Their world does end every generation. What they forget is that a new one begins|
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|Wednesday, December 4th, 2013|
I find myself in a peculiar position.
In a relatively tight-knit social group, I usually feel like an outrider... not necessarily an outsider, but not totally entwined there, either. I have a few people that I will attach myself to, people that I truly enjoy interacting with and feel close enough to walk up and sit next to at a meeting for instance. From time to time I go through periods of intense longing to be a more fully-integrated part of the group... to go out to dinner after meeting, to go to the parties to make those deeper connections, to go to the guild gatherings and craft nights. Get to know people better, especially the people I actually enjoy spending time with. Get more connected.
It's like sticky threads are being thrown at me, and I mostly stay just out of reach. Occasionally I let a thread stick, even though I usually end up removing it later.
Whenever I go through these periods of yearning, I have to remind myself that I choose this
. If I get more involved with this, I can't do that over there. If I give all my available time and energy to get really connected in one group, that removes the opportunities to connect with that group or start that project over there. And all of these people and projects take me away from the garden. Which is truly more important?
I cannot do it all. It's a constant battle of priorities fighting amongst themselves for time, money, and attention.This tension is fueling a heartsick right now.
|Sunday, October 6th, 2013|
So my husband and I got in a huge fight at six o'clock this morning, and after he finally went to bed and fell asleep, I ate 1/3 of a 9x12 crumb cake.
What emotional eating? :/
|Friday, September 6th, 2013|
As I said in the last post, I've gained 20 pounds since I quit smoking. I have a very good diet. We eat tons of vegetables, healthy meat, and almost all of our treats are homemade and loaded with good fats, fruit, and whole grains. I just eat too much. My "full" sensation seems to be broken. I overeat to the point of discomfort at almost every meal, and yet I'm still somehow hungry. Lately this has been downright alarming. I always want sugar as soon as I get home, then eat dinner, then have a "treat" later in the evening. I snack while I'm cooking dinner. I know this has something to do with sugar since my sugar cravings/overeating tapered off while I was doing the paleo diet.
My acupuncturist's theory is that other parts of my life aren't "feeding" me, so I'm using food to fulfill unmet needs. That's probably pretty accurate but other areas of my life aren't going to change and I'm really unhappy at this weight. My clothes don't fit and dammit, I have cute clothes. I feel unhealthy.
Yesterday I purchased a one-month yoga studio membership coupon to jump-start my only exercise love. Hot yoga, here I come! I still ride my bike to work and back as much as possible, even running errands on my bike on my days off. Between that and the fact that I'm working in the garden for hours and hours on my days off, I feel like I get a moderate amount of exercise.
I quit smoking after 20 years. Next to that, losing weight should be easy. Ideas, suggestions and encouragement welcome!
|Thursday, July 11th, 2013|
|Navel-gazing towards 39
So, I didn't get the grant. Long story short- I applied for a department of agriculture grant, and I didn't get it. I will get my scores, work on where the scores were too low, and apply for the grant again next year... but I'm remarkably disappointed. I was pretty sure I wasn't going to get the grant but so many people told me that application was really good... I tried not to build up any hope, but I guess it leaked in a bit.
Anyways, so I'm having my typical reaction, which is to start on the "WTF am I doing with my life?" "Where are my priorities, really?" and to come to the conclusion, once again, that I'm heading in so many directions that I can't do any of them excellently but I can't face the consequences of cutting any of them out.
|Monday, May 6th, 2013|
|Coping with loss
So on Saturday my son-in-law, the husband of my stepdaughter, was killed in action in Afghanistan. He was on patrol with four other men in his unit and they hit a roadside bomb. Everyone in the vehicle was killed.
My stepdaughter is 24. Their daughter just turned 4 years old.
My stepdaughter is on her way to claim her husband's body. She still hasn't found a way to tell their daughter. He will be buried in Arlington National Cemetery in Virginia, we'll be leaving later in the week for the funeral.
What is foremost in my mind in this moment is regret that I didn't know him better. He was often deployed or on maneuvers during their marriage and they lived very far away so we didn't spend much time with them. I wish I had made spending time with them a higher priority in my life. I wish I had worked harder on developing those relationships.
All of our effort now will be supporting my stepdaughter and granddaughter and helping them go through this horrible change.
|Tuesday, April 23rd, 2013|
|As a parent of teenagers
I wrote this as a comment on someone else's journal, and want to keep it for my own record, so I'm posting it here.
