Happy Halloween!

I love Halloween. I always have. What is my Why? for today? Why do I watch scary movies, shows, read scary short stories and books when I know I jump at a pin drop. I wish I had an answer for that Why?

Yesterday I had a procedure done and today my neck hurts pretty bad. So I have to take it easy. Even being on the computer is a lot. You use your hand to type all the way up to your shoulder and neck if you really pay attention. Plus you have to remember to keep your head straight or else even normally your neck and shoulders will get stiff and hurt.

Everything I did seemed to be cursed today. I Did not eat on time, did not catch up on any mail, could not figure out my facebook account and what is going on there, I forgot to drink my coffee, forgot to get back to some of my friends, tried fiddling with uploading pictures, and the list goes on. A lot of stuff not earth ahattering but important to me and things I wanted to catch up on. I was very distracted today. All I wanted to do was have a spooky Halloween. I started off by watching the first episode of Sleepy Hollow (LOVED IT!! Adding that to things I like on television now that do not suck. In this category is American Horror Story-Asylum and Bates Motel), with the intention of watching maybe another episode, or start watching American Horror Story - The Coven.

My other big plans for today included reading some horror novels I started, and some horror short stories I got for free on Amazon. But first on the list, after Sleepy Hollow, was a particular short story. And not just any short story but one by my friend and author Evans Light. You can find it here

https://www.goodreads.com/author_blog_posts/5130075-candie-apple-a-free-halloween-tale-by-evans-light

If you know Evans work at all, you will know why I was so excited to read it.

So I mute the television, get comfortable in the rocking chair, and start reading. Maybe, well it was still light out, Around 4:30? I pulled the clock out to plug in my laptop.

So picture if you will....

I have been waiting all day to read Evans short story but, as I mentioned, got sidetracked. It was light out when I stated reading. My neck hurt so I iced it, and it was a muggy 66 here today so I put the air conditioner on. I was sitting her reading the story, loving the story, freezing cold partially from the air conditioning, partially from the story, and just as the family in the story walked outside to trick or treat, a knock on my front door! (Read the story to know why that part made what you are about to read occur.

I jump about 40 feet in the air, look up, heart pounding,and it is pitch black out all of the sudden. I am almost afraid to open the door. Tony is at work I am alone. But I do it is just cute kids trick or treating.

And do I feel stupid? YES! I still have not finished the story. I have a funny feeling when I get to the end or to the next scary part, someone will be knocking on my door again.

I do not think you can get anymore Halloween than what happened! Well, I wanted a fun day - I got one!

Bur to answer my original question, why do I read and watch scary things when, in all reality not much scares me. The more gore the better. But I guess on some level it does because I either have nightmares, or sometimes I am reading and my husband has come in the room and I do not notice, he taps me or starts talking and I jump the same 40 feet I did while reading the short story today. I guess, since I am terrified of roller coasters, this is my adrenaline rush. That is my explanation.

I grew up on Steven King. I started reading his books in 8th grade. Maybe 7th. I love all horror movies. And, most recently - Bates Motel, Sleepy Hollow, and American Horror Story -Asylum have become my new favorite shows, as I mentioned above. But I guess on some level we all have things we are scared of. Maybe this is a trigger for something deeper who knows? I know that, real terror, is when I went with my husband to pick up some paperwork at his job. He is a Senior Corrections Officer in a State Prison. Where the worst of the worst go. As we walked up the walkway to the door, I was terrified. I did not say anything. Then I was in what they call the Inside Outside door. There is nothing there but a small kind of, headquarters. I think there was one guard. Nothing to even see to be scared of. And the place still terrified me. I could not leave fast enough. I remember driving past it before he worked there, with my mom, or God Forbid, by myself, and thinking someone was escaping at that moment and would run across the street as I sat at the red light and somehow force me to drive him somewhere and kill me. Truth be told I think they have only had one or two escapes over a long period of time. But the idea of what bits and pieces my husband shares about what crimes have been committed (and I am sworn to secrecy), plus, as a Psychiatric Nurse knowing about sociopaths, etc, it makes for some real life horror.

All I can say is I am glad I have a dog. And glad my husband will be home in 2 hours and 20 minutes. But who is counting?

Why Did I Hurt Her?

What is wrong with me? Why did I hurt her.

So amazing.

So talented.

So beautiful.

It hurts so bad, just like it does when I hurt someone close to me. Or when I constantly get my teeth kicked in. Things from years ago still eat at me, even though they are long forgotten and very forgiven. It is physically as well as psychologically painful. It burns and stings inside. I wish there was a pill to make it go away.

I am not a bad person.

I go out of my way for strangers, but the people close to me, for some reason, I hurt. I guess I figure they will understand because they know me and my quirks.

I get distracted so easily! Why? This is frustrating. Part of my problem. Part of many problems.

