I've been looking at Boxer blogs-Dogs With Blogs. I had to come away, because I realized looking at the pictures and podcasts reminded me of the puppies, which reminded me of Crusty, and of Fox.
It's bittersweet to feel again. Crusty really hurt Fox and me; I really miss Fox. But for a while I've been so apathetic I thought I'd stopped feeling.
I must have been sick for a while-oops, sorry, nutritionally deficient-but the last few symptoms put it all together for everyone (loss of balance; mental vagueness; profound depression-which someone who has known me practically forever kept saying he wasn't buying into; and another one I can't recall...oh right, no appetite). It helps that a medical journal published an article on riboflavin poisoning-looking at the effects of a deficiency is what made everyone say "Well, DUH!" They ruled out MS when I responded so quickly to treatment. Did I give thanks yet for BC/BS?
I'm not going to feel great for a while, but I do feel less aprehensive about the future. I was feeling rather frail there for a longer period than I'd realized, and had begun thinking about retirement/nursing homes-hey! I'm fifty, not that old especially in this lifetime, and to think I was losing my manual dexterity, flexibility, and physical strength to the point that I was afraid to think about a two story home was quite upsetting. I really didn't have the energy to think about building a home with a loft, much less contemplate the required dragging of my ancient self up the stairs four or five times a day.
Another signal something was REALLY wrong was that I was losing track of time. The anniversary of the divorce came and went and I'd completely forgot. I was walking around in a fog, and only recalled and celebrated the 9th of September as my dad's birthday.
Some may say that is a sign of my having moved on-it's not; for me the double celebration is a fantastic thing and you can trust me 100% that I do not grieve on that day so much as celebrate with my whole heart. But I really didn't remember the divorce for a few days, and my apathy toward it was the first step toward getting help. Sounds odd, I know, but the fact is that apathy is one of my bigger signals that something is seriously wrong, always has been.
SOOOOOOO, I tire easily, but less easily than last week. I know this because last weekend all I could manage was ironing a blouse for work. This weekend I've managed to tidy the house some, flea bathe the dog, and treat the house for fleas-where the hell did they come from?
I spent HOURS downloading nutritional information. Ask me, I've got the cream of all the crops sown by the best sites.
My concentration will eventually be restored to it's former total focus-I know my boss will be glad for that:)
My short term memory is coming back-I woke up in the middle of the night thinking of three things I really needed to accomplish this weekend. I told myself to get up and write them down but I fell back to sleep worrying that if I did get up to find a pen and paper to write the thoughts down, I would have forgot the three things in the effort to get up to find a pen and paper.
The three things were still in my conscious when I awoke this morning. And I accomplished the three things.
Crusty thought he'd sentenced me to a lifetime of food insecurity, poverty, and fear. He did so because I vociferiously objected to his lifestyle, which included Central and South American prostitutes, and mental cruety not only to me, but most importantly to Fox. What he did has taken an unspeakable toll on Fox and me. I believe the day will come when Crusty answers for what he did to my family.
What he did was wrong. He made it worse when he tried to destroy any witness of his calculated cruelty to Fox, to me; when he tried to render me meaningless, invisible, and hated by my son.
In a couple of weeks it will St Jude's again, the anniversary of the day I went for my first of three HIV tests. I'll light a candle.
In a few days, I will have been blogging for one year. I'll light a candle