Unknown and change

Most change has aspects of the unknown, some change has more.

I am in an uncertain moment of transition where I don’t know where I will land and that seems to be ok. how strange

How strange to feel ok, slightly concerned but more open to change, open to the unknown.

I do not know where I will be working in 30 days, or if I will have a job in 30 days. I do not have the control over the final landing, but i do have options in where i apply.

onward to new opportunties, new engagement, and new growth of unknown change.

here I go again

Happy Mothers Day and Fuck off

Here I go again, on the day where Facebook posts bring me to tears

Where the love and sacred relationship of Mother and Child is the supreme ideal

Where the highlights of amazing acts and sacrifice are shared

Where the commercialized machine takes advantage to super charge the relationship and profit

Where, especially on today, I am reminded of the barren uterus that lies in my belly

Where I am reminded to rekindle with the private loss of two, unknown globs of mitosis performing, never to grow to become beings

Where I remind myself of the weakness and errors of my youth and admonish myself for never being fertile ground, even if I didn’t realize the planted seed growing

Today is the day I honour those that have the relationship, have created life, have supported life

Today is the day I say thanks for the life I have, the support and the twisted circumstances of my youth that helped to forge the weird and wonderful being I am

Today is the day I say Fuck Off to any sanctimonious comments or actions to me for not having a child. It’s hard enough with the darkness inside that reminds me regularly of the lost links. Thank you for not contributing to the abuse and focus on your loved ones.

pieces of me

This is the space in the vast void

This is the dark space that awakens to the beast within

This is the darkness that shimmers and sends shivers down my spine

This is the darkness that reminisces with me from the shadows

The reminder that all jagged edges of my existence are still raw

The razor edges that still cut when pushed or stroked

The cuts still fresh though they formed decades ago

The memory in my flesh still engages the entire whole of my existence

The whole of me wrapped in this familiar darkness that loves me by smothering me

The pieces of me bound tighter by the darkness, cutting open the old wounds, forcing me to remember over and over again.

The pieces of me

saying goodbye

This is the space that I quietly tuck away moments that are hard to breath in, there is so much emotional pressure that I need to share in a quiet place. Today we will be taking our 16yr old boy, of the canine species, to the vet for his walk over the rainbow bridge. Fuck.

Haven’t ever been in this situation before. There were dogs on the farm, but they all died from natural causes or machines. Our boy has been a part of our lives, an intrinsic part of our family fabric. Not having children places him as a fur baby.

The boy is a small, thin framed lhasa apso mix. He has always been a unique character, independent and stubborn little shit at times, but a loving boy. He gives love but isn’t a cuddle bug unless he snuck onto a lap without getting any pets. as soon as he is pet, it needs to continue, unabated or he leaves. He is the boy that would follow me when I got up at night, only to be in the same room. He has a bounce in his step that looks like he should be on springs as his ears flap. His underbite is expansive, but it makes him look like he is smiling. He hates being cold and has a small wardrobe to assist him. Playing ball is more of a game of tag, happy to get the ball but you’ll have to run him down to get it back. He has dragon blood as he collects treasures and toys on his bed and protects them ferociously. Overall he is a happy boy looking forward to being with his people on the next adventure, but happy to stay in his heated bed.

So why now, why get to this person centric decision. The boy has always has some issue with his belly. Some of it comes from being a puppy and sucking or chewing off buttons on clothes that were graciously left for him. He would then pass them, all the way through that little body. The final button was around an inch diameter, and he painfully passed it. Regardless, the boy has had and continues to have belly issues. So why now? Why is this the last day. Over the last few months we have been cleaning up more and more poo in the house. He is getting more and more incontinent. He was licking ferociously his belly at night or after eating. That has minimized with antacids. He has been pacing at night and needing to go out. The pacing has become a nightly event, even after going out. His belly is causing him pain. He is constantly hungry, and not just begging for food scraps, he is crying for food when he sees it. This is ontop of being fed 3 to 4 times a day. The food is also now half home made and half soaked kibble. Even with that he is still loosing weight and hungry. So why today? Yesterday I came home to 4 piles of poo that all had blood in them. He has been having at least one episode of diarrhea a day for months. Yesterday there were bloody skids from his bottom in a couple of places also. He has had episodes of blood in his stool previously, and recovered. The problem is that most often now his poo is dark, half loose to loose and now this.

