I hope y'all have a nice holiday, whether celebrating with friends or family. (Hopefully, neither is too traumatizing or uncomfortable. I've had both in the past, and it sucks.)

We had our Turkey Day yesterday. Mom's working today in order to be off for Christmas, which is much more important, being my birthday and all. We were going to cook cornish game hens instead of turkeys since Sis doesn't eat meat, but even after an entire day in the fridge, they hadn't thawed. So we went to plan B - a rotisserie chicken from Kroger. However, when Mom arrived at the store, she found a roasted turkey breast! So we had really damn good turkey, which was unexpected. Then Mom fixed all of our usual sides... sweet stuffing (stove top with sauteed onions, parsley, apple, and craisins, YUM), cauliflower au gratin, long grain and wild rice, and glazed carrots. We normally bake our own pumpkin pie, but we decided to do a Marie Callender's one instead. It was GOOD. All in all, we didn't do much preparing of our own, but it still turned out fabulously.

Since we had all of this fabulous food, I declared yesterday a "who cares how many calories I'm ingesting?" day. I figure one evening like that only on major holidays won't screw me up too much. I still had iced tea with sweetener to drink. And, even though my brain really wanted to overeat, my stomach filled up a lot faster than I thought. Part of me was all, "YOU WANT TO GO EAT MORE" while my body was like, "BUT WE HAVE NO ROOM FOR MORE." Therefore, I was able to resist for the most part. Yay me!

I'm going back to my meal plan today, so I think I'll be okay. My goal is to find my sneakers so I can take a walk around the block this weekend. That should help some.

Okay. Enough about me. Take care everyone, and have a safe and enjoyable holiday.

Also, GO HORNS! We're playing our traditional rivals Texas A&M this evening (7p Central on ESPN). This is our last game before the Big 12 Championship game. I'm hoping that the guys come out and play hard, because A&M has ruined our winning streak several times in the last several years. *crosses fingers and throws up a hook 'em horns on the other hand (what you might know more as the devil horns you use at a rock concert. But UT came up with it first. So there.)*

Thanks to all of y'all for your advice and support about my new mission of eating better. It means a lot. Really.

Last night, Mom, Sis, and I went to dinner and then to see The Men Who Stare at Goats. We decided on TGI Friday's. I figured I would get a salad. Turns out they have a whole section with smaller portions! I ended up getting the petite sirloin with broccoli. I'd been craving steak for WEEKS. The filet was 6 oz instead of the 12 oz on the regular menu. I was pleased. The movie was FANTASTIC. I laughed so hard. George is so cute but can pull off the crazy/weird very well. I love his comedy work. It was weird with Ewan having an American accent, but it was still great. Kevin Spacey and Jeff Bridges were also standouts. GO SEE THIS MOVIE.

UT won yesterday morning 35-3 over Central Florida. YAY! I expected nothing less. The first quarter was so messy. My facebook status was something along the lines of "WTF Longhorns?" However, my boys started to get their shit together late in the 2nd and then looked like the team I love in the second half. I hate that it takes that long for them to really settle in to play. They can't do that when playing in the Big 12 Championship and certainly not in the National Championship game (if we don't lose before then). I'm disappointed that LSU lost, but whadda ya gonna do HEY! [/craig]

The good thing about my new mission to eat better is that Sis has gone through this already. While her thing was to go from eating the no-fat no-sugar things and to just regular food, she is still a good resource for things like helping me work on the compulsive thought processes and helping me figure out how to get Mom on board. To have someone who can empathize with the bingeing is so helpful, because then I don't feel as crazy. To see her in recovery now gives me hope that I can do it.

We went to Walmart last night after the movie to get a few things. Since Mom threw such a hissy fit about my eating the whole bag of potato chips this week, I bought a giant bag of snack-size bags of Lays, Doritos, Cheetos, and Fritos so she has stuff to take to work. And I have a fixed portion to eat if I just HAVE to have some chips. And it wasn't that expensive. I have water, iced tea, and propel in the fridge, and I have been able to avoid drinking the coke, sprite, and gingerale that's in there. Go me! I think as long as I have more healthy options around, I shouldn't be as tempted to binge on unhealthy stuff.

