November 2015 in 2010s

MONDAY, NOVEMBER 30, 2015
We went to Walgreens real early in the morning and it was a miserable 28°. I should have just stayed home, but I do like my Dollhouse Pink lipstick. This is the 4-hour Megalast in the form of a stick instead of the 8-hour Megalast that you brush on. Not only does bright pink look much better on me than I thought it would, but the stuff is perfect. It’s not dry and stiff or all over my teeth. I haven’t had to moisten it with lip balm either.

I spent the last couple of days fine-tuning the cross-posting to Blogger and LiveJournal. I had problems with margins, picture sizing, and paragraphs disappearing on me, so rather than copy the text from Word, it seems to work better if I just do it directly in an email and then copy it to Word.

I might have to get a new keyboard since there is an important key that doesn’t want to work very easily lately.

A couple of nights ago I heard gunshots at about 1:30 in the morning. Tom usually checks national and international news so I asked him to do a quick check of the local news and see if anything happened at that time. A couple of people did shoot and kill each other in a south Sacramento restaurant, but that was a whole 20 miles away. Could I really hear that far even though the timeframe was right?

Someone asked me if I believe there’s anything up there that picks and chooses what happens to us, or if I think it’s all random. The truth is I don’t have a clue. All I know is that I hope nothing up there would actively choose for bad things to happen to us, but again, I don’t have a clue.

My dreams were anything but pleasant last night. In one dream I had to kill an intruder and it took me forever to do it because I was doing it with nothing but my fists and feet. It looked like I was going to be the one to be killed at first, but when I thought of never seeing Tom again or getting to visit my sister, it gave me the strength to deliver the blow that would knock them unconscious. Then I could stomp on his neck and kick his head in since my chokeholds didn’t seem to work.

In another dream, we were at some lodge or something. There was like a community room and then people’s bedrooms kind of surrounded it. Some guy was hanging around who made me feel kind of uncomfortable and I didn’t want to be alone. I started off playing some game on a handheld device with half a dozen or so people around me in that room as well as adjoining rooms. But then when I looked up after a while I saw that I was alone. I quickly gathered up my stuff and ran into our room where Tom was asleep. At first I worried the guy killed him, but once I felt confident that he was sleeping and not dead, I got into bed as well.

SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 29, 2015
“I would rather make enemies being who I am than many friends being who I’m not.”

Great quote, whoever wrote it.

Winter is upon us full force and the only good in it is that a lot of spiders have been killed off as we finally hit freezing. I hate it otherwise, and the thought of spending that many more years here kind of makes me want to scream at times. Oh well. At least it doesn’t snow here.

I also realized I like this house better than any house we’ve ever had together, regardless of climate or what you can hear outside of it. I hated the layout of the Phoenix house, and while the Maricopa house was newer, two people simply don’t need 2170 square feet of space, even if they like to collect a bunch of junk. It had a very unique layout, and it did have a few positive traits over this house, but for the most part, the layout and spacing of this house are much more ideal for us.

Some of the fairy elves and animal figurines started arriving and they’re so adorable. The bird lady is just okay, but the figure skater is fantastic! The golden retriever puppy and the otter are so adorably cute.

I had another dream where Simone was suddenly back living with us and I was determined to keep her this time around. But then my determination was shot by the realization of knowing that sooner or later my asthma would flare up and I would have wheezing and congestion all over again, and that she really couldn’t stay.

Then I had a strange dream where Tom and I were riding in the car somewhere at night. Suddenly, all the numbers digitally displayed along the dashboard were upside down. We pulled into a parking lot somewhere and I saw a cop car slowly go by with its lights off I wasn’t even sure at first if it was a cop car or not. I wondered if they were on the lookout for an escaped convict in the area.

Then I was the escaped convict. I don’t know what I was convicted of, but I apparently managed to break out of prison somehow. I was in a busy diner watching a news broadcast about myself on their TV. The woman spoke of how I was smarter than the average inmate and how I managed to fool them because I had been observant and understanding of many things. I appreciated the compliments on my intellect but wasn’t thrilled with the fact that they seemed to know my whereabouts.

SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 28, 2015
I have had a wonderfully lazy but productive night. I worked mostly on the things I love… writing and collecting pics. I have nearly 5K pics pinned on Pinterest now.

I just wish I wasn’t so damn cold! For a while there I was freezing, especially my hands and nose. I had to bump the temp up and throw a robe on over my clothes. It’s not even December yet and I’m already dying for summer. I hate winter!

Andy said his mom said I looked like dad in the selfie I took for him to give to her, as she wanted. So to her, I look like my dad, whereas to Andy I look like my sister, and earlier his mom said I looked like my mom. Argh! I wouldn’t say I’m insulted, as I know people can’t help but notice resemblances here and there, but it’s frustrating always being compared to others. I’m my own individual self and for the most part, I just want to look like me.

FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 27, 2015
For my upcoming birthday, Tom spoiled me with an Amazon order last night. I’m getting another one of those short-sleeved Sakkas dresses. This one goes from orange to cream to turquoise.

I’m also getting a whopping 13 miniature animal and elf pieces to add to my collection. Still not sure if we’re going to end up buying display cases or building them, but I now have 57 pieces. A few pieces are too big for a display case, though. My hermit crab is pretty big, and of course, my rattlesnake is life-size.

Sooo… life is good and it’s great not having to wake up and wonder where my heart and anxiety might take me that day. I should never or at least almost never need lorazepam, though it’s still nice to know it’s available if need be.

THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 26, 2015
50 Shades of Grey = 50 Shades of Boring. Yeah, I finally saw it on HBO. Really don’t see what all the hype is all about, which was the only reason I watched it in the first place. There was a lot less action than I expected there to be. It was hardly “violent,” and the woman wasn’t forced to do anything she didn’t want to do.

It also wasn’t very realistic since rich people rarely go for poor people. To each their own, as I believe that as long as no one is being forced to do anything they don’t want to do and are happy, that’s what matters most. However, I never understood the point of the whole dominant/submissive thing. I just can’t imagine anyone wanting to be flogged, whipped or smacked, and I don’t see why anyone would take pleasure in doing this to anyone else either. But again, that’s just me.

WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 25, 2015
I passed the adrenaline test, but my cholesterol is still too high, according to what Doc O just told me. It fucking figures. It really does. Not going back on statins anytime soon, though. I’ve had enough dealing with medication for a while. One step at a time! Maybe next year, though.

At least my triglycerides are normal if I read it correctly. It’s my total, HDL and LDL cholesterol levels that are high. Out of borderline, high and crazy high, it looks like I’m high.

Noticed the #ThanksgivingWithWhiteFamilies that surfaced and was like, wow! You mean we can have these things without being called racists? That’s a first. And a refreshing change for once, too. Equality. I’m all for it. :)

Got a lop-eared rabbit and a Siamese cat on the way with my survey money to add to my miniature animal collection. We’re going to look at display cases at Michael’s in case we decide to buy one instead of making our own. Just not this week, though. Life will basically be on hold for the next 5 weeks. I hate this time of year! Plus it’s barely after 7pm and already in the 30s out there. We might actually freeze tonight. Wish we’d gone to SoCal instead of NorCal since we weren’t smart enough to skip Oregon and Cali altogether and just go to Florida from Arizona, but at least this isn’t very northern Cali.

I’m glad Tom has the next 4 days off; it just would’ve been nice if he could’ve had this many days off when I was suffering a few weeks ago. He’ll be busy installing the new garbage disposal and trimming trees.

TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 24, 2015
Used my new hot pink detangling brush fresh out of the shower and it still works great. Then I received my pale pink straightening brush. I had to wait for my hair to dry, but I love it! Much easier to use than to clamp sections of hair in a flat iron. The only thing that might be hard would be if I still had bangs. Doing the very ends is a little tricky too, but I otherwise love it.

While my hair still looks shabby, using a leave-in silicone-based hair conditioner has helped make it at least feel a lot smoother. As someone pointed out, my bad thyroid probably had a hand in destroying my hair, and not just dye. It should get better, though, as it grows out.

I asked my niece about what dyes she recommends as being less harsh on the hair, and she said they all are bad as far as the chemicals go. Yeah, this doesn’t surprise me.

I’m torn on the Syrian refugees. I feel bad for what they’re going through. I can’t imagine us having to up and run from our home cuz of some crazy war. But I still don’t think it should be up to us to pick up the pieces when other countries fall apart. There are too many people right here that need help yet why does it only seem to matter if they’re foreigners?

Had 3 separate dreams involving my deceased Italian foster parents who I will always miss the hell out of. I was swimming with Dad (at his house in MA?) and then I went inside to visit as they were packing their items in preparation to sell the house and head to Florida. Some woman was visiting as well.