Is it possible that she is putting effort into something you do not see?
I am asking because what you are saying here is basically what my parents said to ME as a teenager. I got below-average grades and made the barest effort at school. I didn't have many friends. I didn't play sports or join after-school activities.
However, I was putting extraordinary effort into my own self-education. I read ALL OF THE THINGS. Stacks and stacks of books, magazines, comics. I observed, and journaled about my observations. I listened to a huge wide variety of music and learned a huge amount about music styles and music theory, even though I wasn't interested in playing an instrument. I had a very hard time relating to people my own age so I spent huge amounts of time envisioning social encounters, playing them out in my head over and over and over, just so I could cope with people in real life. From the outside it looked like daydreaming perhaps. For a time my parents were fighting a lot and that drove me deep into my own shell. Just coping with my own emotions took a huge amount of processing space and time, there wasn't much left over for that ridiculous thing called "homework".
I came out of high school as a fairly well-adjusted person with my sense of curiosity and self-esteem intact. And that's no mean feat.
It's good that you can remember how much it sucks to be a teenager. I do too, and it really helps me be sympathetic/empathetic with my own teenagers (who are 18, 15, and 12). But I also try to remember all of the things I WISHED my mother would have said to me at that age, all of the things I WISHED she had done, and I try to do and say those things, too.
Hope this helps.
|Tuesday, January 29th, 2013|
|Finding My Voice
I can't believe it's been two months since I've written anything here. And how much LJ has changed in the past 2 months.
It's been one year since I started writing in my blog "seriously" and actually putting work into it. In the past year my photography has improved, I've learned more about the technical side of writing and administering a wordpress blog, and I think my writing has improved. I've gone from 10 fans on my facebook page to 220. I have 38 blog subscribers. My average hits per day is 150.
But I still feel like the blog is not *me*.
I keep reading everywhere that the most important part of blogging is writing from your authentic self. I am not doing that, not really. I do not want Green Basket to be a food blog. I write about food and I publish recipes because I love food and I love sharing recipes, but I also write about garden projects and cow pooling and every once in a while I write an opinion piece. These things are all nice, but I'm still holding back. I'm still holding back because I don't want to alienate my current readers by talking about pagan stuff, but I don't know if I'm "pagan enough" to be a "pagan blogger". I don't want Green Basket to be a pagan blog about local food and permaculture. I want Green Basket to be... what?
What am I writing about right now? The overlaps between growing your own food, permaculture projects, recipes using local food. Charcuterie and fermenting using local ingredients. I have a unique perspective on these things, but I've been the minority in the minority in the minority for so long, I'm so used to keeping my mouth shut in this group or that group... I'm too libertarian for the hippies, I'm too skeptical for the pagans, I'm too radical for the food security activists, I'm too down-to-earth for the feminist herbalists. I feel like this blog is going to keep limping along until I can find my unique voice and stop being scared of alienating everyone. I have a book in here somewhere, sometimes I lay in bed and write pages and pages in my head... it may be a book that no one wants to read, but aren't they all?
I have to figure out what exactly I want out of this whole blogging *thing*. What do I want to say? What are my goals? ARe those goals helped or hindered by the blog? Is the blog just writing practice?
Every month I know I'm having a PMS day when I think about deleting GreenBasket entirely for various reasons. That's irrational and I haven't done it (yet) but somewhere in there is a message that I need to listen to and resolve, some inner conflict.
|Monday, November 26th, 2012|
|Buses and Mothers
My van has finally died, and I'm back on the bus. The bus I have to take now snakes through many low-income neighborhoods and is often filled with very young mothers with small children.
The way these women treat their children makes me sick to my stomach.
Bus rides are both boring and distracting. The little kids are given nothing to do but then smacked or threatened with smacking for moving, speaking, or fidgeting. There is no positive, loving interaction between mother and child. They're either threatened or ignored. I spent the whole ride yesterday listening to a woman tell her small son how she was going to leave him on the bus if he didn't stay in his seat, over and over.
The child ignored her. He was obviously so inured to her hateful words and nasty tone that he completely tuned her out. He was probably 3 years old.
I got off the bus 3 stops early and walked the rest of the way. I wish I could say that she was the exception to the rule, but that would be a lie.
I'm mighty motivated to start riding my bike again.
|Tuesday, October 23rd, 2012|
|Update on Smoking
In a week or so it will be one year since I quit smoking.
I'm still smoking in certain situations but those situations are so specific and happen so rarely that I'm not worried about it at all. Cigarette smoking *can* be like alcohol consumption- okay in moderation, but I don't want to do it every day. My definition of "moderation" means I will smoke when I'm sitting in a group of people outside and drinking. Usually there's a bonfire involved and I'm wearing funny clothes.
I'm going to teach at a pagan festival next weekend. I'll be nervous and mostly with strangers plus camping with alcohol, so I'm going to buy an electronic cigarette with no nicotine and see if that will take care of the "must have something in my hand/mouth" craving. I no longer need or want the nicotine. I'll also bring the hookah since the ritual of setting it up, lighting it and sharing it with people is immensely satisfying but one bowl of tobacco lasts HOURS and I can just sit there and hold it, too.
Not smoking on a daily basis is wonderful. I'm so glad I quit.
|Monday, October 22nd, 2012|
|Not even my subconscious is subtle
Stress and anxiety are two different emotional/mental states.
1. A feeling of worry, nervousness, or unease, typically about an imminent event or something with an uncertain outcome.
2. A desire to do something, typically accompanied by unease.
2. mental, emotional, or physical strain or tension
Believe it or not, I never really separated or differentiated between the two words, never really paid attention, until just a few months ago when my acupuncturist asked me to rate my level of stress from a 1 to a 10 and I answered "nine and a half", but then the words he used didn't describe how I was feeling at all. We talked it out and realized that he said stress but meant anxiety, and while I was feeling a great deal of stress due to a tight schedule, large amounts of responsibility, and high stakes... I wasn't very anxious at all. I was confident in my abilities, I understood the parameters, and had a detailed plan in place.
Anxiety for me is a huge blinking red neon sign that I'm not working hard enough or prioritizing well. So when I had a long dream a few nights ago about trying to organize a last-minute dinner and food burned, things tasted bad, no one showed up, etc... that was the anxiety dream kick in the pants I needed to get me going on this feast. Not even my subconscious is subtle.
So Friday I did almost all of the price shopping for ingredients, and tonight I tested 4 recipes and typed out about half the recipes for the entire feast. And now I feel much calmer.
|Wednesday, October 17th, 2012|
In the past few months I have made a new realization about myself. I have discovered a new thing.
I should only have one obsession at a time.
When I started looking into permaculture techniques a year ago, I was immediately intrigued. Then I got more than intrigued. I stepped off the cliff and started devouring everything I could find. Permaculture design principles fit into the interlocking puzzle in my brain of pagan land use/sanctity of land/local food/gardening/terroir morass like a missing piece in the middle, locking it all together, making it spin off in new and unexpected directions. Big ways. Like "I'm thinking about writing a book" kind of ways. Then we moved into the new house and it's all like this giant playground and endless science experiment and I can try all these new things... and it has completely eaten my brain. I love it, but it's eaten my brain.
It's awfully hard to concentrate on a feast when there's compost to be turned. It's awfully hard to concentrate on writing reports for work when there are plants and lizards and butterflies beckoning. The garden is taking over my local food blog, that's for sure, and I can't even decide if I want to wrench it back. I'm scaling back everything possible for time in the garden. I'm structuring my weekends around garden projects as much as cooking projects, sometimes more. "The Garden" is now a line item in our monthly household budget.
I'm giving up shoe money for truckloads of mulch, y'all.
Feasts require one's full attention, and usually for me I eat, breathe, and dream about a feast for three months or so. I have the whole thing in my head weeks before the actual event, the whole cohesive vision plus all the little details. Here I am 3 weeks before the feast and I have done almost nothing. Yeah there's a menu, I've done most of the recipe testing, I've sourced most of the ingredients... but I haven't done the back-brain simmering, the obsessive pricing and budgeting, none of the gruntwork writing that a feast needs to run well and for me to be able to be on top of it when the unexpected happens. 'cause the unexpected always happens. The feast has always been my sole obsession.
So, from now until November 9th, I need to eat, breathe, and dream this feast as much as possible. The workshops for the pagan gathering I could teach tomorrow. They need very little prep work. I have one project to finish and then I'll be in a good pausing place with the garden for a few weeks. This feast needs a lot of love and attention and work between now and then. 'cause this one has to be the best feast I've ever done.
|Thursday, October 11th, 2012|
Tell the truth about what you want, what you are seeking under the guise of enlightenment or self-realization. Profoundly examine your motivation. What are you seriously intent upon?... If, in fact, you want to hold on to something a little bit longer in the arenas of power, sex, and survival, if you want to milk a little more pleasure from THINGS, then tell the truth. There is a moment of truth that is profound, where, if you truly want freedom, you are willing for your whole life to end right now. You are not waiting another moment. Only truth is important.