Max slept with me last night. Just like he used to. It was kind of nice, actually. And he seemed to enjoy it immensely.

Oh! Last night, Wanda Sykes' show premiered on FOX at 10pm CST. Funny as hell. But I mainly watched because a good friend from high school is a member of the cast. I'm so proud of him, I can't even say. He's one of the most famous/well known drag queens on Fire Island/Key West. Wanda met him on the island and insisted that he join her show. His stage name is Porsche, and he's fabulous. He looks really pretty as a girl. All of his FI friends were commenting on his facebook page last night about knowing him when he was just doing shows there. I was all, "I knew you when you were just starting to figure out that you wanted to do drag." I know Porsche's last name (which she doesn't use now because she's reached Madonna/Cher status). I know the house he grew up in and love his mother who used to substitute teach at the high school. Anyway, the show was so fucking funny (as long as you're cool with tons of gay jokes). I am amazed that Rupert Murdoch would front the money for a show that is the complete antithesis of what he stands for (and what appears on FOX News). I mean, you have a black lesbian and a drag queen doing all kinds of sex jokes and praising Obama instead of making fun of him. Anyway, y'all should watch - it's Saturdays at 10pm Central.

Before the movie, Mom, Sis and I went to Target to kill some time between dinner and show time. I was trying on pants, and Sis was trying on shirts. We were both being critical of our bodies (Sis refuses to even go clothes shopping unless she's slightly drunk). We decided that shoe shopping is the antidote. Shoes are the refreshing lime wedge to follow the bitter tequila shot of your body image issues. Unfortunately, Sis is currently forbidden to try on shoes by her podiatrist since she's still healing from surgery. However, I tried on every sexy heel I could get my hands on. OMG. There were these flats that were suede on the outside and shearling fur on the inside. THE MOST SOFT AMAZING-FEELING SHOES EVAR. EVAR. If you want cute but comfy shoes, you need these. I am so going back soon to buy some.

Saw the nutritionist yesterday. I don't think she normally works with eating disorders, because as I was talking about trauma and how I coped (and how Sis coped in the completely opposite way) and she seemed totally weirded out. I'm going to be asking her if there's a nutritionist in the Harris County system who DOES do work with ED patients. I'm thinking that this woman mainly works with the poor parents in the area to educate them how to feed their kids well and other stuff like that. I'm seeing a nutritionist in the first place because my triglycerides are in the 400s. That's SERIOUSLY bad. A product of an empty carbs/fast food/crap food diet that's been going on for YEARS. She asked me why I hadn't tried to fix my eating habits earlier. She didn't seem to understand what I was saying... I explained that my focus for the last 10 years has been just staying alive, so doing something beneficial was a low priority. I was in so much emotional pain, and eating made me feel better. I completely didn't care about calories or fat content, because I just cared about stopping the hurt. I also didn't care because the dark, damaged part of me rather wanted me to have a stroke or heart attack so I wouldn't have to do anything more drastic to die. Now that I'm a little more balanced emotionally, and no longer suicidal on a regular basis, I can focus on things to keep me alive, like exercising and eating better. However, she threw so much at me, I have overloaded. She wanted me to reduce both portion size and what I'm eating. Even though I explained that we needed to take this rather slowly or else I would just give up on it entirely. And that's already the case... yesterday, I got nothing but tea and a salad. I ate veggies as snacks. Today? Thus far I've had a double cheeseburger and a large regular coke. I have asked Mom to go to the store with me later so I can get some more healthy things so I have food in the house and not have to feel like I need to go out for fast food. Because having nothing in the house is always my downfall. My other downfall is not having any alternatives to my normal craving foods available. Mom bought sour cream and onion ruffles the other day. I have said on many occasions that a bag of potato chips in the house will ALWAYS disappear, because it's one of my biggest binge foods. And, if Mom wants to have chips, she needs to either buy the snack-size bags (which force me to only eat a small amount instead of the whole back in a sitting), and/or buy me some alternative. Like, she could have bought some baked lays or baked cheetos for me and I would have eaten those instead. Last night, she literally said, "So, I can NEVER have potato chips in the house again?" I really felt like saying, "YES DAMMIT. Not having chips in the house ISN'T THAT MUCH TO ASK." But, instead of getting mad, I calmly explained again about alternatives and snack sizes. Her response was that the snack-size ones are too expensive because you are just paying for packaging. I told her that it was critical for a while until I get to a point where I can be better about portion size. I mean, WTF. She KNOWS this is a problem and needs to listen to me as to how to help me get better. I get really frustrated and hurt when she gets all "you're messing with what I can eat" on me. She made the changes as Sis was recovering from the anorexia/bulemia. Why can't she do the same for me? Once again, it's the problem with being a compulsive overeater/binge eater. You just look fat and lazy, not actually sick, so it's a lot harder to get people to support you in recovery.