I told them I wouldn’t be moving to Florida for 8 years and said that by then they should know the area well enough to show me around.

Mom then asked me if I wanted a garbage disposal and I told her I just got one, and since I only had “an attic and one small room,” I didn’t have room for much anyway.

Then she sat down on the couch with a worn-out sigh. I asked if she was sad and she nodded.

In the second dream, I seemed to be homeless and rejected by them. I walked into a screened-in patio with a lumpy surface. I could feel the “knobs” even through my running shoes. I knocked on their back door. Dad opened it, said something softly to me, and then he closed the door. I then glanced sadly at the pool in back and started to leave. Then I returned later on after dark, accidentally letting the door slam really loud behind me. I wondered if it had woken them as I made my way along the now-carpeted patio and to a corner against the wall where I hoped to get some sleep.

In the last dream, I lived right next to them. They were still getting ready to sell out and relocate. I entered in back and called out to Mom. Then I wished I hadn’t left my music playing so loud because she didn’t hear me the first time. When she noticed me I said, “Just returning your bowls,” and I placed a small stack of bowls and a few other items down on a table.

She asked if I knew where the scissors were and I tapped my forehead and said, “Think, think, think… I think they’re in this drawer,” and I walked over to a bunch of drawers along one wall and opened it.

I turned my head toward where their washer and dryer were and asked if I could do my laundry there one last time since I had the same setup we had in the trailer where we had just a tiny portable washer and had to hang dry clothes all over the place.

MONDAY, NOVEMBER 23, 2015
This forced censorship we’ve got on most sites really gets to me at times. If people stumble upon something they find offensive, why can’t they just move on and leave it at that? No one’s forced to read it. No subject under the sun will ever fail to offend at least someone somewhere. Seriously, I am so sick of people’s sensitivity! How can we call ourselves the Land of the Free and claim we have “freedom of speech” we don’t really have? And why are derogatory names for particular groups only okay if everyone involved hates them? If everybody agrees a certain group sucks, then it’s okay to call them something derogatory. But if one person happens to like them, then it’s not okay. WTF?

There really is no pleasing everyone. Had I been a totally different person with a blog full of totally different opinions, beliefs, fears, phobias, health issues, lifestyles and experiences, somebody somewhere would have a problem with that, too. Nobody sees everything the same. One will see a quiet person as shy while another we’ll see them as stuck-up. It’s okay to disagree, but it would be nice if so many people would stop expecting the world to conform to what they consider correct just because not everyone wants to hear it. I can totally see not posting sensitive information, but if you don’t like the words or subjects people mention, there are a million websites with a million different subjects, wording, etc. Why not just accept we don’t all think the same and move on? I’m sick of having to watch what I say here and watch what I say there just because others can’t handle it!

My new detangling hairbrush arrived today and I LOVE it! It works great and feels so good on my scalp, too. I just wish my hair wasn’t in such shit shape. I need to either stop dying it or try to find a dye that won’t fry my hair so much. I have nothing but a head of frizz and fuzz now, even with special leave-in conditioners.

My dreams were too vague to actually put into words. It seemed one of my old docs and one of my current docs was in them. That reminds me… they never posted my lab results online and I wonder why. Did they just forget to? Or is it bad news they’d rather hit me with in person? It can’t be that bad, can it? Or else they’d have called, right?

SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 22, 2015
Just sitting here wondering why my water and hunger levels didn’t drop after my period like they usually do. My weight’s up again at just over the 150-pound marker rather than just under it. I ate plenty yet I want to eat some more. What the fuck is making me so hungry?

Went to Vintage & More where people set up booths to sell their old stuff. There was so much to see there! I contemplated a few items – an Indian doll, a few figurines, a wind chime, a designer purse – but decided not to get anything. Nothing new in Goodwill either, who was right next door.

Before we went out we took the bikes for a longer ride and now I’m not sure if I really like this bike better or not. It seemed “underpowered,” even going downhill, but that’s probably because of the smaller wheels. I also can’t have the seat as low as I’d like because then my knees come up too high when pedaling. The pedals themselves have longer cranks, so that’s part of it, too. We’re still tweaking gears and things like that.

My memory has improved with medication, but it’s still not what it used to be and it frustrates me at times. I used to have such a great memory, too. Tom still feels it’s good for my age, and I agree. But still, it’s noticeably worse and I didn’t expect it to start worsening this young. I thought I wouldn’t start noticing it till my 60s or 70s, but an article he read said our memory and ability to learn as fast declines as young as 45. He’s noticed a difference in his own ability to think, process and retain information since he started taking these supplements that are related to the CoQ 10 he takes.

My short-term memory is still worse than my long-term, but they’re both not as good as they used to be. Funny that we get smarter with age, but we just can’t remember half the shit we’ve learned. I constantly have to take notes. I’ve realized that not remembering where things are around here, as organized as I am, isn’t just a matter of accumulating so much stuff to keep track of. It’s also a matter of me simply not having the memory I once had. This is why I want to go through the house sometime and inventory our stuff. Not the unimportant things like decorative knickknacks, but everyday household items.

I’ll also do a journal entry and then realize I forgot to mention a few things in it later on. Like how Tom scared the shit out of me after work on Thursday. It usually takes him a half-hour to get home, but 50 minutes later I was getting worried. There was an accident on the freeway that held him up.

Later…

While I still don’t usually get depressed or overly anxious, especially with the severity that I experienced when my T4 was too high, I do still get angry at times. Tom jokes and says that when I’m pissed off at the world, he knows I’m back to “normal.” It’s true. Anger is my dominant negative emotion and today there were a few things that pissed me off even if they probably shouldn’t have.

When I was struggling with the gears on the new bike I felt a surge of rage course through my veins again at whoever stole my other bike. I suddenly got a strong urge to beat the shit out of them, whoever they are. If I could have magically known their address, I would literally have had Tom drive me over there.

But as always, God protects my perps.

Always.

It’s been that way all my life and that’s not only infuriating, but also a bit scary. To know I could be murdered and that He would protect my murderer and make sure they were never caught is anything but a thrilling thing to know. How do I know? I don’t know how I know, but I just do. I truly believe that that would be the case. No one has ever had to pay in the slightest way for screwing me over and I know that will never change this late in life. It just pisses me off and frustrates me. Do I not deserve justice any more than anybody else? Well, if there is a God up there that actively picks and chooses what happens to us, it apparently doesn’t think so. He always makes sure I either don’t know who my perps are, don’t know where they are, or that I have something big to lose if I did know where they were. It’s only because of my nieces that I’m not going to seek out and pummel their father, but then if it weren’t for my respect for them and I did maul his ass, I would be the one to land in jail with my shit luck, while he never did a second of time for abusing others. That’s the whole point I’m making here… screw you over and I pay. Screw me over and I still pay.

It would just be nice if people would stop screwing me over. I don’t want to screw them over, so why do they do it to me? They don’t do it as often as they used to and I know I should have locked the damn bike up, but still… it’s like something Andy once said. He’s had problems with being stood up and he threw his hands up in frustration and said, “But why? I have never done this to anyone before in my life. Ever.”

And what was my worst crime in life? Telling a lie? Stealing a pack of cigarettes or a candy bar as a kid? Prank calling someone? Egging a car? Not wanting every single goddamn man and woman that hit on me when I was young and thin?

Oh, wow. Just wow. That really deserves a lot of the shit I got in life, doesn’t it?

Another thing that pissed me off was when I was watching an episode of Criminal Minds. This particular story was about a stalker and how they kept saying that they really couldn’t do anything unless the stalker actually did something. Well, even if I’d been 100% guilty of the letter the blacks received (unless it was as fabricated by their black pig pal as I suspect it was), I never did anything to those sick freeloaders. I never wanted to do anything to them either. I just wanted them to shut up and stop throwing trash over the block wall. That’s all I ever wanted.

I know, however, that my sentence wasn’t just about their connections or the “crime” itself, but mainly about them being black and me being white. Had they been just as white as I am, it never would have come to jail as strict as Arizona is. And yes, Arizona is a lot like Texas. But ever since the L.A. riots we’ve been going harder on whites and easier on blacks, as if this could possibly justify, undo or make up for the shitty way blacks were retreated 100 years ago by those who aren’t even alive today.

The point is the same – people stalk and get away with it while I get screwed for writing something I didn’t write. Never have I ever appeared in court for anything I ever actually did. It was all about what I was supposed to have said/written, and while some of those allegations were, in fact, true, shouldn’t actions speak louder than words? Really, I’m sick and tired of hearing about law enforcement wasting precious time and resources investigating threats. I can see if someone’s actually acted on a threat before, but otherwise, words are just words.