Found this on facebook and it stopped me dead. What a great exercise to apply to any area of my life right now. I need clarification? Clarification cannot be found externally. Clarity can only come from me.
|Monday, October 1st, 2012|
This event was a whirlwind.
Spent Friday shopping, packing, cooking and baking. Made herb goat cheese dip, fresh pear & sage turkey breakfast sausage meat, and a gluten-free mocha fudge bundt cake. Picked Elizabeth up early from school, ran more errands, got home, finished packing the car with the kids, and left for site.
Got to site, unpacked, trolled in, bunks made and curtains hung... and hid in my curtained-off bunk bed reading while the party rolled around me for a couple of hours. After dark I finally got into garb, delivered my contribution to a member of the Barony's vigil spread, hung out at the vigil a bit, visited in the feast hall, wandered back to the cabin, and stayed up until well after midnight chatting on the porch.
Woke up at 5:15am. Tried to put on Roman garb by myself, failed, woke costuming laurel on the other side of the cabin to help me. Packed the car. Drove to Margi's cabin to have my hair done, cabin was pitch black and full of snoring people. Whispering accomplished nothing. Gave up and went to the hall. Made 2 gallons of chai from scratch, set up tables, sent friends to town for everything I forgot, set up paperwork, started registering people's projects. Wrangled artisans and judges through the whole process of running four competitions simultaneously with 22 projects instead of the expected 12 with one helper, my deputy.
At 11am another fighter brought Alex in, he'd gotten overheated, had no breakfast, and received a blow to the diaphram and thrown up on the field. Thankfully he'd gotten his helmet off first. Fended off over-excited friends who wanted to drop ice down his pants. Got him settled, cooled off, eventually drinking and eating. He went back to the cabin and slept for the rest of the afternoon.
Yelled, reminded, announced, and nagged everyone to drop their beads for populace choice. Caught up on paperwork. Ate lunch. Drank too much tea. Finally closed up the artsci faire, tallied everything, submitted court cards, and cleaned everything up. Went to court, handed out the prizes, handed off both offices, and received a second Tradewinds, which was very awesomely unexpected. Stayed through court.
Then it was into the kitchen to set up for feast, where I was staging leftovers for the kitchen crew. Got through feast. Immediately back to the cabin, where student #2 had made dinner in his little portable kitchen rig on the back porch. Scarfed down delicious dinner, realized he had given no thought to how to clean up or wash dishes, so student #1 and I rigged a wash station, washed all the dishes and cleaned up. I gathered up the bundt cake and decorations and towed everyone in the cabin in my wake back to the hall to make ganache, decorate the cake, deliver it to the zombie party, open the bottle of wine, and then swept everyone back to the cabin.
Saturday night was one of those perfect SCA nights. We had a little crowd on our cabin back porch, not too many, a few new-to-me people, and everyone just... clicked. We told SCA "no shit there I was" stories for a long time. The Queen and her retinue came over, stayed a bit, and wandered off again. Student #1 regaled everyone with "How I met Madhavi" stories, which made me laugh until tears were running down my face, then I belted him. It was laughing and crying and private, just with a few people as witnesses, just the way we both wanted it. I drank a bottle of wine and smoked too many cigarettes, made new acquaintances, got to know some people a whole lot better, and was reminded over and over just how small and wonderful this world is. I finally staggered off to bed at 3am.
And woke up at 7:30 to harangue, cajole, and terrorize the kids into helping me pack everything up from the hall and cabin and get it in the car. We left site at 9am exactly and got to the airport to pick up Jim with 10 minutes to spare.
And then promptly got sick Sunday night. Wonder why?
|Thursday, September 20th, 2012|
Sometimes I forget that this whole LJ thing is also for me to actually, you know, journal
. So I can look back and see what's happened.
I got the job and turned it down. I accepted the assistant's position, it's 5 hours per week and I'm only responsible for social media, event coordination for festivals, and the occasional weekend if the market manager is sick. It's $9 per hour, which is pitifully low, but the entire yearly budget for the market is only $15K. Mostly it's about making connections.
In two weeks I'm running an artsci faire, handing over two offices, and taking an apprentice, all in one day. I'm ridiculously excited.
I'm trying not to get frustrated about the slow growth of my blog. If I devoted more time to marketing, SEO, networking, maintenance- all the bullshit that I hate- then I would probably be much farther along. I just keep trying new things.
Every extra brain cell is devoted to the garden. I think every dime I make at this extra job's going to go towards the garden too.
The kids are all doing well. I can't wait for Alex to start adult ed classes. We bought a second car so we'll have 2 cars until my van finally kicks the bucket. Jim's computer business is still limping along while they pour incredible amounts of time and energy into it. Jim's also switching jobs, from a dead-end job in a big company to a management position in a tiny company with slightly better pay and much better prospects. He's pouring his heart and soul into his company though and I hope he can quit the full-time job soon and devote all of his time to his company.
I can't believe how late it is.
| 1. Ghost Story- Jim Butcher2. The Mall of Cthulhu- Brendan Halpin
3. Ice Song- Kirsten Imani Kasai
4. Tattoo- Kirsten Imani Kasai5. Conquistador- SM Stirling
6. Shadow Pavilion- Liz Williams
7. Grail- Elizabeth Bear
8. The White City- Elizabeth Bear
9. The Minority Council- Kate Griffin
10. Dies The Fire- SM Stirling
I can't believe it's been so long since I've posted the books I've read... I hope I can remember them all. I really like keeping track.
11. The Apocalypse Codex- Charles Strauss
12. Embassytown- China Mieville
13. Snuff- Terry Pratchett
14. Caliban's War- James S.A. Corey
15. The Iron Khan- Liz Williams
16. Chill- Elizabeth Bear
I'm reading some great stuff this year.
|Tuesday, September 11th, 2012|
So a few weeks ago I applied for the market manager position at my favorite local farmer's market. This is a job I'm really interested in having but I was kinda "haha, I'll never get this" about it. Then I went back the next week and the current assistant manager said I was on the short list. Then I went in for the interview yesterday and by the end of the interview it's down to me and one other person.
Pros- It's 15 hours a week in the slow season (winter) and 20 hours a week the rest of the year. That doesn't sound like much but I already have a full-time job. A busy, sometimes difficult, often brain-eating full-time job.If I took this job I would be working 6 days a week, every week. The pay is less than $10 an hour so I'd be making a little more than $500 after taxes. That would knock down our small medical debt in less than a year if we put every penny from this extra job towards it, which would be nice.
It's work I'm really, really interested in. Not only would I be working with local farmers at the market, I'd be doing the onsite farm inspections and coordinating market events. I'd also be administering the website and doing all of the social media.
Cons- I barely have enough time as it is. I would never see my children. I feel like I'm ignoring them already! I do have to work some weekends at my full-time job, plus SCA commitments through the end of the year. Taking this job would mean major changes in our home life, too. Jim is already working 2 jobs, even if he only gets paid for one of them. He would be responsible for the lion's share of shopping and cooking, the things I enjoy the most. I would only have 1 day a week to work on projects or work in the garden, and frankly I'll probably want to lay on the couch and read.
I know this is a bad idea. We don't NEED the money and man this would be a really interesting job and I'd make loads of great contacts in the community in a meaningful way... but I just don't know if the sacrifices are worth it. I'm starting to lean towards "no".
Something I thought of when I was wrestling with this last night- there are 2 of us shadowing the market manager on Saturday. If I think I can work with the other applicant, I'm going to suggest to her that we share the job, alternating weeks. That would be the best of all worlds, really... I can do an extra 4 days per month, no problem. Right? Right?
|Thursday, August 23rd, 2012|
|I am not a bad mother
Jim is not a bad father. We are not bad parents. I am not a failure as a homeschooler. Homeschooling was not a mistake. I am not a failure.
This is my mantra right now.
Alex was turned down for the magnet program at the job training high school. When I finally got a hold of the correct administrator, she was very kind and sympathetic and talked me through the whole decision making process and his record. To put it bluntly, he doesn't have enough high school credits to graduate before he turns 19, which is the age limit for public high school students, even if he passes every single class. This school was literally our last hope for getting Alex into the dual-enrollment high school program for welding. This means the dual-enrollment program won't take him, either... their limit is 19, too.
My child is never going to have a high school diploma. I just have to keep saying it until I can say it without tearing up.