Thank GOD I had some therapy. Dialectical Behavioral Therapy has saved my life. Literally. It's a particular therapy approach that focuses on being aware of your feelings and learning how to have a feeling without letting it take over your life. Anyone who suffers from depression and/or anxiety really needs to check this out. Where I used to get so completely pissed at Mom about something, I am now able to stay calm. When she starts to ramp up and freak out, I don't ramp up and freak out with her. We haven't had a real screaming fight since I got about two weeks into the IOP prep group. It's so fabulous.

In other news, Texas is finally actually PLAYING football. The first quarter of this game against Central Florida was so horrid. But things are getting better now. Whew.

Sis moved back upstairs last night after having spent 6 weeks recovering from her first bunion surgery by living in Mom's room. This meant Mom slept on the couch again. She was getting crankier and crankier as time went on. Thank God I didn't engage her in the cranky. Now she has her own room back for a few weeks until Sis has surgery on her other foot. Maybe I can convince Mom to do convert the dining room into a makeshift bedroom for her next time. Just push all of the furniture against the walls, put up an air mattress, and hang some curtains to seal it off. It might help her sleep some. Since Mom is no longer out in the living room all of the time, Max has decided that he needs to climb the stairs to cuddle with me all the time. He used to sleep in my room during the winter when I was a teenager. Max's presence in my room is seriously annoying Fluffy, because she wants to be my cuddle kitty. But she has Sis now, and I think Max has told her so. It's just too funny.

Harris County's pharmacy is pissing me off AGAIN. But what's new, right? So, after trying every SSRI under the SUN to find one that didn't make me crazier, Lexapro was it, and I've proven that when I'm off of it for only 2 days,  I turn into CRAZY!Em. Naturally, this wonder drug is expensive, and Harris County has decided that it won't pay the extra money for it. This forces Mom to now shell out $130/month to keep me sane. Yay. The woman who does all the paperwork for this stuff hasn't gotten back to me about whether or not my doctor can appeal the committee's decision to not get me my drugs, or what the fuck happened to the prescription assistance paperwork I did for Lexapro's manufacturer. Because it'd be a hell of a lot better to get the meds for free/almost free.

I'm also probably going to drop out of the IOP. I had a breakdown on Monday (precipitated by the lack of  Lexapro, but it had been building for a while anyway), and realized that all I was really getting out of IOP was tired. I get up at 5:30 to commute an hour (in good traffic) to sit and listen to other people's problems for four hours, then sit in more traffic for 45 minutes to get home. I find that I'm good at providing feedback to others, but everyone else is so self-absorbed that they are unable to help me out much. So I'm putting in way more that I am getting out at this point. There is one woman who has no self esteem whatsoever and is perfectionistic, yet refuses to do stuff like comb her hair. She's otherwise functional, just batty. And has the most annoying mannerisms EVER. I think what's annoying is that she reminds me of me at about age 12, where all of my self-esteem was externalized, and I was trying to be perfect so people would like me. It took another 15 years, but I finally figured out that perfection was unattainable, and what bitchy Casey said didn't really mean that I sucked as a person. So I tend to want to constantly yell at this woman "YOU"RE 54!! GROW UP ALREADY!!" I spent last Wednesday getting lectured to for an hour by a dietetic student who actually had a full-on Valley Girl accent. I shit you not. She sounded EXACTLY like the girl who does the "Oh My God Becky" dialogue at the beginning of "Baby Got Back." This student was so stupid I would have mocked her, but she was already using the accent I would have used to mock her. There was nowhere else to go with the impression, and that actually frustrated me. She was even smacking her g um. You know, I was so stuck on the living caricature in front of me that I only just stopped to realize something: Do Valley girls even sound that way anymore? And, if so, what was she doing in Texas? She was too young to have grown up during the original Valley Accent Wildfire that spread across America and still has me saying "like" and "dude."