Then I got re-pissed off just at the thought of stalkers in general. Real, actual, honest-to-God stalkers. Not people who make bogus threats that anyone can make, or say things the general population doesn’t want to hear, but genuine stalkers. Not that I expect one to latch onto me now that I’m fat and aging, but I’m the type that’s much more likely to get pissed than scared, and for a second I almost wished one would fuck with me, not just so I could do society a favor by helping to ensure they thought better of it next time, but to watch the look on their faces as I ran toward them in a rage rather than away from them in fear and thus giving them what they want and get off on. That oughta be priceless.

Fit, fast and full of rage or not, I’d rather be as I usually am most of the time… bubbly, creative, quick to laugh and joke, eager to try new things, and compassionate. Or at least compassionate in what I feel deserves compassion and not what society has deemed “politically correct.” If you get shot by the pigs cuz you twirled a gun in their faces, I’m not going to feel bad for you just cuz you’re black. If you got killed in an earthquake or your house burned down, though, then I’d probably feel for you.

SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 21, 2015
Tom and I were laughing our asses off yesterday. He said, “Who’d have thought a few years ago that we’d one day be in a position to voluntarily turn down an extra $200,” which would be what he’d have made had he worked today.

“That’s exactly what I was thinking just a few hours earlier,” LOL.

Love the feel of the new bikes! Had to adjust the seat and handlebars a bit, and the gears still need adjusting, but it feels a lot like the Cruiser when I set the gear to #2 out of 6.

I may be thinner and in better shape than hubby but am so glad he has bigger, stronger hands and fingers so he can tighten things up well. The bike feels “safer” overall than the one that was stolen because adult bikes are simply too big for me, and this bike is suitable for those shorter than me to over 6’, though Tom said he can’t imagine anyone that tall being able to ride it. He had to push his handlebars away from him to keep his knees from hitting them. Because he raised his seat and handlebars to a very “adult” setting, it kinda looks funny being so far from the smaller wheels, but we’re both happy. :) Today we brought them outdoors (locked safely in the storeroom) because the smell of the rubber tires inside the house was gross.

Got a little camcorder we can mount to the bike and sometime I’ll film my ride around the park and maybe to the lake, too.

Tom read a surprising and interesting article about sugar levels in the body they thought they’d figured out a long time ago, but that still remains a mystery. They thought the general rule was that if you ate sugar, your blood sugar would rise, thus putting you at risk of weight gain. While it still works this way at times, they studied what several people ate and found that different people had different reactions to the same foods, as well as surprising reactions to healthy ones. One woman couldn’t lose weight by eating healthy and exercising. It showed that after eating healthy veggies her blood sugar soared, though they have no idea why.

I still say the vast majority of us over 40 are heavy and always will be, so there’s no point in obsessing over it. Eating healthy and working out is great to keep us healthy and prevent further weight gain, but the severe calorie restrictions required to lose weight and keep it off just isn’t sustainable with the way it can make you feel like shit… always hungry, sluggish, irritable, etc. That’s why, after all, most of us older folks do stay fat.

The dream people got a little trigger-happy on me last night. I was in a small building somewhere and it was nighttime. A guy headed out the door, and just as he opened it I heard a male voice shout, “Don’t shoot!”

Then I saw flashes and heard loud pops as gunfire was exchanged. I ran toward the back of the building, figuring that if I put more walls between the shooters and I, it would be less likely that I’d be hit.

FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 20, 2015
Yesterday I felt great and was full of energy unlike the day before when I had a scratchy throat and felt rundown. But this morning I experienced that strange tingling/numbness in my upper left lip as I have on and off for the last week or two, and then I had the runs. I’m sure it’s nothing, though.

Anyway, I’m getting things done around here. Worked out, did some laundry, and now I’m just looking forward to the arrival of our new bikes.

Tom was told it was up to him whether or not he worked tomorrow and he said he’d go home and leave it up to his wife. He said if I want money, he’ll work. If I want him home, he won’t. LOL, that’s very sweet of him, but I’d never ask him to choose work over staying home when he works so many 10-11-hour shifts and we’re not desperate right now.

THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 19, 2015
Poor Aly. She ended up in the hospital due to low iron levels. She passed out during a transfusion and they couldn’t wake her. She’ll be released soon, though.

It was fairly quiet all week, but sure enough, they’re now trimming yet another tree somewhere. I think it’s just outside the park, but it is still loud and annoying.

I forgot to mention that when I was at the doctor, the doctor, two nurses, and another patient were really complimenting my dress, purse, and purple glitter shoes. The nurse told me that a lot of people don’t look good in bright colors but I look outstanding in them. Well, that’s nice, but even if I didn’t, that’s just what I like so I would wear them anyway. :)

My purple and rainbow Sakkas dresses and my hot pink purse definitely get a lot of compliments, that’s for sure.

Finally got sick of Old Navy calling for the bitch that owes them money and gave my number to them, so I answered one of their calls and got them to stop calling.

I hope last night’s dream is a sign that nothing will screw up our vacation completely, even if we don’t make it out of the country since Tom lost his passport. I dreamed the plane was just taking off and I was all excited about seeing Tammy and I said something like, “This is it. See you in just a few hours, big sis!”

I also had a dream I was doing a ballet dance I could never do in real life for a couple of my cousins, and then one of those cousins was doing some dance that I was trying to follow. However, I couldn’t do it to save my life.

Then there was some dream where someone was asking me if I wanted someone’s dog. The person had recently died.

WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 18, 2015
Right now I have a scratchy throat, I’m slightly anxious and slightly short of breath. I haven’t needed any lorazepam and as long as my heart and brain don’t go doing wild things on me, I should be okay. My T4 is stable now, so I don’t expect things to get too crazy. The sore throat is no doubt compliments of yesterday’s flu shot that we got at Rite Aid. My arm isn’t sore though.

I grabbed some Triple Shine sparkly blue nail polish by Sally Hansen and then we grabbed a bite to eat. After that, it was off to go treasure hunting at Goodwill where I lucked out with a cute 16” porcelain Indian doll and a 9” surprisingly heavy and realistic Dalmatian statute. I could do bicep curls with the thing, LOL. Both came to just $12.

I was in and out of my ear doc in a snap. She emailed me the name and number of a company that can make a prosthetic ear for me but as soon as I saw the words “surgery” and “skull,” I said no fucking way. Not in the name of looks and not this late in life. She said I would need surgery to place the posts, which are metal screws that are drilled into the skull so that the prosthesis has something to attach to.

No. Fucking. Way.

I dreamed that Andy moved into a house with his new BF (he doesn’t do relationships, though, and prefers living alone), and then my brother was alive again and I asked him if he’d like to join me on some B&E adventures, LOL.

TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 17, 2015
Went to the lab this morning, which had to take forever since I was fasting. If I’d just eaten and wasn’t so hungry I’d have been in and out in a flash. I just hope my cholesterol isn’t too high! I’m not sure what to guess as far as what the results on that may be, but I doubt my adrenal gland is messed up. It better not be! Now that I’ve fully recovered from my latest T4 storm, I don’t need any more problems for a very long time to come.

It is sooo wonderful to be back to myself! I was literally in tears of joy and relief yesterday when I realized I’d gone days with everything back to normal. There is nothing worse than the same medication that normally makes you feel better taking your pulse and emotions to insane levels at higher doses. But I survived! I’m pissed that I had to suffer, but sometimes they have to make you worse to make you better, and now we know my appropriate dose. Hopefully, I will never again be faced with such horrible heart-pounding anxiety and have these irrational fears of being alone and then end up horribly frustrated and depressed cuz of it.

Pretty sure at this point that the lung tightness was connected to it, but not sure about the IF diet. Not gonna try it again, though. As some have pointed out, thyroid diseases mess with the metabolism and so does extreme dieting. Besides, I don’t want to put myself out just to be someone I’m not meant to be and I’m not meant to be thin in my later years. As long as I’m healthy, the extra 20-30 pounds won’t kill me. I will just keep active and try to eat reasonable amounts of healthy food most days. If I ever do decide to “diet” again in the future I’ll probably aim for the calorie amount that would maintain my ideal weight for this age, which is what most experts recommend these days. That would be about 1400 calories. Not ready to commit to that, though, as I do like my weekend treats. I mean, I could have treats on the diet; I just couldn’t have an unlimited calorie amount. Regardless… for now I just want to focus on being healthy without any drama.

I’m glad I didn’t get the wine coolers after all, since drinking 200-calorie beverages that aren’t healthy isn’t a great idea. But now that the anxiety’s backed off, there’s no need for them.

