I hate snow and my body hates cold. My joints are achy. My head is pounding and I’m so tired . . . My body cannot relax.
I miss walking. I miss warm breezes.
I wish I could live in a place that was mostly sunny. . . 70`s during the day and 50`s at night. However no snakes, bugs, spiders, or bees. (I know we need those for flowers to grow, but I am more of a city girl anyway, not a farm/country girl. I just want to be able to go outside for a long walk and worry about ice.)
The problem is that most people want that too so it would belong the rich for vacation escapes.
It honestly only exists in my dreams. . . Sighs.
I love to write. The feel of a good pen in my hands as it glides on the page. It invites the words, the color, the creativity.
However my hands have been swelling and cramping for weeks now. I tried water pills, but I sleep and they are swollen again. There are cramps as I write. Pushing down on my palm hurts, moving it too much hurts.
It hurts to hold a pen or a fork. It hurts to make a fist. These damn cramps. I probably have arthritis or carpal tunnel syndrome.
I refuse to give up my writing. I felt due my ear issue, I had give up music. I’m not giving up my writing too.
Maybe I can get my computer fixed soon . . . So I can type more.
I’m going to the doctor soon.
I do enjoy sleep when I have good dreams and the air is just right not too hot or too cold. The blanket is comfy and smells good. I wake up actually feeling refreshed.
This usually only happens maybe 1 time out every 50.
I usually wake up stiff, tired or exhausted (like I didn’t sleep at all). I’ve either hot, cold, in pain, with a headache. . . Or have to wake up due to my bladder or panic attack or choking with breathing problems.
Sometimes I can sleep for 12 hours and feel like I had not slept all. Sometimes I can run all day on four good hours of sleep, again, this is rare. My depression makes me want to sleep even more and not get out of bed.
I have sleep apnea where I do not get enough air in or out. I snore very loud, get dry mouth, grind my teeth, wake up with jaw pain, and headaches.
Apnea makes me wake up choking, my lips to be blue due to lack of oxygen, my head is foggy and it’s hard to focus, my eyes twitch, my eyes are heavy. I get migraines and my stomach don’t settle.
My animea makes me exhausted. I was so tired from the lack of blood cells that I have choked on my food several times.
Caffeine or lack of caffeine really screws me up. If I drink coffee or energy (no ginsing) at the wrong times and my day and night schedules are off.
My anxiety fills my head will ideas and I’m up with insomnia, but I am usually a zombie.
With all of these problems sleep is hard for me.
Things in My basket for a bad day
- Self care basket
- Chocolate brownies or cake
- Coffee with flavored creamers
- Dial shower gel (I love the feel and smell.)
- Color pens
- A book with a good twist
- Movies: comedies and chick flicks
- My tablet with my personal play list (music)
I get inspiration, motivation, and energy at different times of the day.
Currently its been between the hours of 1am to 7am which is usually dark.
The last two days I’ve been fighting migraines because the glare of the tablet light on my eyes while I write.
Most people do not understand that migraines put me down. They make me nauseated and my eyes cannot work.
My eyes were so bad yesterday that I could feel my fever in my eyes.
I need to get my health in some kind of order.
I’m writing Short Stories.
I put my feelings in each one. These are flash fiction but very personal. In the last few year my heart and soul shattered, each of these pieces are my a piece of shattered heart and soul.
I hope to find myself and piece myself together.
I’m posting them on my Short Story blog. . .
Rebekah Quinne Short Stories
Between PTSD and depression, I have not been happy.
I’ve tried sims, cooking and the rest of my content list. . .
1. Listening to music
2. Comfortably writing for hours
3. Soda pop
6. Getting out or dinning out
7. Talking to friends
9. Watching funny TV
10. Going to the movies
I just can’t get or find happiness. Why?
Ironic this writing assignment is over a week late to deadline (anniversary of Toms death January 13th.) The irony is that it was usually Tom nagging me, pushing me to finish my writing on time. Another ironic thing is Interview with a Vampire is playing in the background. Tom’s favorite movie.
Tom’s Dream Funeral
I lived with Tom for 8 years. . . I like to believe you get to know someone really well in 8 years.
As lovely and simple as the real funeral was . . . it was not what Tom would have wanted. He told first of all, he wanted to be biodiamonds. He wanted to be made into jewelry for those closest to him. I would have requested a ring for my middle finger on right hand. The right hand is my dominant and he taught me to say “fuck it” sometimes.
I think it would be in the woods with candles, latter’s and huge bonfire. We have a fake body in which we burn while celebrating him moving into a different realm. We drink, eat, listen to his favorite classic rock music. We sit around the fire and tell stories of him.
What I miss the most, I’ll never find anyone as passionate as he was. He bold, daring, loud, and rambunctious. There was rarely a dull moment with him. Whether it was him yelling at TV over wrestling or football or passionate reciting Lestat quotes from Anne Rice.
I also think I never got to appreciate the way he should have been. He taught me so much about love, hope, dreams, support, and passionate. I hope he knows he will always be remembered for his liveliness.
I laugh because I know he will still haunt me. (He celebrated his birthdays for weeks, not days.)
I’m talking about my ex Tom. He was my longest relationship so far. It is hard to get him out of my head . . . he passed away from cancer January 13, 2017. (Saturday will be his anniversary of his death.)
So starting today, I’m going to highlight a different thing about him until Saturday and I will write out his funeral the way he would have wanted it.
(I find it funny that I told myself I was going to give myself until December 31st, 2017 and move on. He and I both know I am trying, but when someone lives you for 8 years of your life, they make an impact. )