I wish I could talk to her face to face. She does not know what her friendship means to me. She does not know I think of her a few times a day if not more. She does not know I have told her things I never told anyone. I love her like a sister (one that you do not fight with!).

What are the words to use? To say you are sorry. Sorry never seems to cut it.

I tried to use my words. But they got erased. Maybe they were not meant to be seen. As sincere as they were.

I am sad to the point of being sick. I do not know where I stand now. It is driving me crazy. I cannot relax because I feel like something came crashing down and I am trying to pick up all of the pieces and put it back together.

If this was a broken vase, I would take it to a professional and not glue it together myself. But it is a friendship and such a special one.

I can only hope that she asks herself why? Maybe she can ask herself why I act like I do? Maybe she will not like the answer. But then maybe she will ask herself why I write to her everyday, a lot of time more than once a day, send her links to things I know she likes, read her blog, give her advice, etc.

Because she is such a great friend. Such an amazing person and I do not have to ask why she is so important to me.

Suffering

I found this quote in a book I am reading and it fit so perfect. It not only reflects what Susannah Cahalan has been through, and observed, but what I have been through, and observed as a patient many many times over, a patient with many illnesses, disabilities, and doctors. And I ask why? What happened? I know most of the answer and I do not like it.

From "Brain on Fire-My Month of Madness" by Susannah Cahalan "While he may be an excellent doctor in many respects, Dr. Bailey is also, in some ways, a perfect example of what is wrong with medicine. I was just a number to him (and if he saw thirty-five patients a day, as he told me, that means I was one of a very large number). He is a by-product of a defective system that forces neurologists to spend five minutes with X number of patients a day to maintain their bottom line. It's a bad system. Dr. Bailey is not the exception to the rule. He is the rule"

Why do doctor's always ask "How are you today?" I have looked like death warmed over and they still ask that very ridiculous question. If I was doing okay, I would not be there first of all. I have been in your waiting room way longer than should be expected. But even when I get in to see the doctor right away, because I do not say anything, because I scream in my head what I really want to say, because I was brought up to be polite, I always say "fine".

Sometimes I say "Cruddy", sometimes I say "Bad today", sometimes I say "I am in a lot of pain". It is funny how mostly, although I have been seeing a lot of these doctors for years, their answer is always the same. Nothing. Just utter silence. Sometimes on a bad day, they will entice me by asking "Not good - why?" Seriously. Why? If I knew, I would not be here. And we are not going to figure out why today because I have been seeing you for x amount of years.

I would need a whole other blog to explain what is wrong with me (nothing that you can tell from by just looking at me). But I think I need to get some new doctors or start using the voice in my head. Maybe cut down on the swearing, but say out loud how I feel. Did you ever notice the loudest most obnoxious patient in the ER, or on the unit, gets the most attention? I have often, after being ignored, asked my husband "Do I have to act crazy or yell and scream before someone comes to help me?" He always assures me this is not the solution. I very often think it is.

Last night at 6p I was drained and tired. I slept until 10pm (my body seems to instinctively know when my husband comes home from work). Then it was three am and I was getting a migraine. Well guess what? The doctor, despite my improvement on this medication, cut it just the other day. Cut my migraine medication. And did not tell me how to dose down. I guess he figured I am the RN I will figure it out. So as my head throbbed and I felt nauseous at 3am, I took some medicine to help. I started to feel better. I fell asleep around 6am. I was up by 9am. Why? My head is literally killing me. I cannot get anything done or enjoy many things in general. I had plans today.

If I had just been more forceful and asked my doctor "why?" as in why are you cutting my medication, maybe things would be different this morning. I am calling him Monday.

But yes, all the doctors are always busy. The want you in and out. Cram as many in as you can to make money. This is why I choose when I can, Yoga, Reiki, Acupuncture, etc.

I am much much better than I used to be, but I keep suffering.

Why?

Why Can't I Scream?

I go for acupuncture and I am relaxed.

Right after, Dr. A-hole comes out and says I have to sit and get a new prescription for my acupuncture. I cannot stand this man. He has not one once of empathy, certainly no sympathy, no anything. I tell him, because he never listens, that I have to be out at a certain time. Like I have told him 100 times before. He said what he always says "This will just be a few minutes"

I have had it.

I say loudly "WHAT TIME IS IN NOW?!" as I stand and refuse to sit as he has gestured me to.

He looks at his watch and says "Five after one"

I say to him I have time.

I sit and read my book.

I go into the doctor.

"How are you doing?" he asks.

I scream inside my head. I have answered this question a million times for most of my life. Especially the last 14 years. I want to tell him I fell like hell, I want the medicine I want not what they want to give me, I want to go home and sleep and not wake up, I want to not be here in this office, I want him to wipe that smile off his face.

But I smile and say "Not bad"

We talk a bit about what is going on with me. Routine. I do not feel any better when I leave. Shocker. He was very nice to me once. At least he is not Dr. A-hole.