Going to get flu shots later on, then we’ll browse Goodwill till my ear appointment.

MONDAY, NOVEMBER 16, 2015
So glad that France’s fighting back against the Muzziefuckers that terrorized them, and no, I don’t give a shit who might take offense to these words. If you don’t like it, then get out of here rather than complain because I don’t want to hear it and it won’t change anything. :)

Seriously, what did those sickos expect? When you attack someone (excluding self-defense) how can you not expect a reaction of some kind? While I agree that two wrongs don’t always make a right, sometimes you really do need to fight back otherwise you’re sending the wrong message… one saying you’ll just sit back and take their shit.

I felt good all weekend, but I am not quite ready to allow myself a little bit of hope that I really am over the worst of it. It’s looking good so far, but that’s what I’ve thought numerous times before. From a physiological standpoint, yes, my T4 should now be at a safe and comfortable level that won’t affect my emotions in such a crazy way.

Next is hoping that after I go to the lab on Tuesday for a cholesterol and adrenal gland test there will be no issues there. My cholesterol is likely high even with my thyroid under control because it’s hereditary. However, I’m going to put off going back on statins for now. It won’t be a dire life-threatening emergency if my cholesterol is a little high, and it can wait. It’s just that I’ve had enough medication bullshit for a while.

On Tuesday I will also be seeing my ear doctor and we will both get flu shots.

We still don’t have set travel plans because Tom lost his passport and he isn’t sure what he needs to do to get a new one. We don’t think it will be an issue, but no matter what happens we can still see my sister. She is in the country, after all.

Deciding that the old garbage disposal had seized up enough, we ordered one on Amazon, and we went ahead and got new folding bikes as well. We decided not to go with Schwinn and instead, we got a couple of Stowabikes for $130 each. We spent a lot of time researching and they seem just as good while still being a brand name so it’s easy to get parts as we need them. The only unfortunate thing is that there was no color selection. They only come in white.

We also got a new camera for the trip. I’ll still take my camera but this is like a dash cam kind of camera where you could clip it to a bike and it will record things you ride by. I definitely want to do that sometime, plus I’ll take a home video for my sister. I’ll send it to her in chat since it will be for HER and not all my friends on Facebook as well as hers.

We also stocked up on batteries and we got new lights for the bikes. I’m going over the order now and it looks like I forgot to get the massaging hairbrush I wanted, but I am getting a new straightening hairbrush. My hair is dye-fried anyway, so why not kill it some more?

I also got 8 more miniature Schleich animals, and we are thinking of building a display case with the 3-D printer since I will now have 42 pieces. All we will have to do is add hinges and a Plexiglas door.

I got a panda, a trio of kittens playing, a white-tailed buck, a grizzly bear, and the rest are dogs. They include a golden retriever, a basset hound, a Britton spaniel and a Weimaraner.

Anyway, it was rainy and quiet yesterday. Today I’m sure will be noisy as hell with all the leaves that have been scattered about that they’ll want to suck up.

SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 15, 2015
Yesterday was a great day. I felt wonderful and it was both a productive and relaxing day for us. The only unfortunate thing was knowing that it was only temporary. If the anxiety doesn’t return today then it certainly will by tomorrow, especially since I’ll be alone.

I’m baking chicken legs sprinkled with garlic powder and paprika and soon the rats and I will be feasting on that. Tom is still asleep.

Old Navy keeps calling, but this time I listened to their automated message and the name was definitely not mine, so that’s good. Someone suggested blocking their number, but when I looked up how to block numbers on an Android, it only sends it to voicemail. If you’re still going to get a message anyway, then what’s the point? I don’t usually hear my phone when it rings, and when it does, well, I like my ringtone.

Tom got an LED light that’s about 2 feet long from work. He then printed a stand for it on the 3-D printer and hooked it up to the battery you attached jumper cables to. This is a great way if we ever need emergency lighting.

We also took popsicle sticks and glued them vertically to the bottoms of the 3-D pencil holders with Gorilla glue because I kept knocking them over. This will give them more stability.

On the way back from Walmart we notice that someone trimmed our bush for us in the back corner, and we’re guessing it was Bob. You know how he is… always outside, always gotta be doing something, LOL. If we could just get a little more rain it would make trimming things a lot easier. I guess things need to fill out a little more, according to Tom.

Now that we know people will help themselves to things like bikes, we joke about leaving our old bikes that we got up in Oregon and other things unlocked for anyone to take off our hands so we have less to have to dump.

I looked at a bike yesterday that was suitable for me for just 80 bucks. But then Tom and I researched Schwinn folding bikes and decided we should each get one of those, even though they would be about $250. This way they would be safe inside the house (we’d keep them in the laundry room), and they wouldn’t get weathered. I could decorate them all I wanted with snazzy stickers, LOL, since the bikes would probably be a solid neutral color. It would also be easier to take them to bike trails for variety instead of always just riding around the park. The cool thing is that we can both get 20” wheels. The thing is that the seat has a much wider range of height levels than regular bikes do. You can ride them at 4.5 feet to over 6 feet. At 4’11” and 5’10” this is nice to know.

The decorative switch plate for the laundry room and my Goddesses coloring book arrived yesterday. Unfortunately, the book is two-sided without perforated pages and the paper is very thin, but I otherwise like it. It would be ideal to take on the plane.

My miniature skunk came as well, and I looked up the company that makes them on Pinterest. Sure enough, I could find most of mine and am pinning them to a board that includes the ones I currently have since they are better photographers than I am.

Didn’t realize my brother’s last wife no longer thought too highly of him in the end, but I’m not surprised. The guy may have had a sense of humor, but he was otherwise a real asshole. Just an insensitive, hypocritical jerk. I’m glad he and Tammy got to have a good talk before he died, but that does nothing to change my overall opinion of the whore who not only shit on me a few times but left a wonderful wife all in the name of lust.

But he didn’t leave Sandy for another woman, he left her for a child. Just for the hell of it, I looked up that child-turned-young-woman, Stefanie, on Pinterest and asked her if she thought Larry would have dumped her by now. My guess is yes since she’s getting “older.”

She hit back with something to the effect of me not having anything better to do, and this was when I let her know I really didn’t have anything against her and that in a sense she was a victim as well.

She told me that Larry left her with his son to care for and that he didn’t give a shit to leave him anything to remember him by. While I’ll admit that my brother was out of my life, for the most part, He seemed to live for 5 things only… cigarettes, pot, booze, sex and trucking. No wonder the poor bastard died of liver cancer before he even hit 60.

SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 14, 2015
So the Muzzies’ latest attack is on Paris, and as usual, politically correct America MUST make excuses for them and insist they’re “good” people, just like they make excuse after excuse for the blacks. And why wouldn’t they? People are obsessed with victim-blaming after all, and making excuses for the perps, or else so many rape victims wouldn’t have to hear that they were somehow asking for it.

But people will be people which means they’ll go on embracing the Muzzies, the blacks, and believing there’s this great God sitting up in the sky that loves us all. Hell, I’m waiting for the day we’re all expected to praise and protect child molesters for the sake of “political correctness.”

Really, I don’t understand how we can watch Muslims and blacks do what they do and then get all hot and bothered about it if someone dares to express their highly unpopular opinion against them. Well, folks, you can’t have it both ways. You’re either for or against these violent groups!

Did I ever tell you how much I hate politics?

I experienced some anxiety after Tom left yesterday and had to take a Lorazepam. The rest of the day I was depressed and drowsy. I now realize that for whatever reason, I’m never going to get better and so I just have to accept that this is who I am now. I’ll have some good days mixed in, but the old Jodi is gone forever.

A follower/friend suggested it could be the disease itself and not my medication. Well, I know that this is one of the diseases listed that can trigger our fight-or-flight hormones, but why now? Why now that I’m on a medication that’s supposed to mask the damn symptoms? And why didn’t I experience this before I was diagnosed? I doubt it’s all the medication, though. I mean what happened when we tried to get me to tolerate the 88s clearly was, but now it could be a mix of things, including menopause, so she’s got a point. My body has proven for 5-6 months it can handle 75s and that’s where my body’s at right now.

sighs If it wasn’t this it’d just be something else. I’m destined to be going through something or another be it legal battles, poverty, or what I’m going through now. When things are at their worst I almost miss being stuck in that dumpy old trailer with no money. Really, if someone could have told me on July 10th, 2013, “Walk out of here now and this is what will happen,” I’d still be there. We just wouldn’t be poor anymore. That all ended in 2012. Hmm… maybe if we end up in the poorhouse again my health will improve? Or better yet my sanity?

