The next 50 years

It's not quite new year's.  Tomorrow I plan to visit a new friend while she recovers in hospital.  Unless she's swamped with visitors I'll try and be there daily.  Even if I just sit and spin yarn, or arrive and leave soon after, just providing the stability of someone who has the time and will to come round is valuable when you're in there.  Most folks really do have lives to get to.  So I don't know if I can get the room number at front office but it used to always be that way and I'll try it. I know her name amd what's been done, they can send me round to the right nursing station. I've been eating more than I should but less than I would.  Christmas Eve I broke down and bought more chocolate, having been very sparingly doling out the bits of some small bars from the mall.  See, the cocoa has iimportant fats in it, but the sugar in the chocolate undermines the fasting.  Then I went out on the 24th to a snack shop with a small variety of odd...

It's late, just after midnight of DE25/26 and I haven't had a meal since DE08.  I've had a mouthful of gelatin and lots of salt and a pack of roasted seaweed and a couple squirts of concentrated lemon juice every day, and lately, some chocolate. I've had coconut water twice weekly ish and yesterday ate a whole single pack of lays stax from the snack shop.  Plus extra chocolate.   I had double the chocolate today too, because it's been so easy to say it's christmas, binge a little.   I've  gone from 150 ish to 130 ish pounds since the 8th and that includes 2 gained from the christmas binge. Someone had a food tent set up for us on the icbc lawn.  That was nice. they went round knocking. I told them I didn't eat anymore.  they didn't understand.  I might have otherwise found food I do eat, but  I really intend to do this. It's so difficult emotionally. Physically it's distressingly familiar.  I've been doing this before from just...

There is a place.  You have to wait for the right fog. The kind of magic mist that takes the city away in sound and sight and leaves you in a forest alone.  Then you turn to the left, a step and a half, just there, between those two spots, you slip through and away. Over there, I am home.  It's where I belong.  There is a village by the woods and the hearths are stone and the houses warm and the food local. People share the burden of survival.  I have a big wooden chair by the hearth where I sit and spin yarn. Someone brings me more wool or when it's dinner, a meal, and I spin yarn. Someone else hauls away the yarn to the dyers.  We all work together. The house is never silent whether it's people talking or making music or the pets dominating the audio while the healthy folks are doing the bigger chores. But then there's always a few kids to watch too. People think I don't like kids. I  let them. I don't know them here anymore, they're not real kids in...

If I was a kid, services. When I was a kid, services only for adults because parents were responsible. When they fixed that, I wss one year too old for services. Addiction? Services. Non-white? Services. Visibly handicapped to the degree that "ugly laws" would have affected you? Yep, services.  Got kids? Services. Me? Delay, deny, defend.        Dan and I have been talking about signing my bus over to him in March as the only  way to keep it on the road. It won't pass certification in BC and I can't relicense it in sk.  I was starting to calm down, accepting that it would work and why was I so resistant? Then tonight I was telling a woman with an emotionally abusive ex about how Dan used to boost me up then slam me down, emotionally, using rage and tantrums and witholding of "nice dan." I went absolutely cold realizing I was about to sign myself back over to this person.  He's been on his best behaviour only because I own my bus and can drive...

Come get the unicorn magic while it lasts, I guess. You are entering a future of pastels and greys and blacks and reds. In all things you will express hate, not love, devotion, not fealty, anger, not peace, smug satisfaction, not joy.  We are dying. I want to die most fervently, more so than ever before. I do not feel any hope for anyone or anything. I do not believe in any of the spirituality stuff. I don't believe in love or anything. I do believe I will see only more sorrow and pain for the foreseeable future with no benefit or gain beyond sun on water.   Yesterday was the first of every other day fasting. When the food runs out, it's free and keto or I no eato. Will I die from this? It's really hard to say. If there is anything but these meat bags battling for space, then I am unkillable. If there isn't, I can enhance the effort. If asked, I will state that I am on a hunger strike against poverty. What's more, now I can afford candles and bic lighters and wd...