So I get out in time.

My husband is waiting.

We come home. I have two books I won in a contest waiting for me. YIPPEE! A bright spot in the day. One funny book, one serious one. One I seriously may give to someone I consider my best friend. She would appreciate the serious book more than me. It is a hardcover. Nice job!

Then HE starts talking.

As he talks about me, the mortgage, the bills, the dog, the house, etc I am screaming again in my head, in my mind "SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!!! DON'T YOU THINK I KNOW ALL THIS! DON'T YOU KNOW THE GUILT I HAVE EVERYDAY BECAUSE THIS IS ALL MY FAULT?! STOP TALKING! YOU SOUND LIKE A BROKEN RECORD!!"

I love this man. More than myself. I want to make him feel better after he is done talking about why he is out of sorts but anything I say is falling on deaf ears.

It is okay. He keeps talking and I keep tuning out. I am listening just enough to answer him.

Then he says he just wants it to all be okay and, he is on the stairs, one step below me on the staircase, and he leans his head into my chest and lets out a deep breath. I crumble. I want to cry but I cannot. I never do in front of him. I do what he loves the most. I stroke his head and tell him it is going to be okay and say nothing for what seems like an eternity.

I think I wish I had a magic potion that would help him get out of his funk. I try to explain negative thoughts draw negative events and negative energy, but he does not believe in such things. He said he thinks positive and gets kicked in the teeth. That breaks my heart in a million pieces.

He finally, dressed for work in his CO uniform, looking so handsome, as always, he looks up at me with tired eyes. I tell him to make sure he has a good cup of coffee at work, and to have a great day and enjoy the office he always wanted and now has. He said he would. Our lips touch and it feels good. If that kiss would talk it may have said "Okay, there is still something here. A bond that will never break. We have been through worse, I love you."

No more bad talk, no more lectures, he goes down the staircase and I, as I do everyday, listen for the side door to shut. I listen for the old Ford Taurus to start, pull out of the driveway, and down the street.

I am still holding the dog, who, I found out, while I was at acupuncture, cried the whole time. He is very sensitive and feels the tension in the house. I am standing in the hallway while I was tuning out my husband, in plain site of the dog and he was crying. I had to turn around and go pick his little 6 pound body off the bed and hold him like a baby.

So when the car turns the corner, I nuzzle into the dog. I tell him "We are going to have a good day!" and kiss him and place him back on the bed.

Am overwhelming feeling of sleepiness comes over me. I cannot take the silence. I never could but that is a whole other story. I immediately hate the deafening silence and turn on American Dad. Like I do everyday at this time.

I open my packages which contain the books I have won. One funny one and one serious one. I may seriously give the serious one to my best friend. I think she would appreciate it. I have to read and review it. Those are not the hard and fast rules, but common courtesy. Why did I enter the contest if I was not very interested in the book? Because I have never said no to a book. There have only been three in my life I have not been able to finish. I believe with my whole heart that we can always learn something from somewhere. So I will have to read the serious book but I would like to give it to my friend to have.

I see how much mail I have. Email, messages on sites, etc. My friends. New and old. What would I do without them? One particular message is very interesting and makes me smile. I decide I have to get this poison out of me. I reply to my friend, and decide to read. I am nauseous.

I start to feel overwhelmed. But I have eight hours to get something done.

I am pushing down the feelings of everything being all my fault and that will never change. The past cannot be forgotten by some people.

I think of all the positive things I can do today to make it better.

I honestly believe having the idea of the glass half full is essential to happiness and sanity. My glass is always all the way full. I believe in the energy of the universe. I believe in Karma. I believe in putting out positive energy to get back positive. And the same goes for negative energy.

If there was one question I would like answered is, how can someone so positive as myself, be with someone so negative as my husband. He is not a bad man. He is one of the good ones. But then again a lot of the negative thinking has come from his job and from things that have happened over the years. But can't he try harder? I do not have words anymore. He has his own way of thinking and it is pretty impossible to tear down that wall. Unlike myself who changes at will. I ebb and flow with the moon and tide.

I have to get these bad thoughts out of my mind.

With Spongebob Squarepants on in the background, the dog asleep at my feet, and the promise of rest and reading and talking to friends (mom already made her daily call), I begin my day. My job of taking care of the house, holding it together, and holding myself together.

So many questions

Why now? Why here? Why me? Why is she telling me to come? Why is he asking me stupid questions? Why is she not the same? Why does he still love me? Why can't I do anything right? Why am I hungry? Why is it nice out? Why am I sitting here when I have someplace to be? Why the bad luck/good luck streak? Why is he so upset? Why is she such a nag? Why is she a whore? Why does it have to be 15? or 5? Just because

To Start

Who, What, Where, When, How, and Why?

I choose WHY