Getting a GED is absolutely not the end of the world, I know. I suspect that the original mistake was putting Alex in public school at all, but what could I do? I had to go back to work. He says about himself "I'm not a self-motivated learner" even though I think that's Jim in his head telling him "you're just like me, lazy" and a whole bunch of other "I'm stupid" stuff he's absorbed through his siblings, their success in school, probably the public school teachers, and everywhere else where book-learning is valued over anything else. I knew that public school wasn't the right place for his "academic success", but dammit he made HUGE strides socially and emotionally and in every other way. And he did LEARN, he just could never regurgitate that learning back to the teachers in a way that could be GRADED. He wanted discourse, and he got "shut up, and take this test".
So now I'm going back to the original plan, before we got this glimmer of hope. I just ordered my own copy of the "Teenage Liberation Handbook". I'm looking at flights to Portland so he can visit with my sister for a month or so, maybe longer, and travel a little. I'm hoping he can continue with the blacksmithing training as soon as possible. Jim is really pushing him to get a job, but it has to be the right kind of job.
I am not a bad mother. Jim is not a bad father. We are not bad parents. I am not a failure as a homeschooler. Homeschooling was not a mistake. I am not a failure.
|Tuesday, August 14th, 2012|
I just got turned down as a blogger by a big pagan website. The very nice and gentle email said they already had a blogger that covered all the same subjects as mine. So I checked our her blog. Not only was does her blog overlap mine pretty significantly (though not the same!) her blog is BETTER.
Better because she actually writes about her opinions and experiences. Better because she's not afraid
to write about her opinions.
My target audience is local cooks and gardeners, but also pagans. In the spring when I was experimenting with Twitter I participated in a food policy twitter party about "reaching beyond the choir". That conversation really challenged me to think outside the people who already get it. Who can I reach? Who do I want to reach? What do I feel passionately about?
Well, I feel passionate about reaching out to the pagan community about local food, gardening, and environmentalism as a way to plant your feet in the earth. So passionately I want to write a book about it. So passionately I'm paying a pagan festival to teach classes about it.
So why aren't I writing about it on my blog, which is supposed to be my space? #1 reason is that I'm afraid of scaring away my local readers. Even though I'm about as "out" as it's possible to be, I don't want to write a pagan blog about gardening and local food. I want to write a local food and gardening blog written by a pagan. Don't I? Or maybe that's why my blog is growing so slowly, because I'm fence-sitting... too afraid to scare away either "audience" so I only write about concrete subjects, never offer opinions or editorials. I can't find a happy balance.
|Monday, August 6th, 2012|
|why I got sick
For those of you who aren't on facebook- the week before last I thought I was getting the flu. I went to the doctor, he confirmed it was a virus. The next morning I was in the emergency room. I left with the diagnosis of "kidney infection". I spent most of the next week laying on the couch watching Angel reruns and trying to rest.
I willed this illness into existence. I had been daydreaming for weeks about getting sick just so I could have an excuse to stay home and get all the dozens of little projects nagging at me finally done. The dozens of little projects that I never seem to have the time or the energy to complete, or even to start.
The irony of course is that then I do get sick, really sick, home for 6 days and only working half days for another week kind of sick... and I was too sick to get any of those damn projects done. 4 hours at work meant another 4 hours on the couch to recover. The prescription painkillers made me so nauseous I couldn't concentrate on anything. I haven't been that sick in YEARS, not since the last time I had strep throat.
So yes, I got my 2 weeks at home... and gained nothing except this incredible backlog of work. I think I have learned my lesson.
|Thursday, July 26th, 2012|
|Scared of pain
There's some weird cold virus going around that looks like strep throat at the beginning and then settles into low-grade fever, migraine-like headaches and deep severe body aches, then finishes up with sinus drainage and cough. Today I'm right in the middle of the fever/headache/body aches stage, and holy shit. The doctor gave me some samples of celebrex because ibuprofen wasn't touching it. Celebrex! Usually 3 tylenol put me to sleep.
So today even the celebrex isn't even making much difference. There is no comfortable position. I can't sleep. And I'm scared. What if I had to deal with this level of pain long-term? Is this what arthritis feels like? Is this what disc damage feels like? How many people around me have been at this level of pain and had to function here, day in and day out?
I never thought of myself as someone who was scared of pain. After all, I had three babies intentionally with no painkillers. I have chosen no or minimal painkillers in other situations, mostly because I had to be able to care for my kids. But those are all situations with a distinct end in sight. You do this thing and it's painful and it sucks, but the suck is going to end.
This line of thought makes me want to do all sorts of reckless things while I can. This is a dangerous line of thought. I think I'm going to take one of Jim's muscle relaxants and try to sleep.