Will

Day 9



On Day 8 I was apprehensive.Aside from the mass amounts of pain I was in, I just didn't feel as productive in therapy even following a great week.As soon as the door opened to the therapist's office I was nervous, and I haven't felt nervous like that in a while.Especially not about therapy where I feel safe.




I told Rupert that I believe the medicine is working but that I am concerned that it's a placebo.He keeps talking about self fulfilling prophecies and I'm not sure I believe in that concept.However, the doubt and the overthinking was not nearly as intense as it is without the medication.So maybe it is a placebo, does that ultimately matter?And what would upping the dose really do to me?



I still have many questions about being a medicated person.I'm not sure that having these questions isn't a side effect, or just amplified paranoia.



I believe that people need medication.I am on the fence on whether I am one of these people.



I woke up the morning after Halloween with a tremendous amount of back pain.I couldn't even get out of bed.It was my whole lower back and hips and I couldn't hardly walk.I needed help getting dressed and just walking around the house.If I sat somewhere I'd have to sit there a while and getting up was a whole matter, but as I sat the pain would exist on its own in such a stabbing way that I just really lost the will to do anything.I noticed that it also made me anxious, but not as anxious as I have been prior to being medicated.



On my last night doing the route I found a TV on the side of the road and I picked it up because we needed a new one.After that my back was maybe a little stiff but nothing like this, and this was four days later.The best unprofessional explanation we could come up with was a muscle spasm, and some friendly helpful people came through with some muscle relaxers for me to take, and I took the day "off" other than going to therapy.Even then, Willie walked me from the car to the health office and back.



Suckage, because I was just starting to feel like I could do things again.



Energy wise--you know, I'm not an energetic person.I don't ever remember being an energetic person.I

hated soccer when I was a kid, I hated running laps.The kind of activities I did were long walks, climbing, roller skating, and marching band.Being active has never felt good to me, and I was a skinny kid so it's not as if I had something like weight keeping me from being active.



Then again I keep getting this whole "your resting heart rate is really high" shit.



If the medication is calming me down, and I believe it is, even if it's just a matter of clapping my hands ala Peter Pan saying "I believe!" then I believe that the small bits of, maybe not energy, but will have come about because I do not have my brain on worry worry worry.



I will not catch up all at once.But I have found a project that at least has piqued my interest:I am going to tackle the fuck out of this laundry situation.



There is always a laundry situation.But this one was a result of moving.My bedroom is kind of the last place where unpacked boxes are and where it's just like "we'll do something about this laundry tomorrow."We've lived here since July.I know I own more clothes than this.And I miss my skirt collection.I have an amazing skirt collection that was up to something like 40 skirts at last count which was done in the spring.I've lost some since then, but I have gained some as well.But I can never seem to find tops to wear with them.It turns out they're pretty much all in this pile.



I have been fortunate enough to come across some very good finds at my local thrift store lately.The signs say that Jesus forgives you if you break stuff or steal.I go there for the "fill a bag for $5" Thursdays.I have come home with several dresses, skirts, and finally some tops.Look at me with whole outfits.



I even found two knockout can't say no awesome fucking dresses on their $5 rack.As in those clothes are not included in the $5 bag sale, these are sold separately.Two dresses that I was like super lucky to find.



I am proud of my skirts and dresses.Nearly all of what I own is from thrift stores, dumpsters, roadside with a free sign, my ex hoarder neighbor, or the occasional yard sale.I receive a lot of compliments when I go to school, and I am honest about where things came from."Some old lady gave it to me" or "Someone left it in a bag that said free" or I just tell them about the $5 bag sale.



This is not the choice for clothing that everyone would make.I know this.Some people find it disturbing.I know this.For a makeshift Halloween costume I can easily pull off pirate, gypsy, or bag lady, I know this.But I like what I wear and I have fun collecting the things that I like.



My closer friends will say things like "I saw a total Jessie dress in this window the other day," or "Her skirt would look so much better on you."



I have a very unique style that I have adopted that is something like earth mother sexy Buddha.



I know this.



I had tea the other night with someone who has offered me a job.She wanted to meet up so she could sort of vet me on what to expect and some of the things I should mention in the interview that would help.She also talked about the work environment.



She says to me she says "most of the girls in this industry put their hair in a ponytail and don't wear makeup, but not me," she said proudly."I'm a girly girl."



I sat there across from her with my hair in a ponytail and not wearing makeup.



I don't wear makeup though.I never have.Maybe I should try to put my hair down more often, but I don't ever wear makeup.I really don't know how.I've every once in a while tried to dabble in it, but it looks really fake and I feel really fake so I decide not to do it.It's part of just what I do.I am also in love with my greys, and I feel a little bit like each silver strand that wisps across the dashboard or ends up on my keyboard or wrapped around my knitting needles is like the rose under glass in Beauty And The Beast losing its petals.Very memento mori.



I think this is why I like my skirts.I am not make up girly.I am not hair girly.I do not do perfume or lots of jewelery.Skirts and dresses are the things I do that are girly.I don't want to look like a man.And when I became a "housewife" I didn't want to wear sweat pants and men's t-shirts.Back then though I mostly owned shorts and cute shirts.I don't really own shorts anymore, it's all skirts from here on out.



And I am rocking a maxi dress today that came out of a $5 bag that I feel fabulous in.



The lady also told me that they want to hire a 22 year old boy for this position.And that the first thing the office manager asked when my application came in was "is she hot?"



This gives me angst.



She said I was a total knockout.



And now I feel...well, I still feel angsty.Is there any way to get rid of that angst?



So I know I'm not a zombie, because things like this bother me, and I can honestly say "suck it up, it's easy work with high pay," whereas before I'd be thinking of EVERY SINGLE THING that could possibly go wrong and be wrong with this situation.



I still consider things, but I don't dwell on them all nasty like.



I no longer own a dresser, so the half of the clothes that Willie is supposed to put away kind of has no place, so I zip up the pants and socks and underwear and whatever else doesn't have a proper home into large plastic laundry bags.Soon we'll figure out how the bedroom is supposed to be put together.I am thankful that all of this medicine seems to be working, including the muscle relaxers my friends gave me.Though today I woke up with some pain, I don't feel any now for the most part and I can try to get things done.



I am nowhere near perfect, girly, able, or dutiful.I'm also nowhere near the part where I just give up.
Full Post