Dream stress pic

Just a pic of an image of a dream I had. Not a ghost but a look at a mistake maybe? Titled The Brown Veiled Wisp

 

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#HAWMC WEGO Day 6-Health Haiku plus (Tanka)

I just saw the April WEGO health writing about health all month in April, & as I'm a few days late the 5 days I have missed I'll do in May. Today's focus was a haiku, the traditional 5 syllable 7 syllable 5 syllable Japanese poems, or doing a Tanku, adding two extra lines with 7 syllables each.

 

Yesterday mom & I had back to back ENT dr appointments, as we both have terrible chronic coughs, etc. Mine is caused by allergies-when I moved down here 5+ years ago I developed horrible allergies & this deep, chronic cough. I even put Alabama on the new patient sheet under 'allergies'. I don't think the dr found it funny...but when I lived overseas, mainly the Czech Republic, I had runny nose & colds but little to no sinus or allergies. It was just fantastic-to carry pocket packs of tissues for the cold weather only!

 

The two hour round trip took a toll on me & today I'm fevered, sore, & feel like I was dragged behind the car & not just in it. Riding in cars makes my bones feel like they are breaking, but I do try & bear in mind that every little discovery is yet another piece in this disaster of a puzzle that completes me. Here is my very first haiku, or tanka, along with a pic that goes with my day.

 

 

The pokes the prods hurt

 

A necessary evil

 

Leave me aching so

 

Extra doctors add knowledge

 

To my jigsawed puzzled life

 

Submerged

For a chronically sick person, we all know that whether it's physical or emotional, etc there is the overall picture. Pretty parts, confusing parts, abstract bits, things you somewhat understand & some that are baffling, but if you look at the close up, there is so much submerged below the surface. Much darker, supportive, hidden parts. My hidden things are so humiliating. So embarrassing. They make me feel like I'm 7 yet 87 at the same time, yet I'm no Benjamin Button. As open as I am there are a few things I keep deep, deep down for fear of the reveal of some things that happen often & feel so crushing.

 

 

Prettying up the mundane

Lately a few things have happened-been said-etc in which the subject was played up or down to disguise the honest truth. Not lies, just made-up or tweaked in order to appear a bit better. If you strip down me to my absolute basics, am I too much to take on? Have the medicines that make me gain weight change minds? Do the humiliating truths of the basic life & personal care & lack of force someone's decision one way or another? Is the real me, not cropped & photoshopped so different that offers & futures come down to that? The real me? I don't know if I want to know the answer. Just like this simple picture of my AM/PM medicine strips is made to look prettier, cooler looking...not as boring & honest as the actual 'weekly filling of the pill strips' that I hate doing just too much for someone to admit into their lives? I honestly don't know.

 

Sides of sides

I just watched Bridesmaids, & had no idea it was as serious as it was funny. I often feel like the main character-left behind while everyone else is married with 7 kids & perfect jobs, etc. Of course that isn't the case-& everyone sees & takes information & life differently. We all interpret the same thing so vastly unique, & as lonely & out on a limb as I feel I know there are those who feel the same though to me they seem to have everything together. This is a painting I did, & put through different techniques just a few tweaks off you get interpretations that are miles apart. I have no answers or solutions to which one is the way my life should o, & I'm not going to pretend that it is easy in any way, shape, or form. I do know that I like each picture for their own merits, pros & cons.

 

 

 

Finished reading my 2nd book!

Thanks to my kindle & the ability to read again because of ridiculous 'handicaps' I've finished my 2nd book in many years. It was a far cry from my 1st, Agatha Christie, but every bit as wonderful. Being able to get lost in books again has been so fun. People lose & gain all sorts of things with any longterm illness, & among things like living with my parents, not being allowed to drive, not able to cook much, buy my own groceries, get a normal haircut, wear makeup, & a million other things-small & huge-they add up to a level of grief that's humbling & humiliating.

I finished the first book of The Hunger Games & loved it-yes I'm 41 but her struggles to survive resonated with me in a way that's hard to explain. I watch & now read a lot of gritty things, & a lot of that is because I try & take mental lessons on survival from each story. For some it might be depressing-for me it's training. This pic is a photograph put through 2 apps & I call it the Teardrop Nebula. I think Katniss from the Hunger Games would love it & hate it-hating the emotion of tears & being weak, loving the clouds & stars out hunting in District 12.

 

I'm now reading (& halfway through) The Snowman & a tiny bit through book one of Game of Thrones. One a cracked detective in Norway, & the other a magical mystical world of epic fantasy. They too will be on my survival training guides ;)

 

The disguise

I painted a picture recently that turned out horribly. Really just awful...it was a flower, possibly a Poppy that grew outside an apartment I lived in during my time in the Czech Republic. This morning I put the painting through the fantastic Percolator photo app, & it turned out really cool. It so reminded me of a chronic illness-fibromyalgia, interstitial cystitis, rheumatoid arthritis, chronic fatigue syndrome, etc. It is such an ugly disease, but when mixed with a person it looks normal. They don't look sick. Anyone with an illness like this-even emotional illnesses as well know this too well-the 'you don't look sick' thing. Anyway, this painting just brought that disguised normality home today.

 

Soul's DNA

This pic is of a bruise, underneath my arm & on my breast. Like my soul it's bruised, bloody, scarred, misshapen, old, & not as innocently naive as it once was. But it's real, it's honest. As Louis C.K. says, it's 'chewed up'...which is a good thing. It still has childlike innocence deep down, a realistic hopefulness, & stronger than I give it credit for.

 

Ying & birthday yang

Birthday candles through the Percolator App

Birthday self portrait 9:45 PM, upstairs, alone.

 

Chai bunny, false mommy to be

Female rabbits can fairly often think that they are pregnant...& Chai bunny is no different. She has a nest built up in the closet-& when I say built up I mean it's a foot high, & she goes in the neck of a sweatshirt & the inside body is full of her own pulled out fur, newspapers, bags, phone book pages, hay, etc. She currently has Sugar, the left foot of my old bunny slippers, guarding the nest-face down in the fur lining of the entrance to said hutch. While Sloan & family were here Chai took Sugar & Spice (the right slipper) into the closet on guard duty. Spice is currently sitting with his face touching, not just under, Chai's water bottle tube. She managed to sneak an old washcloth halfway across the room on its way to the nest before I got it...she keeps my life interesting in more ways than I can begin to explain. Here are a few photo-manipulated shots of her begging for treats beside my bed & enjoying them like the little whiny grunty pig dog she is ;)

 

 

 

The red dots of rage

After being an on again, off again haver of shingles, tonight I found them on my ass. Lovely. I have my 6 month primary doctor appointment tomorrow, so at least I'll get meds, & I can make the red dots of pain pretty. ;)

 

Prettying up the pills

 I get so sick of taking medicine, so I did a photo series making the ugly in my world...though I depend upon them for pain, sanity, etc...a bit prettier. 

 

 

 

 

 

Present skin

 I have a pinched nerve in my back, which after the fall a few weeks ago has been truly unbearable. Like I want to blow my head off or be put in a coma just so I won't be aware of the pain. A few minutes ago, I reached back to adjust the always present ice pack for inflammation that has filled my body like I'm a pod person, & when I did I barely grazed my skin. Not with a fingernail, not with anything sharp-just my finger barely touching my skin...& it felt like I had taken a lit match & held it there to burn & fester. I try & see my life like this pic-the left exciting, with beautiful colors & tons of pebbles representing events, Super Bowl parties, travel, drinks with friends. The right side is my now life-giant circles of bland colorless life.

 

A poem a day keeps the therapist away

 Not that I have anything against therapists, I just don't (but I'm sure I need) have one

 

 

Fading & dividing

 I got this new app called Percolator, & it's awesome. It gives new movement & design to all my normally raw pics. Experimenting with it is so fun, & also telling. It fractions & divides & fades my pics just like my illnesses are doing. It shows how I am breaking apart into wee little pieces, as the old me slowly fades away...but it's a great app!