I emailed Dr. Shah (my kick-ass psychiatrist who is still the only person who I think really cares and is doing the job because he wants to, not because he's forced to), and let him know about my missing Lexapro and my feelings about IOP (since he's the medical director for it and was the one who referred me there). I want to know what he thinks before doing anything else.

I'm so headachy due to allergies. Yay!

Okay. Now for something happy/funny to balance all the woe:


What makes this one for me is the "WTF are you doing?" look on the background cat's face.

I can't believe I haven't updated since Oct. 12. Bad Em. BAD.

Basically, my life has consisted of only a few things:
-  Intensive Outpatient Program at the local charity psych hospital. It's Mon/Weds/Fri from 8:30-12:30 in the morning. It's interesting, I'm learning a lot, but it's so emotionally intensive (though the name does warn of that) that I end up really tired afterwards.
-  Driving Sis around since she's still healing from her first of two bunion surgeries. Her right foot looks amazing now. She's finally walking on it without a boot, and doing very well. However, this means I am almost constantly in the car between the 45 min commute to therapy and 45 minutes back and forth to her therapy appointment twice a week, and now we're also adding physical therapy in the afternoons on Monday/Weds. OY.
-  Mom and I ARE GETTING ALONG. It's so freaking unbelievably amazing. It seems that my learning how to regulate my emotions and not provoke her while in therapy has caused her to not react to me as badly. And, when she does start to get upset, I don't tend to get upset with her, so nothing ever escalates. IT"S AMAZING. We haven't fought in weeks.
-  The stress of therapy and driving Sis around, plus the weather, has created a horrible fibromyalgia time. I'm almost constantly in pain, but I'm learning how to push through it. (One of my goals in therapy is to learn how to push through bad times to get what I need to get done, done.)
- My thyroid is also funky. This means even more pain and hot flashes like I'm in menopause. And, naturally, the public health system is so backed up that I can't see an endocrinologist to fix me until mid January. *eyeroll*

Today, I'm home instead of at therapy because of a bunch of stuff -
-I had a migraine all day yesterday, and woke up with its remainder ache.
-There was a huge wreck on the road that I take to therapy and it was going to take over 2 hours just to get to the hospital.
-I was willing to stick it out on the road, but my headache came back full force after having crawled only 5 miles down the road in 30 minutes.
-To top it off, the Starbucks I use didn't have working brew machines, so I couldn't get my usual coffee. I was afraid this was a bad omen, and then I got on the road and found out how long my commute would be. It was TOTALLY a bad omen. I'm going to medicate myself to the gills and hope that I can get Sis to PT this afternoon at 2:30. 

I need to figure out how to get to the hospital using the bus. Today would have been doable if I could have ridden the bus. Grr.

So: in summary...
Good - I'm learning how to function like a normal human being and I'm not fighting with Mom anymore.
Bad - My body hates me and tries to make sure I feel like crap every day. I'm tired as hell all the time.
Good - I have learned how to push through the pain most days like normal people.

Random:
NASA launched its first test Ares rocket the other day. I still think the new system looks like a flying pencil.

