept on my pillow Before), my dog and cats have not been sleeping with me. I beg my dog and cats to sleep with me; I fill the bed with pillows and stuffed animals. I keep the tissue boxes handy. I turn on old episodes of Johnny Carson and leave them on all night, because every Little Sound is Scary. Every Little Sound could be someone breaking into my duplex to Hurt me in some way. I keep the TV on because I'm not used to sleeping in the Quiet. I'm used to sleeping to the sounds of lovers snoring and breathing.

But now it's Quiet. All the Time. Quiet.

One night, Joe stays over, and we watch a few episodes of SUPERGIRL and make tacos. But he's more interested in my body parts than he is my thoughts and tears, and then he falls asleep.

One night, Kim and Nate stay over. And it is the best night in the world now. It is Home. We eat sandwiches and watch Disney movies. I make Nate a special snack. I read him his bed time story, and he is safe where I can see him. Kim doesn't feel well, so she falls asleep shortly after Nate does. But I can feel her and hear her in bed next to me, and everything is Okay. It's How Things are Supposed to Be.

But then morning comes, and I'm Alone again, and it feels like Forever.

It's been less than a week.

Living alone again, struggling.

2022-04-06T16:09:50Z

I have been terrible about staying up to date with things on LJ. I'm probably going to be more active now, though, because I have more time on my hands...

So, my wife (spiritually, not legally), little Nate, and my male partner (also my wife's husband; we're polyamorous) have moved out into their own house.

Nothing has changed in our relationships. It was always the plan for them to move out. They lived separately from me before, but then they had a lot of financial struggles, so they moved in with me. What was supposed to only be for a few months turned into almost 7 years.

There are several reasons why they couldn't live with me forever, and tbh, we were really risking some things (assistance programs) by living together as long as we did.  We weren't really coming out ahead in any way with the assistance programs, by the way. We were surviving, not getting extra of anything. It's just that I wasn't supposed to have anyone living with me.

But I'm not used to living alone anymore. It's only been a couple of days, and I'm really struggling. My home is SO QUIET without them here. Especially missing all the sounds from little Nate. He's a noisy kid, noisier than most due to some of his developmental issues.

Honestly, I'm missing Nate most of all. He calls me "momo," and everyone says I'm like a second mom to him, and that's how I feel. He's the closest I'll ever be to being a parent. I'm the one who plays with him the most, I'm the one who helps him with his homework, I'm his favorite to read to him at story time, and we're just so close. It's so hard not seeing him all the time.

I feel like I have no purpose without Nate here to take care of every day.

I'm still going to see everyone several times a week.

And, I mean, this is what I thought I wanted. I wanted to have my own space again, and to see them several times a week. It was going to be the best of both worlds. I would have my down time by myself, I would have room to set up a craft space, a music space, and an exercise space. But I would still see my wife, my male partner, and Nate multiple times a week.

But I hate it. I don't care about setting up my craft etc spaces. I just want them back here with me all the time. Here alone, the hours drag on, and it's so quiet and empty now. I'm crying all the time.

I keep trying to tell myself that I just need time to adjust. I lived alone before. And I keep trying to remind myself that I will still see them several times a week. But it just doesn't feel like enough.  My abandonment issues are through the roof.

I'm having a really, really hard time.

P.S. Please, don't judge me for being polyamorous. It's not for everyone, but it's the relationship structure that works best for me and my partners.

phantomdaae1981 @ 2022-01-01T13:59:00

2022-01-01T18:59:32Z

So, just a brief update. I promise to do a proper update soon, because so much has happened. At the moment, though, I have covid. I will be fine, but I feel horrific.

phantomdaae1981 @ 2020-11-24T08:58:00

2020-11-24T13:58:55Z

I have my phone hearing with the disability officer with social security today, as part of my SSI re-evaluation denial appeal. I'm a mess and a basketcase. Not gonna take anything to help me with my anxiety, bc that seems counterintruitive in this situation.

Clarification....

2020-11-09T13:40:53Z

Nate's been potentially exposed to covid via an adult at school (there was some miscommunication at first, and we thought it was another kid). They said Nate's considered "low risk," but we're advised to keep him home until we hear from the health department. They said Nate specifically and his teacher were the ones exposed to this person (we're wondering if it's maybe his speech therapist or OT, but the specifics don't really matter anyway). At least the fact that it was an adult means that the person would have definitely had a mask on (the kids at his school can be hit or miss regarding masks; in fact, I think Nate is probably the best about his mask in his class).