There was a cast and crew photoshoot and I took my dozen "glass" embroidered slipper brooches mounted on hand painted cards of the bridge with glow in the dark moon and stuff.  Bridge wasn't breathtakingly well painted.  I suck at watercolor. Not my preferred medium. Well anyway, the idea of using embroidery was to catch the eye of wardrobe and indeed I have.  Tonight I sewed up a couple of quick ribbons for the prince's shoes and I am tickled with them. They make me very happy.  I can imagine the wardrobe mistress saying they're too bright but I'm dead sure this is the esthetic of the current play in all things.  Over the top and extravagant.  My fave. I heard some references to how the prince's ribbons get a few quips because they're so insanely fancy.  I was given some of the fabric from his costume to match it up and while it was not impossible to turn that into ribbon, it certainly wouldn't have been fun or especially princely.  Instead I dov...

I keep noodling around on this problem of being perceived as a braggart.  I do not understand what is triggering it, just to be clear.  See, I do not know how to inform people of the services I have to offer without telling them, but in the act of telling them, they decide I am dishonest about it.  I try hard to communicate that I am not all that and a bag of chips at everything, that I am there to be useful, not great.  I respond to correction with a willing heart and proceed with intention and good cheer. I try and work independantly to free up the mind of the supervisor without forgetting to check in and see that I'm still going in the right direction. So what am I doing wrong?  Sometimes I wonder if I actually am extraordinary but unaware of it, so as I describe my normal little self I sound like describing someone extraordinary. I mean, yeah, I have been clearly informed I am not ordinary. Therefor, extraordinary.   But still, why do I sound like ...

I've been volunteering at the community theatre for 3 plays now.  They are letting me do some really complex stuff and I'm super pleased with my own work.  i haven't been criticised nor sense unspoken disappointment and they all give me high praise.  I even got called one of the "two stars of the team" by the head artist/set designer but I suss her praise as she's as free with it as a grade school art teacher. She essentially strives to be a sweet old lady and even bakes a batch of cookies every day to share.  She scares the daylights out of me. I sense this is her ego's home and she will hold it to the last man standing.  I have been striving hard to show her enough deference and cheerful agreement to bypass any possible sense of competition she might get. Today she said she thought I was very down to earth.  That was about the most unusual compliment I've ever had but when I looked up the general definition, it was a: high praise indeed and b: deeply...

I haven't written for awhile and things happen.  Volunteering in theatre has been very good for me.  i  would like to parlay it into an IATSE membership.  With zero history or documentation or contacts this is asking a LOT.  I wish I could jump faster on it but putting in time volunteering is the only hope I have right now.   I went in to workBC to try and massage a resume out of it and was sorely disappointed by the skillsets presented by the support worker.  She barely seemed to know how computers work, had a sour puss face and even tried to discourage me at first. Eventually enough info about me came out, in spite of her trying to stay 10 paces distant from the work, the info, and me, metaphorically speaking, that she started to warm up a little bit.  She said she thought it was a longshot and I pointed out that even my being alive was a longshot and no point worrying about it. Frankly, it's the shortest shot I have, but proving that is th...

I've had an epiphany about bullying. Psychological bullying is worse than physical.  With physical, there are intervals of peace. They hurt you hard and take a break. Whether because they're satisfied or feeling guilty seeing you injured, or because the injuries elicit protection, you get a break.  How long?  Days or weeks I suppose.  Not so psychological bullying.  It's all day every day, everywhere, everyone, and the few people who feel sympathy sit and talk about it all too often. I had a few lights.  Teachers who gave me something else to think about and some quiet space to do it. Not enough, honestly.  It was books that really saved me.  From books I learned about feeling and health and human interactions and character and morals and self esteem and so much more. I learned that hope was important and cheering someone up was valuable and so very much about being a good person.   Well I think that part of my strength today is that the...