I realized I haven't really updated in a while. At one point, I had this whole long post in my head. I've forgotten most of it now. So, instead, I'm going to just hit the highlights:

1. Sis had the first of two surgeries to correct her bunions last Friday (a little over a week ago). The podiatrist that did the procedure is fabulous and did an amazing job. I'm currently the butler/driver for her. In the past, I was always resentful of having to drive her around. This time I'm actually finding it fulfilling to help out. Go figure.

2. I start the intensive outpatient therapy program (IOP) at the hospital on Monday. I will be there M/W/F from 8:30-12:30. Twelve hours of intensive therapy per week. However, the prep group I've been attending twice a week has been most helpful, so I'm rather optimistic about this. And, I figure, if I can do something as intensive as this, I can do just about anything that requires attendance, like school or a job.

3. I'm planning on going back to school soon. Hopefully in spring, but probably in summer. My ultimate goal is the optometry program at U of H. First, though, I have to get my associates and then transfer to U of H for my bachelors. But at least I have a plan and goals now.

4. Mom is still stressed, but we're starting to figure out how to work together without creating havoc. Mainly it's that I'm a lot less excitable when Mom gets upset, thanks to all the therapy I've already done. I've found that now I can just stay calm while Mom has a freak out. It is super-empowering to know that.

5. I'm now addicted to Facebook. I'm getting back in touch with friends I haven't talked to in 10 years or more. That's so fabulous. To know that these people still want to be my friends and keep in contact with me after all of this time warms my heart.

6. So, basically, life is pretty good. That's so nice to be able to say.

We do not have enough money to pay for my LJ as it expires today! I will have to limp along with only a few icons until Friday, when I can pay for it again. If only I had gotten that "You owe LJ your annual pound of flesh" sooner, I could have prevented it. Arg.

In good news, however, group went well today. The girl I thought might not come back did, and seemed to feel better about being there. We helped a girl figure out new coping strategies to help herself not self-harm, and generally shared a bit about ourselves. Thursday will be skills building again. Still, I found out new things about everyone and I found it helpful to me in both the help I got, but also that good feeling of giving help to others. The self-harm chick actually thanked me for all of my help. I told her that I was glad I could and to not give up on herself. 

Bad news was that at the regular clinic I go to, they STILL didn't have all of my medications available for me. This is after I called and talked to Diane the WonderNurse on Friday and had her sniff out the problem and fix it. When I spoke to the pharmacy on Friday they said all of my medications were approved and would be ready to pick up. So, naturally, three of them were only a half-month's supply, though they were still going to charge me $5 per med. I only have $40, and that has to pay for ALL OF THEM. Of course, when the rest of the month was prescribed, they'd charge me another $5. Um, the reason I'm having to GO to the county is BECAUSE I DON'T HAVE MONEY. So charging me $5 per prescription is a lot of money for me. I take 8 different medications. Yeah. That $40 should be paying for LJ, dammit.

So, I have to talk to Dr. Shah tomorrow and tell him to give me several months in advance, and the same with Dr. Asshole when I see him on the 22nd. OH! Get this: I got a call from the pharmacy telling me that Dr. Asshole has prescribed an iron supplement and some levothroid (used to supplement a hypothyroid). This is all well and good, but since *I* haven't seen the bloodwork that's prompting his prescriptions - BECAUSE I'M NOT ALLOWED ACCESS TO MY OWN MEDICAL RECORDS - I ain't taking anything until I approve it first. God, to think that others actually just say "Okay, doc. You prescribed it, I guess it must be good for me!" without ever educating themselves about their diseases and the medications they're on. (BTW, iron supplements make me incredibly nauseated - and I want to check and see exactly how anemic I am before adding more iron than what I'm already taking in my multivitamin. Also, I've been on levothroid before, it gave me hot flashes, made me lose my hair, and other horrible side effects. Which Dr. Torio should ASK BEFORE PRESCRIBING ANYTHING. GAH!! The level of incompetence and potential malpractice at this clinic - minus Diane the wonderNurse - is excruciatingly painful and horribly frustrating.)