Of course, besides the concern about Nate getting sick or Nate bringing it home and getting any of us adults sick, I really hope whoever the sick adult at school is gets well without any complications. ❤

Fuck.

2020-11-09T02:24:13Z

Just found out that a kid in Nate's class has been diagnosed with Covid. Waiting to hear from the health department on how much at risk we are... But there's only 5 kids in Nate's class, including Nate.

Long Overdue Update.

2020-11-04T16:14:56Z

Not doing well.

Two days before Thanksgiving, I will have a phone hearing with social security, as part of the appeal process. They've been trying to stop my SSI, claiming I'm not crazy enough to have it anymore. I mean, sure, I'm not in and out of the hospital all the time anymore, and I haven't cut or burned myself in 11 years. But I'm still a mess, and if anything, my anxiety is worse now than it was when I initially got SSI.

I had a pap smear, and it was horribly triggering, so I keep having rape flashbacks, keep seeing a face in my head that I don't want to remember.

I have a lump in my right breast. My doctor thinks it's probably just a ligament that's somehow sticking out a little, but I've been referred for a mammogram next week. I've never had a mammogram before. They said they will do a mammogram of both breasts, and an ultrasound of the right breast.

My mom has been kicked out of her apartment for various reasons. She's pretty much definitely going to live out the rest of her days in the nursing home where she's been for the past year. I'm glad. I hate her. I had to go to her apartment and sort through her hoard to make sure family photos, keepsakes, etc were properly packed away for storage. I found all these poems and crap that I wrote for my parents as a kid, as well as emails back and forth between my dad and me, and the whole thing was just very upsetting and triggered all sorts of feelings from childhood. My childhood was not great, to put it mildly.

My cat Josephine (named after the empress) has been having accidents all over the house, including some that seem to have blood and mucus in the stool. Then, Friday night, she seemed to have had some sort of seizure. I'm taking her to the vet today. I'm terrified. I just keep praying that it will be something easily treated, and that it won't be beyond my budget to treat it.

There's a lot more I could update, but I'm already overwhelmed.

Gallbladder.

2020-05-26T14:22:45Z

I'm having my gallbladder surgery tomorrow, and I'm fucking TERRIFIED. I've thought of every possible thing that could go wrong, and I can't stop shaking.

Gallstones and homeschooling and quarantines, OH MY.

2020-04-05T23:23:38Z

Where to begin?

Of course, there's the whole coronavirus thing right now. I live in Ohio, which was the first state to close the schools, etc. We're under mandated orders to social distance now, and only essential businesses are allowed to remain open. Restaurants are open, but only for takeout or drive through. Stores have to count how many people go in, and each store much set a limited maximum number of customers to be inside at one time. Every time I do go out, I see more and more people with masks. Now that the CDC has recommended everyone where cloth masks, wifey and I got some cotton fabric, but I guess we're going to send it down to her mom in Alabama, who is going to put a lining and sew them properly, and then mail them back. Which could take a couple of weeks. I'm debating trying to just make my own to hold me over until then.

I was supposed to be seeing MISS SAIGON on the U.S. National Tour in June, but now I have no idea if that will even happen. All the touring productions, and Broadway itself, are shut down. I didn't have my tickets yet; they were supposed to go on sale this month. I don't know if they went on sale or not; haven't checked. I know MISS SAIGON is problematic in many ways, so it's not great of me that I really love it and consider it one of my favorite musicals. Me being upset that I'll probably not be able to see MISS SAIGON is privileged as fuck, honestly.

Wifey and Nate were going to go to Alabama over Spring break to visit her parents. I was going to go, too. I was super excited, because I have only been down there once. But we couldn't go because the whole pandemic thing got in the way. Her parents are homophobic and biphobic, and they don't know wifey and I are married (we're not married legally, for multiple reasons; we had a spiritual ceremony). They also don't know we are polyamorous, but they do know that she is married to Joe (they are married legally, as well as spiritually). However, he parents, especially her mom, love me, and are always sending gifts for me along with gifts for Kim and Nate. Her mom calls me her adopted daughter, and always thanks me for how much I help with Nate, for being such a good friend to Kim, etc. I wish her parents weren't homophobic and biphobic, but her mom is still a better "mom" to me than my own, so I'll take what I can get.

I forget if I mentioned here, but my mom (I'm 99% no contact with my mom, after years of abuse/neglect) fell and broke her femur and her back in her unsanitary, hoarder apartment. She's now in a nursing home, allegedly temporarily, to be rehabbed enough so she can walk. I guess she hasn't made much progress. And her landlord found out how unsanitary her apartment is. My sister, her husband, my wifey, and I all went and cleaned it as much as we could. But the landlord is now claiming there's bedbugs (there aren't; we checked), saying her bed needs gone (true: it's saturated with urine), and saying she broke her lease because she has been away from her apartment since November (due to hospital and the rehab place). I used to help my mom clean, but I could never keep up, because she hoards and won't do anything for herself, even though she can. And she refuses to have a professional aide help her at her apartment. And she won't get in contact with her landlord now, so my sister is panicking and trying to handle it all. I feel so guilty that it's all on my sister, but I can't break the no-contact with my mom. I visited her in the hospital, and it was okay, but then she started the same texts and phone calls as before, so I stopped contact again. I have been trying to advise my sister as best I can, and I've told my sister I will help her (my sister) any way I can. So, I have no idea what is going to happen. Honestly, I've thought for a few years that my mom should probably be permanently in an actual nursing home, because she is truly disabled, and won't even do the few things for herself that she CAN do. But I don't know if there's funds for that, or what will happen. I do know that if she loses her apartment, I'm going to go get the various keepsakes and photos that have sentimental value for our family.

At Walmart yesterday, we had to get pet food and some other necessary supplies. They were counting us as we went in, which is a relatively new development here in Ohio. And probably half the customers were wearing masks. I got incredibly anxious, and started shaking and having a panic attack. Wifey bought me a 20 ounce of Wild Cherry Pepsi so I could take one of my as-needed anxiety pills (vistaril). I wasn't anxious about catching anything, really. Sure, I have some health problems, and am at somewhat of an increased risk, but I don't think I'm at an incredibly high risk of complications. But just the whole surreal nature of things, thinking back to stuff like Twilight Zone and various apocalyptic movies, I just got overwhelmed and it didn't feel real. But, at the same time, it had never felt MORE real.

I have weekly therapy, but it's over a webcam program that's HIPAA compliant. It makes me anxious. I keep thinking I'm bothering my therapist or that she's bored with what I'm saying. Appointments with my psychiatrists have been over the phone.

My nephew Gabe is graduating 8th grade this year, and I'm really upset, because he won't be able to have his ceremony. His school would have done an actual ceremony, because they did when my nephew Josh graduated 8th grade there a couple of years ago. Josh is almost 16, and has his learner's permit. His voice has mostly changed, and now Gabe's voice is starting to change. WHERE DOES THE TIME GO?!? I'm so happy, though, because they are both such good kids. Just, truly, really good kids. I worry about Josh's anxiety, and I actually worry that Gabe may have some struggles at some point, because he has some issues and doesn't open up and talk about his feelings like Josh does. But they have such good hearts, are very giving, and are wonderful "cousins" to Nate.

Homeschooling Nate is a mixed bag. The first two weeks, I came up with my own "lessons" for him, based on some handouts his teacher had sent home, and based on the free stuff the Scholastic website was making available. Now that the whole no-school thing is going on longer, his teachers have lessons for him to do online, and one of his teachers makes videos to talk to the kids, periodic Zoom chats with herself, kids, and parents, etc. Nate fights a lot on doing his work, particularly this reading program they're having him use called Headsprout. Wifey and I both help him and push him to do his work online. The first two weeks, when I made up lessons for him, I pretty much did it on my own. It was actually kind of fun! But I'm glad his teachers are now setting up stuff for him to do online, so that he can stay more on track with what he'd be doing at school. He goes to a school specifically for autistic kids, and it's such a great place for him. I'm so grateful he's there and not in special ed through the public school system, because public school just doesn't have the resources he really needs.

I had my 39th birthday March 11, right before shit really started hitting the fan, so I got to go out to dinner for my birthday and had a relatively normal birthday.

I say "relatively," because about a week before my birthday, I got sick with what seemed to be a stomach bug. Nausea, pain, sweating, diarrhea, heaving, vomiting. It just kept getting worse, plus I had lost 6 pounds in 4 days. I need to lose weight and I am morbidly obese, but you're not supposed to lose weight that fast. So wifey took me to an urgent care, and I was assuming I'd get some prescription nausea meds to hold me over. Well, the doctor at urgent care didn't like my rapid weight loss, didn't like that I was dizzy, didn't like that my stomach was very tender. he said I needed to go to the ER for more thorough test.

At the ER, they drew blood, gave me IV nausea meds, gave me IV morphine (WHEEEEEE), gave me IV fluids, and did an ultrasound. My bloodwork was normal. But my ultrasound showed gallstones. So, I was discharged with prescription zofran for nausea, and a referral to a surgeon.

When it came time for my appointment with the surgeon, the coronavirus stuff was in full swing, so they did the appointment over the phone. The surgeon said, were it not for the current coronavirus crisis, they'd be scheduling me to have my gallbladder out in two weeks, based on the symptoms I have and the gallstones they can see in the ultrasound. However, they aren't doing non emergency surgeries while the coronavirus crisis is so bad. So, I'm eating a low fat diet to try to prevent any blockages and to manage my symptoms, until things calm down enough that they can schedule me for surgery.

The low fat diet helps a lot. I only get the really severe nausea maybe once a week or so, and I have the zofran for that (I pray I don't run out before I can get surgery). I have pain, but it's tolerable. The bloating and pressure is pretty uncomfortable, but I can tolerate it. Surprisingly (and happily), alcohol doesn't make it worse. So, I'm still able to have a few drinks here and there. And because my diet is more limited than usual due to having to eat low-fat, wifey has been letting me pick up whatever I want to eat at the store, so I'm having snacks like multiple dill pickles, hummus, etc. I can do okay with eggs and cheese, but in very limited quantities. Surprisingly, I do okay with avocado and guacamole, maybe because those are "good" fats? I don't know.

Oh, so I've been working on my loom knitting, and I had been practicing on my afghan loom. I was almost to the point where I was ready to cast off to see if I'd mastered it yet. My first attempt was messed up, and I found out I need to use a different kind of cast off. But you have to have enough rows on the loom before you can try the cast off. I'd put many hours of work into this second practice attempt, over the course of a couple of months. Well, a couple of nights ago, I was trying to eat a salad before bedtime. It had light dressing and fake bacon bits in it. I also was trying to carry a glass of milk, two pillows, and a comforter. I was miffed, because nobody was offering to help me carry all this stuff, and of course I wasn't going to ask, because I'm just that way. Well, when I tried to put the bowl of salad on the nightstand, I missed, and it spilled ALL OVER MY AFGHAN LOOM AND THE PRACTICE PROJECT THAT WAS ON IT. I had to frog the whole thing, because the yarn was soaked in salad dressing. I had to take all the yarn off and throw it away, and then meticulously clean between all the pegs on my afghan loom (it looks like a big infinity symbol; there are a lot of pegs). I was so fucking upset.

My cat is okay!

2019-12-10T22:18:02Z

Back from the vet!!! Lydia just had an abscess. They drained it, and she'll be on antibiotics. I am SO RELIEVED.

Sick cat.

2019-12-10T13:48:08Z

I have been shitty about posting/replying AGAIN, and I hate that I feel that I lack the time, energy, spoons, etc to be as active on here as I'd like. I'm sorry.

My cat Lydia is sick. Her face is swollen under her eye. She goes to the vet at 3:30. I am TERRIFIED that she has cancer, because this is very similar to what happened with my cat Luna several years ago, and she had to be put to sleep. Lydia's eye isn't bulging like Luna's was, but it seems very similar otherwise. She also lost a pound or two, but the vet wasn't really concerned at her annual checkup, because she was fine otherwise, and she'd gotten picky about a different food. However, once she got back on her preferred food, she still hasn't gained the weight back, and now her face is swollen and her eye is watering. TBH, I am NOT optimistic about this at all. She isn't very old (approx 7), but she's the same age Pandora was when she died due to lymphoma. So, just all the way around, I am expecting the worst and really fucking upset right now.

phantomdaae1981 @ 2019-09-03T00:54:00

2019-09-03T04:54:31Z

I want to write a proper blog, but I've been so exhausted with all the housekeeping and taking care of a special needs child almost on my own, I just don't have the energy.

When I get free moments where I'm not just trying to sleep, I find myself playing YoWorld or practicing loom knitting on my afghan loom, or drinking alcohol and listening to random music on YouTube.

I'm just so exhausted.

I'm trying to hold everyone else together, and I don't have enough left to write about my own shit properly, even though I want to.

phantomdaae1981 @ 2019-09-01T18:51:00

2019-09-01T22:51:51Z

Very overwhelmed, crying at the drop of a hat, exhausted physically and emotionally. I feel like I am drowning.

This isn't just about laundry.

2019-07-26T23:34:47Z

I feel like eating a handful of moonshine-infused cherries, and I just might do it. Because men are trash, and I am NOT YOUR FUCKING LAUNDRY MAID.

Either put the laundry in the basket or in the basement, without the socks balled up, or I AM DONE DOING YOUR FUCKING LAUNDRY.

You don't get to throw a hissy fit and leave the room in order to avoid saying something you'll regret, leaving the unspoken words hanging there, so I can worry and wonder and overthink what you were gonna say.

"Before I say something I regret," when you know saying even THAT means I'm gonna torment myself all night wondering what you were gonna say to me.

So, yeah, now your laundry is thrown into your drawer, unfolded, because why the fuck would I continue folding your laundry after that, and who the fuck do you think you are

Gonna take me doing your laundry for granted, suggest *I* un-ball your socks, and then act like *I* am in the wrong for suggesting you do your own laundry if you are going to make all these precious little requests?

And this isn't just about laundry, because I know I must sound very "extra" going on about laundry. It's about so much more than that.

AND WHY THE FUCK IS LIVEJOURNAL SAYING MY IP ADDRESS IS TEMPORARILY BANNED. I CAN'T RIGHT NOW. (NB: Had to change password, apparently; I originally wrote all this on Twitter.)

I JUST WANTED TO BINGE WATCH OITNB TONIGHT AND MAKE LOVE, AND NOW I AM TOO UPSET TO DO ANYTHING AT ALL.

I don't want to cry

i was so upset, i forgot my dog was still outside and so now i am garbage too

My first tattoo :-)

2019-07-23T22:29:23Z

Saturday, I got my first tattoo, in celebration of my 10 years of recovery from self-injury.

A local animal rescue group had partnered with a local tattoo shop, to provide 40 dollar tattoos, with all the proceeds going to the animal rescue group. There were two sheets of tattoos you could choose from.

I chose a semi-colon tattoo with a pawprint as part of it. I've wanted a semi-colon tat for awhile, because I love what it represents (look up Project Semi-Colon), and animals are dear to me and are part of what motivates me to work on being the best person I can be.

I was very nervous about getting the tattoo. Wifey had told me the pain was going to be horrific. As it turns out, it really didn't hurt that bad. I was literally like: "That's it?"

I was also very nervous about my scars. I picked a place on my right arm, which is much less scarred than my left, but still has noticeable scars on it. But the tattoo artist didn't act fazed at all. He told me he'd tattooed over scars that were more raised than mine before, and that if I ever wanted to get tattoos over any of my scars, it was absolutely possible, as long as I went to an experienced tattoo artist (one with familiarity with scar tissue), and as long as the scars were completely healed for a long time. This was awesome information to receive, because that means I have more options than I thought for placement of future tattoos I would like to save up for and to get at some point in time.

It was an incredible experience, and I am so fucking happy.

My best friend Mary went with me, and she also got a tattoo. We had to wait a couple of hours, and the tattoo place texted us when they were ready for us. So we spent the time going to a cute little handcrafted items shop, a HUGE antique shop (I got rainbow unicorn salt and pepper shakers and a book for Nate), and then getting iced coffee, because it was hot as balls outside. It was really good having some quality one-on-one time with her, just hanging out and chatting.

I've been in pretty good spirits since Saturday, although the itching as the tattoo heals is kinda driving me crazy right now!

Recovery.

2019-07-20T12:34:28Z

As of today, I have not self-injured in 10 years!!!

Since I'm supposed to be sorry for everything.

2019-05-14T05:11:44Z