Tired of him suffering and selfish that we can’t cope with the increasing needs of this little guy that has been a huge part of our life. He doesn’t deserve to suffer and we also have to be able to cope. This has crossed the invisible line. We also made the decision that with his age we don’t want to go above mild interventions. Again a selfish decision, but we don’t want to see a deteriorating dog with a lesser quality of life. Because he can’t talk, we have to make that decision and it has to fit with our family also. Fuck.

Started to think about how a person gets to the point of making this decision about 6 months ago. Trying to figure out what needs to in place, how do we make such a horrific decision and then how will we live with ourselves after. How will I live with myself because I am the driving force, the maker of the appointment, and will carry the burden of this. Fuck, so what if he could of lived longer? What if this is a small blip? At this point in time, the changes are chronic and pervasive throughout more days than not in his life. Out of respect and love for this little being, we are taking him to the vet so he will not suffer any longer. He is and always will be loved.

So here the tears begin to flow once again. It is not easy, it is horrible to be in this moment. Why the hell can’t he just pass away peacefully at home…. I guess we invited him into our lives and we are now responsible for everything, including the end. Fuck

weight, wait, why

At 47, I still struggle with accepting myself as I am in this moment. According to the BMI I am obese. Fuck. I am 5’11’ with some nice curves. Somehow I still see the rockin 20 yr old, knowing the muscle is deep below the adipose tissue. When ever I start to look at loosing weight I end up eating more. I know that eating gives me a sense of being, helps to break the boredom and loneliness. The connections with food and being special in a special moment are still strong. Plus, I still struggle with image acceptance and my role with my mother. I am the odd one out in our family. The daughter with no children and not really part of the line of ….

So I seek to find a place of stronger belonging, yet constantly go back because I am connected. Yes, I recognize that I need to define what the relationship is. Maybe I have been waiting for death to change the relationship too. It is all so strange that this part of me continues to abuse myself while attempting to fulfill the need for acceptance and connection.

I love food, real food. Its the love, hate, moderate that seems to be the challenge.

update on annual- the unknown

Had the Papp test, it was the only test I had in the Dr.’s office. Now had a phone message to call the office. Kinda scares me to call back. Won’t know what it means until I call back once the office is open. If it is the c word, they can take out the uterus and ovaries. Not using them for baby making. Having medical knowledge skews my paranoid pondering. trying hard not to do the what if, can’t live in that frozen space. Life is still here, right now, plus I just beat the big boss in Splatoon!!!

latest: No Papp results, just ecoli.

The annual

So today is the day of the annual physical. I really detest this ritual on a few levels. First, I am not so comfortable opening my legs to the world. Yes, it isn’t the world but still to someone that knows of me intimately but not as a friend. This professional position i do respect, but it doesn’t make it any less uncomfortable. It also doesn’t help that a few years back one of the assistants stood at the back of the table and made faces of revolt as she stared at my sacred bits. Fucking little young thing set in place a judgement on a space that she wasn’t invited to. It has stayed with me because professional spaces should be safe places. I didn’t say anything but my body responded with shooting out the speculum. Crazy, maybe. I feel very vulnerable during the time of having a physical. Then add on the aging part where I still haven’t caught up to fully accepting me as I am right now. 

Certainly parts of self judgement cloud my interactions and perception. It also doesn’t help that I have a thing against the office assistants as I heard one call herself a nurse. As a RN, the fraudulent identification is offensive. 

Angst, anger, and vulnerability. Damn, at least it’s only a small part of the morning.