All I know is that this is the new me, it’s not going away, and I have to figure out what to do about it to make it more livable. Have some wine when I start feeling anxious? Its effects would at least not be as long-lasting as the lorazepam which would be helpful when I’m busy or trying to stay up longer to push my schedule around.

Should I ask the shrink for the strongest trank she’s got?

Should I end it all after our vacation?

Or should I just let myself suffer and accept that for reasons I’ll probably never understand, it was simply meant to be this way?

I think I’ll start with getting something like a 4-pack of wine coolers. Don’t worry. I won’t abuse it and become an alkie. It’s just for when the anxiety really bites and I’m all alone. I’ll probably feel fine over the weekend… until he returns to work Monday.

THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 12, 2015
I don’t fucking believe it. My bike was stolen. A gated retirement community is the last place I would’ve ever thought anyone would steal a bike from, but sometime during the day, my bike was stolen. His wasn’t because it was chained to the carport post. We left mine unchained, but its wheel was always wedged into the chain so that they both appeared to be locked up. What did the thief do, walk into the carport, and actually inspect the place?

I see people leave shit around here all the time. Bob never locks his bike, but my bike really did stand out. His is just a dull gray bike, but mine was bright and colorful.

As always, God made sure I didn’t see them in action for I’d have beaten the living shit out of them in a heartbeat, even over a $99 bike that can be replaced easily enough with something better. The bike wouldn’t have been the main point of the beatdown. Sending a message for what may happen if they tried again with our shit or something else’s would have been the point. But no, God must always protect Jodi’s perps, and let me guess… instead of karma biting them on the ass for it, they’ll win the lottery or something. Maybe a trip to Maui, right? Something good will happen to them, I’m sure.

I highly doubt it was anyone who lives here. It was probably one of the landscapers, a caretaker, or someone visiting who thought their daughter would just love it.

Wonder if they might try breaking into the house next, thinking no one’s here during the daytime when I’m asleep and unable to do something about it. With our one car gone every day, you’d never know I was home unless you saw me sitting outside, and God would make sure I was in the shower or asleep and caught off guard. Really, I’m just as pissed at Him as I am the thief. But someday someone’s gonna screw me over that not even He can protect, though I’d rather not get screwed in the first place. I always knew it was a matter of time, though, before some perp slipped through the so-called protection crack.

Well, when I’m on days I’ll make sure I’m fully dressed right down to my sneakers, blinds wide open, etc. Do come back tomorrow Mr. Bike Thief. :) I’m ready for you this time, though I don’t know what else you might want to try to get your paws on. Damn, I wish I’d caught you in action! But since I didn’t, I hope whomever you stole that bike for gets in a bad accident, I really do. Then after you’ve had a little time to grieve and wonder if the “new” bike was really worth it after all, I hope you get hit by a car. :)

Meanwhile, we’re now locking the storeroom, and I think we should start locking the car doors, too. Luxury cars are kind of common in this park, but it’s a Cadillac for God’s sake. It should be locked.

On the bright side, I do prefer handle breaks instead of pedal breaks, and this bike was still a bit high for me. I’d prefer a 20” wheel instead of a 24”. Cruisers just aren’t good for such hilly terrains either.

No problem with my meds yesterday, but I worry about today because the torture from that has been an on-and-off thing. Besides, leave it to God to torture a person who tries to be a good person and do the right thing, while my bike thief is probably in great health. Probably doesn’t even need medication.

Then again, God is just a theory and not a proven fact. There’s just as much chance one doesn’t exist, as there is that one does exist.

Been skipping the caffeine for now, since it helps keep me calmer. I felt fine till I had a cup late in my day yesterday, and then I felt slightly wound up for a while. So no more caffeine. Now it’s decaf or tea.

Old Navy keeps calling. Obviously, someone who owes money to them gave a fake number and it just had to be mine, of course. Really, really hope whoever gave out my number doesn’t also happen to know my name. If that were true then it has to be someone I’ve known recently. I never shop at Old Navy, so if someone’s been trying to get credit in my name, I have no idea who it could be, but more than likely my name isn’t involved. Just my number.

Had a hilariously interesting dream last night where we went to a pet store. Only the pet store had a few 15” humans for sale, too. There were two young males and a young female, all in their early 20s or so. As small as they were, they could live as long as your average full-sized human. They all had a full wardrobe, mini furniture, hygienic items, gadgets, and even a “toilet.”

I loved the idea of a “human doll” as a pet that I could chat with any time I wanted to chat when Tom wasn’t home, assuming they weren’t asleep or busy reading a miniature book or something. I wondered if we should take them all or just the girl or just a guy. I hated to take just one and have them lonely for another miniature being, but didn’t want them breeding either if I took one of each sex. Feeling like it’d be mean of me to take the guys and abandon the girl, I asked the girl, who could sit on her hair, if she’d be willing to cut it to her upper back to make it easier for me to wash, dry and comb it for her, and she agreed. I assured her she didn’t have to cut it if she really didn’t want to, though, since it was her hair after all.

I told her we had a huge living room and could make her her own private room in a corner of it, but was she sure she wanted to come with us since all she’d do is just hang around, never to have a career or seeing anyone her “size” ever again?

She said it was fine with her because it was either sitting around there or in someone’s home. So I chose the girl and wondered how she handled periods. I guessed she had mini-female supplies.

“What do we do if you’re in pain?” I asked, knowing I couldn’t give her ibuprofen that’d be like a golf ball to regular people, and well, it was just an overall funny dream.

WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 11, 2015
Yesterday I was mostly anxiety-free, and I hope that now that I have taken my medication I will continue to be anxiety-free. I skipped yesterday to take the edge off and hopefully, I will stop the up-and-down roller coaster I have been on, go back to my old self, and stay that way. Still skipping the caffeine, though. I don’t want to do too much too soon.

It’s gotten rather wintry out. We almost froze last night.

Started taking pictures of my colorings and creating boards of them on Pinterest.

I dreamed I moved back to MA and Kim C was in town visiting after moving to Nevada. We had such a good time and I asked, “Any chance of you moving back here?”

She said no and that she loved living in Nevada. Truth is that she’d never leave MA and I’d never return to it.

MONDAY, NOVEMBER 9, 2015
We went out for a bite to eat last night as well as to Walgreens. I got some really nice nail polish. It’s a bold, shimmering shade of violet.

I also dreamed that I won $350 worth of flooring, only I was living with my dead parents.

Speaking of my parents, the answer to something I’ve always wondered hit me the other day, and I can’t believe it took decades to do it. Really, the answer was so damn obvious all along.

For years I wondered if I was taken away from my parents in my teens or if they gave me up on their own. Of course they gave me up on their own. I’m not surprised, though it was more likely her idea and he went along with it… as always. She hated kids and with me being so much younger than Larry and Tammy, she just couldn’t wait for me to hurry up and get old enough to get out of the house. In those days you were pressured to have kids, unlike today where you’re often pressured to skip kids and work, work, work.

I’m also not surprised because hey, this was the ’80s. Even if I’d shown up to school plastered with bruises, the odds of me being taken away were slim. It was (and still kind of is) very hard to get a kid removed from their parents.

It was what she did that final morning at home that answered my question. Again, I just don’t know why it took me so long to put two and two together. Perhaps it’s cuz no one wants to believe their own mother gave up on them. Oh, but mine sure did, and if there’s an afterlife in which she could possibly look down on me, I wonder how she feels about it being published online for all the world to see. looks upwards Yeah, you didn’t think of that, bitch, did you?

It was spring of ’82, just a few months after my 5-month “sentence” in the Brattleboro Retreat up in Vermont. It wasn’t really a “retreat,” of course. They just called it that. But what it really was was a psych hospital run like a prison.

During the months between December and April, I never returned to public schools. I attended an alternative high school in Springfield. It was a small building and there weren’t many of us. Maybe about 15-20 students. A guy that most of us got high with every morning, picked us Longmeadow kids up in a van and drove us to the school. I liked this little school. We had tons of freedom there. Not many kids, then or now, could get high with their drivers, take breaks at the school whenever they felt like it, and openly smoke cigarettes as well.

I overslept one April morning and my mother woke me up in a panic, saying my ride was waiting. She rushed me into the bathroom, into my clothes, and out the door. I don’t think I even ate that morning. I was utterly exhausted, too.

Looking back on it now… why was it so important she make the driver wait like that so I could go to school that day? Normally, wouldn’t one’s mother tell the driver, “Hey, she’s still asleep. I won’t make you and the other students rudely wait for her. I’ll get her up and bring her in myself later, or we’ll skip today altogether.”

But she knew I wasn’t coming back. She’d had her fill with being my mother on a full-time basis and she knew that was my last day living there as a minor. That contact she said we weren’t “allowed” in the beginning; that was her idea, no doubt.

Knowing the answer can’t change history, of course, but it’s answered my question and settled my curiosity… as well as reinforced my hatred for the bitch, for some of the places I ended up were far worse than living with the tyrant from hell. Far worse.

As I said before, I don’t know if there’s a God or an afterlife, but if there is, Mommy Dearest, I hope you’re rotting in hell, you bitch, and that the God who protected you when you were alive is making you pay tenfold!

Later…

I thought I was getting better but instead, I got worse. Over the weekend I was borderline anxious, but as soon as he left to go to work yesterday morning I was in for 4 hours of hell. My heart raced up a storm and I was terrified that I was going to have the kind of attack I had on the 29th, even though that attack was clearly due to the dosage increase. I thought I would get better since it’s been decreased, but I am still having anxious moments where I feel like I will never be the person I was before these days began. I miss the days of having absolutely no clue of just what the true meaning of the word “anxiety” meant. It’s like she “broke” something within me when she tried to get me to tolerate 88s, even though I know she didn’t. Still… I’m wondering if I can ever be put back to the way I was for the most part from May to October. Why am I just so destined to suffer so much of the time lately? Again I ask myself, what the fuck did I do to deserve it? I feel like I have suffered more in the last year and a half than I have in the last decade. Maybe more.

It got to where Skype wasn’t enough and I had to actually call Tom. Hearing his voice helped calm me down. Had someone told me a couple of years ago that I would be afraid to be alone as an adult I would have laughed my ass off. I just never would have believed it in a million years unless I was alone in the flimsy trailer with a million grizzlies trying to break in or something. What will I be terrified of next? Will I become afraid of the dark?

I skipped my pills today hoping it would take some of the edge off the anxiety since there’s a chance I could still be having lingering effects of the increase. I still worry about how I’m going to feel when he leaves the house in a few hours. I try to remind myself it’s not life-threatening and that nothing is going to kill me, but it’s still terrifying. Like smoking a joint and trying to tell yourself not to feel high, or burning yourself with a cigarette lighter and telling yourself not to feel pain. There’s nothing to be afraid of, BUT I AM. I am still honestly terrified nonetheless, and I don’t understand how Tom can believe I’m getting better little by little. Yesterday sure felt like a setback to me, though he said it was just because it was too soon for me to be left alone after what happened on the 29th, and he also believes I’m worried about my adrenal gland test.

We all have our fears, be it heights, spiders, flying, or driving, and some of these fears we can conquer while some of them we just can’t. But I once lived without this kind of terrifying anxiety and I would like to think that I can live that way again, even though things do change with time. Our appetites go up and so does our weight with age. Our hair turns gray and our vision gets worse. Well, I guess I have just become a very anxious person and if none of that is connected to my medication at this point, then there’s either something else going on or I truly have developed a horrible anxiety disorder that I’m going to have to struggle with for the rest of my life. I read that while most anxiety disorders develop young, medical conditions can cause them to develop later on in life, hypothyroidism being one of them. As I told a friend recently, I really hope there is no God, for it is sitting back and allowing me to continue to suffer without doing a damn thing to intervene.

I did have a dream that someone told me there was something wrong with my bladder. I needed a blood test done for something, and in the dream, they could produce instant results. I don’t know exactly what was wrong with it, and while death didn’t seem imminent, it seemed that whatever was wrong was serious enough. In reality, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with my bladder, although I do pee more than I’d like. But could there be anything wrong with any other organ? I don’t think so and I sure hope not! Something’s going to kill me someday, and I don’t see it in the near future. Not unless the anxiety becomes too much for me to live with and I just can’t get it to back off. I still see my PCP and the shrink in about a month, so maybe it’s time to ask for something a little stronger and a little more permanent instead of something I take on an as-needed basis. It’s just that I’m afraid of a bad reaction given my shit luck with medication. Tom doesn’t think I’ll need it by then, so we’ll see who’s right.

I worry about our vacation too, though I am less likely to feel anxious when I’m around others and I know they’re not going to be taking off for work in a few hours.

Bailing out of NaNoWriMo with 15,282 words. I just can’t get into story writing/reading these days. My interests fluctuate at times. These days it’s coloring, TV shows and Pinterest. But I did write two stories, one about 8K words and the other 7K.

I also had a dream that my mother brought me to a shrink, only the one doing the psych eval was Jenny Seagrove, LOL. I realized I’d forgotten my glasses and thought it a shame that Jenny had to be all blurry.

In another dream, Tammy was telling me it was 37° at her place yet it felt like 15°. We’re going to drop into the upper 30s tonight. Really wish I could be in Maui!

Then I had some dream where I realized that in less than a year we would be getting a new washer and dryer, and also that we would only live in this house for another 7-8 years instead of 12.

SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 8, 2015
It must’ve rained while I slept because the roads are wet. Anyway, I’m still sleeping better, but I had a disappointing 3 hours late last night. My heart was a bit racy and that depressed me, as I once again feared that having a good day yesterday could’ve just been a fluke. My anxiety began on the 13th of last month, and after scanning my journal I found I had 3 or 4 anxiety-free days in between. I went “what-iffing” again. What if I’m forever bad most days of the week? But Tom assured me I was just having residual effects from the extra medication, and my PMS was compounding my emotions. It’s true that something that bums us out does so even more when we’re PMSing, and something that pisses us off REALLY pisses us off when we’re PMSing as well.

It did take time to fully recover after the first showdown with the 75s, so hopefully – hopefully – I’ll be back to my old self 24/7 every day (unless something bad happens in my life or someone I’m close to to give me a reason not to be) soon enough.

Not convinced anymore the lung tightness I had was something in the air. At first I thought maybe it was because others, including Tom, were complaining about that, but I think it was connected to the meds. That degree of tightness just hasn’t been normal for me since leaving Arizona in 2004. Also, I had the same thing right before the first T4 storm.

Tom read an interesting sleep article that he told me about. For years they believed light and dark were what set sleep/wake patterns. When it turned out a blind person had my type of sleep disorder they soon diagnosed the non-24 sleep/wake cycle thing and all that, plus they wondered about those up in parts of Alaska where it stays dark half the year. Recently they’ve established it’s all about temperatures rising and falling by day/night until technology came and messed all that up. Millions of years ago people just didn’t have climate-controlled dwellings.

Last night I dreamed I realized I’d eaten too soon after taking my meds while at a semi-crowded pool. Tom walked up to the pool, took his clothes off, and jumped in with the bathing suit he wore underneath. Then I too, pulled my clothes off and jumped in the pool, only I realized I’d forgotten to put my suit on underneath and was totally naked. I wondered how I would get out of the pool unseen, assuming no one around me had noticed yet.

Next, I dreamed of being stranded in these super dark woods. Actually, the others in the car I was riding in dumped me there as some kind of sick joke. It was so dark and no moon or stars were visible. I tried my best to walk down the road they drove away on, but the darkness made it hard to see where I was going.

Then I smelled cigarette smoke and thought someone was close by until I glanced to the side and saw houses dotting a steep hillside and realized it was probably coming from there.

SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 7, 2015
And my period is late again. Gee, what a surprise. I am retaining a little water, though.

The best news is that the T4 storm is over! I had a great day and night yesterday. I even stopped going from warm to cold so much. When you’re in some kind of crisis again there’s always that slight fear that this time around you won’t quite make it back to where you should be, but I did. Last night I was thinking how that basket case from barely 24 hours ago seemed like a whole different person. It’s amazing how the same drug that can make you better can turn you into a basket case as well, at the wrong doses. The anxiety, depression, and racing heart were horrible. Just horrible.

But how long will it be before I have to suffer AGAIN in some way or another?

I’m going to end up doing a total of 7 stories for this year’s NaNoWriMo. Each story will be about 8K words. I’m calling it the Gemstone Series. One lead character in each of the series will have a gemstone name… Diamond, Pearl, Jade, Sapphire, Ruby, Emerald and Mica.

Last night I dreamed we’d been in Jesse’s trailer for 5 years like we had in real life, but then we just moved into a bigger house of his that was a little newer. I’m glad we did a lot better than that by getting our own place that’s a lot newer, even if the daytime noise gets to me at times. Tom said someone was working with some kind of chemicals today and could smell it when he was out earlier.

FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 6, 2015
I was finally able to sleep without my heart racing me awake. I still went from warm to cold and I still woke up a million times, but my heart didn’t take off on a mad dash. I even dreamed in German again too, though I don’t remember what I said. The only dream I vaguely remember was rocking a little boy in a rocking chair that I was babysitting for.

The last half of my day yesterday, however, was a whole different story. My emotions were all over the place. First I was wound up, and then I was depressed as I worried about possibly never getting better and all that and what the future may hold. This was very discouraging. I don’t know how much of it could be the lingering effects of the dosage increase, PMS, menopause setting in, Etc. I just know I don’t usually go feeling like a knock-up like I did last night.

I was a little concerned when I woke up to find a voice message from the park, but it was only to let me know that they screwed up the calendar. This wasn’t recycle week, it was green waste week.

Still not sure if I’m going to continue on with NaNoWriMo because I have a lot of other stuff going on and I’m not able to focus well until my health gets better. Sleeping better is a good sign, but what shit may I be in for as the day progresses and then eventually becomes the evening?

Later…

Just thought I’d do a private entry to bitch about Aly. She’s still a fantastic friend and probably one of my best friends at the moment, even though we never met. But her clinginess still gets to me at times. I understand that having clinical depression is a horrible thing and that she’s bummed out that Leon went silent on her, but she seems to think I’m brushing her off when I really have other things to do at times. I’m there for her as much as I can be, but like I explained to her, I can’t be there for her 24/7 just like I can’t expect anybody to be there for me 24/7.

As I told her, I can tell her the facts (that I really do care and support her), but I can’t make her believe me. I just hate the way she makes me feel guilty, even though I know she’s not intentionally trying to make me feel that way, and I hate that I let her make me feel that way at times.

I just wish she wouldn’t go Molly on me, and reminded her how much she used to drive her crazy by expecting her to drop everything and be available for her every second she wanted her to be. I have a husband I love to spend time with, I have pets to feed, I have a book to write, I have a house to clean, I have laundry to wash, and I could go on and on and on. Just because I don’t have a 9 to 5 outside of the house doesn’t mean I sit on my ass staring up at the cathedral ceiling. She needs to understand that it isn’t that I don’t care. I just can’t spend each and every day texting back and forth with her nearly every single minute of the day, just like my sister can’t reply to every single message I send her. She’s in poor health, she’s not a fan of writing like I am, and so she doesn’t usually send messages. But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t read mine and it doesn’t mean she doesn’t care. She reads what I have to say, she cares, and she’s there for me in any way she can be. Why can’t Aly get the same thing? This is a highly intelligent person. Like smarter than most of the population will ever be.

THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 5, 2015
I slept terribly last night. I woke up a million times, 3 in which my heart raced me awake, and I’m trying not to think along the lines of “what if.” What if I never get better? What if the month I spent on 88s has permanently screwed me up? Is that even possible? I have suffered more during the last year and a half than probably all of my life combined. How and why has my health taken such an incredible hit? When will I ever get back to myself for good? Will this ever even happen? I never would have guessed in my wildest dreams that I would go from poverty to unhealthy, but if I can just get my medication regulated again, then I shouldn’t be unhealthy. I guess I am just recovering from the effects of the 88s. I sure hope that’s all it is, but as Tom reminded me, menopause and me just worrying about it could also be factors.

The only thing that was different with this morning was that my heart didn’t beat as fast and hard or for as long. I didn’t have to get up and take anything for it. Right before one of the times it raced, I felt this weird feeling in my head. I just worry I’m never going to be normal again, and that if I am, it won’t last long. I have, however, felt fine since I’ve been up and I did well last night, too.

I don’t remember her name but in a makeup article I stumbled across written by a model in her 60s, she not only provided some very helpful sensible tips, but she’s a reminder that not every older woman with gray hair looks like shit. I agree that less is more when we get older. If I were to wear my make-up like I did in my 20s I would look like a total clown. She said that lipstick should match the inner lip or the gum, a little mascara is okay, don’t try to get your eyebrows to look like they did in their 20s, and use liquid foundation instead of powder because powder adds texture where texture has already built up. She also said that this might be hard, but skip the eyeshadow. That one’s definitely hard. I can do everything else, but I love my sparkly eyeshadow.

I had a dream I was walking through a very big apartment building that seemed more like a hotel. Christmas music was playing from speakers in the hallway ceiling. I approached someone’s door with two other people, and then a split second later I was outdoors talking to a very attractive Austrian woman. I pointed to some other woman and said, “That woman is a real Verrukte.” That means crazy woman. Then the woman from Austria puked.

WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 4, 2015
My day was off to a heart-pounding start when my heart raced me awake an hour or two earlier than I wanted to get up. Had a little congestion too, but that’s cleared up, though Tom advised me to stay inside today, saying there’s something in the air making it hard for him to breathe.

I took a lorazepam as soon as I got up but I’m afraid to take my meds. I want to fast anyway so maybe I will take it later on closer to when Tom will be home in case anything bad happens. My T4 isn’t there yet. It’s not going to get back to where it should be for another 5 days or so. So that time I thought I slipped from hypo too hyper was really my T4 being the problem. That was the culprit all along and it seems it doesn’t take much change for it to really turn us inside out and upside down emotionally and physically. As my doctor said when we first met, she needed to find the exact range that was correct for my body, as everyone is different. 1.1 is about right for me and still in the normal range.

We canceled December’s appointment since I just saw her yesterday and if all goes well I will not be seeing her until May. After we left her office we went to the Round Table for pizza where none of the tables were round but the pizza was good. The service was a little shaky but otherwise good.

Tom glued knobs on the top of our Roomba to keep it from getting stuck under the couch and the bedroom dresser, but they got knocked off, so we will go with maybe screws or something like that.

On our way home, we noticed a lot of water in the street, and sure enough, they turned the water off because there was yet another leak to have to fix. We had to play water games just last week too.

Later…

Went down for a 2.5-hour nap and that helps a little, though I am still tired. I still managed to take my meds without incident and get the cleaning done that I wanted to do today. I might bail out of NaNoWriMo, though. I’m not sure yet.

The other day I had a friend request on Facebook that seemed suspicious because the account appeared to be newly created. I ran the name and found somebody with that name in Utah and also in Arizona, but the profile picture was definitely fake. Sure enough, it was a sex account so it’s a good thing I didn’t accept. They probably would have plastered porn all over my wall and any of my friends that they possibly could have as well.

This is why I have made pictures of myself a little harder to get a hold of. People use random strangers’ pictures figuring that they won’t know, and while they probably won’t, THEY know. The people who are using them, I mean. I could share some pictures and some secrets that I have been asked not to share with anybody and those that asked me this would never know. But I would know and I would feel guilty. That’s not the main point. The main point is that I want to make my pictures a little less accessible because I don’t want people going around using them in the wrong kind of way. Who needs some child molester looking for child porn, for example, using my face as their profile? If one has a public account, then their pictures should be considered free-for-all. But if your account is for friends only, then that’s where your stuff should stay unless you authorize otherwise.

I’ve been meaning to write this but I have just been so busy with so many other things and that’s that Aly really got to me a few days ago. She was clingy, demanding and making me feel guilty for not being there 24/7 because she was having a bad day. She later apologized and blamed it on PMS. As I told her yet again, I do try my best to be there for people. It isn’t that I don’t care. It’s just that I do have a life outside of the Internet and other things to do.

Andy also annoyed me when we were installing the toilets, asking that I take a pic of myself because his mother wanted to see what I look like now. Again with the selfishness after I told him I was very busy. Why is it that the busier I am, the more people make demands of me? Nonetheless, regardless, why does Judy even care? It’s funny though because right before he asked this I made my pictures unavailable to him on Facebook and he was asking how to find them. Well, the reason I did that is that I don’t like how he goes and shares people’s pictures without their permission. His defense is that no one will know. Probably not, but that’s not the point. He knows and that should be enough. It’s not like I’ve never shared pictures myself. I have. But he seems to get a little carried away at times.

TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 3, 2015
I take back every worst fear and false assumption I had yesterday about what my endo would tell me during today’s visit. My endo rocks! I totally had her all wrong. I thought she was going to be all or nothing and basically tell me to either stay on 88 mcg and suffer the INHUMANE side effects or get lost. Again, these side effects weren’t annoying, they were downright terrifying. I really felt like I was going to die. What is it with me misreading people anyway? First I thought Bob was mad at me and then I thought the second to last time I saw my endo that she might not like me for some reason or was upset with me. I guess they were just having a bad day that day.

Okay, to make a long story as short as I can being that it’s been a long day for me and I’m getting tired… traffic was a bitch and she was running behind as usual, but in my mind, I was thinking that was the last time I’d be there anyway. I had Tom in the exam room with me for support because I was nervous.

Then in she came, commenting on how colorful I looked as she sat down at her desk. I then told her what I’ve experienced the last few weeks or so with most of my suffering being between the 13th - 29th and she listened with concern. Instead of being told, “Look, this only happens to you. Either suffer the side effects or see someone else,” she said, “Wow. I guess 75 is it for you then.”

I was so relieved to hear this and I even told her how much she rocks, LOL. I reminded her that while I respect and understand her concern with numbers, I am still a person after all, with real feelings, and she said she wasn’t just a number person at all, so that was a huge relief. Comparing her to my old endo is like comparing night and day. When the shit hit the fan with the old one she told me to either come in that day or not for 3 months AND to keep taking my meds the same way. Now THAT was fucked up.

See, my sister (gotta love her concern when she “came down hard on me” in a VM) was worried that lowering my dose would be dangerous, but as the doctor explained, it’s not dangerous at all. I don’t think I shared my last lab results with Tammy, but apparently, my T4 had nudged itself up a bit too much “overflowing the tank,” as the doc put it. The month or so that I was on 88 took my full tank and pretty much overflowed it. The 75s just weren’t getting the tank full fast enough, but now my tank is full on 75s and this will be my forever dose. I have no obvious hypothyroidism symptoms and haven’t for many months, and am not in any danger on 75s.

The only two things we need to check next are my cholesterol, which I told her my big sister confirmed does indeed run in the family, and she’s also going to do an adrenal gland test on me. Funny too, cuz I wondered about that, even though she doubts there’s anything wrong with it. God, I hope not!

She said that the only thing that didn’t make sense was how fast I started feeling better after reverting back to 75s. Well, it hasn’t been an instantaneous thing. The side effects have been slowly tapering off and should take two weeks to dissipate completely. That’s how long a dose increase/decrease takes to change your T4. I had a little heart racing earlier, but nothing like last Thursday. By the weekend I should be fine.

I’m just glad she didn’t have an all-or-nothing attitude and get everything screwed up for me like the old doc did. I’d have hated to have to find someone new, as much as I hate her location, and I’d feel like shit AND be in danger of a stroke, heart attack, or coma if I quit my meds altogether. Not to mention gain a million pounds, carry enough water to fill a pool, and forget my own damn name half the time.

But she went over the check-list with me and I’m not suffering fatigue, hair loss, or kind of coldness and dry skin like I had before. I’m surprised my appetite’s down, though. Usually, the more you stimulate the metabolism, the more calories you burn and the hungrier you are. My weight was down, too. I think it’s the years of exercising and naturally rapid pulse that have kept me from becoming seriously obese. I do watch the calorie intake too, whether I’m eating healthy or not.

Again, she rocks and I love and appreciate my sister for her concern and reminding me how she too, has side effects from some of her many medications, but as I assured her if the side effects had been manageable, I’d have managed them. I love spending half my time alone. So when I say I’m scared to be alone, something’s wrong. But now that my T4 will be set right again, the TSH doesn’t matter as much and should remain on the high end of normal.

Today my BIL turned 65. I hope he and Tammy both enjoyed their day today.

I have more to write about, but I’m both busy and tired, so I’ll get to it some other time. I’m just glad I can rest easy now. Hopefully, there’ll be no more health issues for a very long time to come!

MONDAY, NOVEMBER 2, 2015
I am so fucking pissed off right now! And worried. Based on the message I got from my endo this morning, she’s not going to help me by lowering my dose simply because my numbers are normal. She just doesn’t get, no matter what I say, that there really is something about the dose increase that’s fueled my anxiety, an anxiety that is NOT normal for me. There’s no way I would conjure up such severe emotional and physical symptoms all because I was worried deep down in my mind or something about the medication or anything else in life. There’s just no way. I know myself. I don’t see why she won’t let me drop to 75 at least until after vacation. I don’t want to have to worry about feeling like shit on vacation. In fact, if she insists on 88s and nothing else, then I will have to postpone my vacation unless I just quit the medication altogether. This dose just isn’t manageable. I can’t take that dose at this time. She specifically said the goal was to get me as close to normal as comfortably as possible. So let’s do it! I’m not comfortable on 88s.

I would hate to invite all the hypothyroidism symptoms back in full force by stopping altogether, but they’re not nearly as terrifying as this. Other than a little scare that barely lasted 3 minutes yesterday, I have felt MUCH better since I went back to 75 the day after my last lab. Why do doctors insist I take more than I can handle?

So since tomorrow is probably going to be the last time I’ll see her, I could probably get in to see his doctor before what I have runs out if she won’t help me, though I really don’t want to be dealing with this shit right now. But what choice will I have? She’s not going to leave me with much choice if she remains so all or nothing, and I will have to find someone who will help me and who will consider how I feel and not the fucking numbers. This is making me really lose my trust and confidence in doctors after it took so long to regain it. Will EVERY doctor insist I take more than I can handle? Do I need to just stop the medication altogether and suffer the hypothyroidism symptoms in full force? Really, I’ve had it with doctor and medication issues!

Other than this frustration, it has rained two days in a row, but it hasn’t done much to keep people quiet. That fucking contractor that works out of his garage has been hammering away on and off, but Cali really needs the rain.

I’ve got over 6K words for NaNoWriMo, and that’s it for now. And no, I don’t care if there’s an off, off, off, very off-chance the doc reads this. I know tomorrow’s it. It’s just a matter of deciding what to do after that… do I get another doc and hope three’s the charm? Or do I just wash my hands clean of docs and meds altogether?

SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 1, 2015
The new toilets are functioning wonderfully. No leaks or anything like that. My only complaint is that they’re a bit tall for being a shorty, so I ordered a footrest specially for toilets. I could place the flat of my feet on the floor with the old ones, but only my toes with these. Love that they take just 2 seconds to flush and 30 to fill! They hold 1.5 gallons as opposed to the ancient 5-gallon, 32-year-old toilets that were in here.

Bob and Virginia were sitting outside when I went to get the mail while he was getting longer hoses yesterday, and I told them we were switching out the old toilets. They said they were thinking of doing that, too. I’m surprised they haven’t already with all they’ve done to their place.

As for my health… I think the bad effects of the 88s are slowly tapering off. I sure hope so anyway. My heart did take off to 117 yesterday and beat a little hard, so I took a lorazepam. Today, while he was at Raley’s, it started to race a bit, but not even for 5 minutes, thank goodness. I threw myself onto the couch and made myself take deep slow breaths and it backed off. Then I had an upset stomach, so I’m not fully recovered yet, but definitely getting there. As long as I don’t have anything as terrifying as last Thursday. That was just like OMFG. I think I accidentally said in a previous entry that it happened Friday, but it was actually Thursday.

I just dread meeting with the doctor in a couple of days. Doctors are too number-obsessed. I’m afraid she won’t want to consider how I feel and what I personally feel most comfortable doing. Remaining on 75s a while longer, however, is far from life-threatening. Hell, I could quit the meds altogether and probably live for well over a decade. I’d just feel like shit in a different way. I just hope she’ll work with me cuz I don’t want to have to get someone else. I think she will, though, cuz she has so far and is a pretty understanding and caring person. I’ll soon find out for sure!

Andy was telling me the other day that once he turned 50, he thinks of how the end is closer rather than farther and that he really does have to die someday. He worries more about how he’ll die than actually dying. Me too. Will I suffer? Will Tom suffer? I worry about these things as well, and what kind, if any, afterlife may exist.

It’s raining steadily now. Ah, we need the rain. So peaceful. No one’s going to be making a racket today, though I see that damn contractor that works out of his house moving about his garage.

I’m going to go back to using dryer bars for fabric softeners rather than sheets. The sheets are a pain in the ass cuz they often get lost. Tom said he wore one to the store the other day. He felt something in his sleeve and pulled one out, LOL.

The Megalast lipstick was a bust after all. It goes on cakey and gets stuck on your teeth. I’ll stick to Maybelline’s Whisper lipsticks. I’ve got Cherry on Top on the way to me, plus the decorative switch plate for the laundry room, and a cute little meerkat figurine to add to my animal collection. Possums and skunks are next!

I dreamed of a young bald girl who’d had chemo and was dating a black guy. Then there was a 2-acre or so parcel of land where Jesse lived, and next door to him lived my maternal grandmother. I had a bedroom in each house but didn’t really “live” in either place. I woke up early in my grandmother’s house and heard her moving around in her bathroom. I then decided to use my bedroom in Jesse’s place because I wanted to sleep longer and didn’t think he’d be home. I slipped out her back door and by a long silver tank I knew to be the propane tank. Then I walked around the side of her place, cut across the front of it and then over to Jesse’s place. The grass around the house was tall, parched and stiff and I was trying to find an easier way to cut through when I woke up.

NaNoWriMo started today, so off I go to get back to work on Bringing Brynn Back!