i just realized, I'm afraid to have "friends."  Yep.  I feel unable to meet the standards required by people for friendship.  I can't afford the gifts and dinners and parking fees.  I can't keep track of the number of times I need to pony up precious funds for said things either.  I mean, christmas and their birthday is hard enough.  Once a year, sure, if they do the same, but having to remember their wedding anniversaries, special personal event memories, details and names from their family and external friends, and where they've gone to vacation or worked. Nope. It's all in one ear and out the other and I don't know why it's important enough to make it a thing.  Tell me your story, sure, and I'll tell you mine.  However, please do not require me to memorize it and bring it forth to show you how important you are.  in fact, please don't require from me that I show you that you are important.   Nothing is more important than anythin...

Well it turns out I do not have COPD , asthma, etc. at all.  Curious, yes. How then did I wind up coughing day and night, sneezing fits for minutes and taking $200 worth of meds monthly? How indeed. Well to recap, the house had black mold and by the time i knew about it I was too sick to fix it myself.  I still didn't believe it was to blame, the idea of some mould in the corner of my bathroom being a hazard seemed absurd.  Sure, furry walls, but this was just a little corner behind the toilet (not).  Well and there was the cleaning and painting jobs I did, also valid causes of lung and nose issues. So yeah, I didn't question the first asthma attack. I quit smoking that night. (yeah, that too) and it seemed better but the Dr. gave me the rescue inhaler. This I still need, I still have issues when I pant too much.  So as the cancer did it's endocrine work and I got sicker over all, the lung thing just didn't get attention, instead I kept graduating to stronger me...

With Dan easily passing as senior we didn't even have to show ID to get the discounted price at the everything electric show. I like that!  I'm 4 years waiting but he's clearly over 65 so I just asked for 2 senior and we weren't challenged. It's like how as a kid I was getting the under 11 discount right up to age 13. Hehehe I made sure to enjoy my money's worth too, taking any swag they offered and test driving 3 of the 6 brands of car available.  I considered more but I was tired from talking to people. Dan thoroughly enjoyed getting out and was all kinds of pleasant company.  Staying on topic, being patient, interested and involved.  It was the guy I'd married, frankly, and that's all I ever wanted out of him. Well anyway, he really got a kick out of the harbour planes, seabus, the harbour views, the sod roofs, the fancy buildings, and learning to use transit which he has never done before.  I should take him on the trains next time for a fun jaunt to...

In addition to visting the disability advocate this week I got an appointment at the job office.   So the disability thing, they cannot appeal the current one because it's too badly written. It's a 16wk waiting list, so late november. Which is about when the meds run out. The ostomy stuff looks to be covered by the person's with multiple barrier designation for which I do qualify. Now here's an interesting thing, the job's place offers counselling. Ordinarily you get 10 hrs/mth, but as PWMB I get more, she wasn't sure how much but implied it was at least double if not unlimited. Unlimited would be excessive, but like 3 times a week for 90mins would probably be really useful. They can do full psych assessments, full physical abilities tests, just a lot of useful metrics and that creates a paper trail for my disability claim. Even if they do get me employed I still need that for a higher support level in general. It's a lot more than just money or employa...

It's the end of a terrible day.  Running around in an unhideable funk wishing death on the world and literally ramming through crowds rudely and hollering "no you aren't" at people who use the word "sorry."  I couldn't even make it till group drop in started.  One guy there couldn't stand me and shut me out real fast and I just knew these people were going to tell me I didn't belong there, I needed something or someone else, good luck with that. People in British Columbia seem as a whole to be the sort to wave at a drowning man and cheerily wish him a good swim, while full well knowing he's drowning. Well I went around to a few reception desks getting the same damn overwheling piles of uncurated cold call numbers and got home exhausted.  Called 211 because i was still too freaked out to sit still and I thought it was the crisis line.  Well it was a help line, and  really just just a place to compile a list of numberrs to call.  But she did pu...