Mom and I have since discussed and worked out some of the kinks that led to yesterday's "MY MOM SUCKS ASS" post. Basically, I've let her know that if she wants some time alone, that all she need do is ask, because just closing her door doesn't mean anything as a signal since her door is always closed to keep the cats out. I need her to let me know verbally if I shouldn't come in. And that it's okay to say no to me coming in, or staying, or whatever. Communication and boundaries. Sis and I have worked out a system where I've put a sign up on my door - one side says come in, the other says go away. Easy and effective. Maybe Mom needs something like this. I'll have to ask her.

Lastly, Andrew has figured out that if he runs up the stairs and jumps on the desk chair that is sitting in the corner of the landing, he can spin. And he finds this very very fun. He's so massive that it spins for quite a while before stopping. He's even figured out how to walk around the perimeter to spin it more. He's also not averse to me spinning the chair for him. For being so twitchy about being touched, I would never have guessed he'd like to spin in a desk chair. He's so weird.

can I get a do-over? I seriously hate living with family. With just Mom it was bad, but workable. With Sis living downstairs, it was worse, but still workable. Now that she's upstairs, everything seems to have gone to HELL.

Mom's having issues... her work sucks and is stressing her out. She's the only one bringing in money, and that stresses her out. And, (this was my AHA insight of a few minutes ago) she's turning 60 at the beginning of October. This upsets her in a number of ways (I think): 1) she's 60, 2) she wasn't supposed to be working her ass off at retirement age to support Sis and me, 3) her mother started her serious decline due to Alzheimer's starting in her 60s. That last one she might not even be consciously aware of, but I bet the thought is lurking there somewhere. No matter what, for the past month or so, Mom has been just a raging BITCH with intermittent periods of nice. Like, seriously, she gives me and my mood disorders a run for their money. You never know which Mom you'll walk in on - the one that will listen to you, or the one that will wait for the perfect excuse to scream at you.

She's been ultra-sensitive lately, and coupled with the fact that I've been ultra-sensitive lately, we keep smashing together and creating little black holes. Those CERN guys need to just come hang out at my house for a few days. They wouldn't need the giant collider in Switzerland. Certainly save everyone tons of money... though there might be a problem with getting the detectors through the front door.

She has this frustrating and angering habit of doing something that she knows will trigger a certain response from me. Then, when she gets the response, she acts like I'm the one that overreacted. I said, "fucking" earlier. In our household, fuck and its derivations are part of the lexicon and no one gets all twitchy about it, unless someone says "FUCK YOU." I said, "I already did that on Fucking Thursday!" Somehow this was inexcusable language and she tried to banish me from her room. After about an hour of crying and thinking it through, I realized that she was the one who had overreacted and I really hadn't done anything wrong. 

I'm just glad that I can take a bath tonight and not have to see her at all when she gets home since I'll already be asleep. Even though she has tomorrow off, I'm going to do my best to avoid her. I just don't need her crap, too.

Good: I finally worked up the courage and energy to clean my room.

Bad:  Mom came home in one of her nuclear tizzies because the a/c fan in her car wasn't working and so she was hot. "I"M HAVING HEAT STROKE!!" I came downstairs (the mistake I wish I could take back) to check on what the fuss was. She was asking Sis if she could borrow the other car. I politely asked if she had made sure that while the thing was on a/c, setting 4, outside air, that she also had the windows rolled down, because if the windows aren't down, the air can't be sucked in properly. I mentioned this because I had experimented a lot this morning when I encountered the exact same problem. She started yelling at me that she KNEW how HER car worked, "I"VE BEEN DRIVING IT SINCE THE DAY I WAS BORN!!" She then started lamenting how if she had to use her car, she would be in rush hour traffic and probably die behind the wheel of heat stroke. I mentioned that, actually, she would be heading into the medical center while everyone else was heading out, therefore she probably wouldn't get stuck in non-moving rush hour traffic. I ran upstairs and quickly pulled up the traffic monitoring site and made sure that her route was clear of all problems and moving at posted speeds. "Mom, it should only take you about 45 minutes to get there, since there's no traffic, so you don't have to leave for at least another 30 minutes. