Phil Wickham When My Heart is Torn Asunder

Wednesday, March 11, 2015

Considerings


This morning I am going out with my new caseworker for breakfast and to get some support while I pay my bills...which has always been difficult for me.  (have I mentioned lately how much I miss my old case worker, who has gone on to a different job?) This is not the place for complaints so I will not go into that.  And after that we are going to my Pdoc (psychiatrist PA who prescribes my meds). This pdoc is relatively new to me, but I like her a lot.  She's tough but I think she is also compassionate.

Also today is "weigh-day"...Wednesdays and Sundays I weigh myself.  I used to weigh myself daily but then my mood was up and down based on what the scale said.  I do wonder about this method  though because often, depending on how bloated I was with fluid or "other" substances, my weight can vary from day to day by 3 or more pounds.  So what if on a Wed. or Sun.. I encounter a heavy day?  Well if my emotions are severed from the scale, that really wouldn't matter...but they still have the power to make or break my day...(week?).  I had been really lax with pursuing my Eat to Live program and the scales were starting to creep higher and higher..until I had gained 4 pounds back.  Beginning this past Monday, I have been following it pretty faithfully.  It will be interesting to see if the scale reflects that yet.  It may take another three or four days before that happens.

I stopped taking one of my meds because I have reason to believe that it is behind my tendency to eat more than I should be.  It's not a critical med....just to help me sleep and it can also boost the effect of my other meds.   Well I don't need help falling asleep and I am dubious about any other  benefit it is supposedly granting me.  No one seems to be concerned that I am on way too many meds. Some of them are essential....but to some of them I want to say , "Why are you here?"  My husband is scared to agree that I stop any meds because mentally I am balancing on a log in the water...and for the moment am doing okay.  But I do not think that the meds I  take are so critical to my well being.  I think my well being comes from a different place than the cup full of meds I swallow twice a day.

I have been bothered by a couple of things.  One of them is my lack of emotion.  I am not up or down.  I'm just floating in the nebulous "nowhere" emotionally.   I have real trouble motivating myself to do some things.  I was just talking about this to my dad yesterday.  Even things that should be fun....like starting my next knitting project...really pose problems to my motivation.  Putting away laundry is a nemesis to me...it's common for an entire week to go by with the laundry basket full of laundry sitting on the living room floor..   Why?? It's not intimidating.  It requires no special skill....why does the thought of it  fill me with dread?  Maybe it is because doing that really causes my back to hurt...as does, doing the dishes.  I have not done anything creative in a long time.  I have no creative "edge"  ---- I have no angst to spill and no joy to report.  I just am floating in this grayness...sucking it in to my lungs and incorporating it into my cells.  "Gray matter?"  Why do they call it that?  Is the brain literally gray?  Maybe gray matters.  Maybe it's the normal place of the normal person.   However I am not a normal person. I used to be creative...I used to bleed poetry.  I used to create beauty.  Now?  I sit in my recliner in my sort of messy room and just wander around online killing time....wasting what is left of my life.  Soon I may be blind. What should I be doing while I still can?  Putting away laundry?

It's so frustrating because pain interjects it's ugly voice into everything I do or want to do.  I would like to travel  around a bit...even just locally. and paint. but both the traveling and the painting cause problems.  I would like to memorize some more poetry and  some Scripture....so that if the lights go out I can still have that stuff to recall and bring me some pleasure.  Even doing that finds its own wall of resist`ance.  What is on my "bucket list"?  And is it too late to pursue any of that? Given my limitations, what is that bucket full of ?  (OK don't say what I know  you are thinking).

Am I depressed? Or just frustrated.  Is this nothingness natural?  My daughter sits and day after day draws lovely, interesting things in her sketchpad...and I am jealous because I am bereft of ideas.  Does mental illness quash ideas?  Or is it the meds that are at fault?  I would think that all these random visions in my head would provide some matter for con-sketch-eration.  But no, they are gone to the nether world from whence they have arrived, far too quickly to be grasped and recalled. At one point recently when they were appearing every few seconds, I tried to write down what they were....and then I lost that paper.  It could be in one of  thirty notebooks....and it didn't make any sense anyway...those few disabled words did not adequately describe what I saw....at least not well enough to re-create the scene in words or images.

Well  now that I've completely depressed you.....NO! Walk away JOYFUL. Cherish your life, your lack of pain, cherish your mind that works add your body that does your bidding.  Have a bucket list filled full of possibility and pursue it, being grateful for your ability too work and to play and to create.....because all of that might be gone tomorrow.  Thank your Creator....and get to know him while you can.  Thank Him for every blessing he has given you.  Go now. Do something that matters.




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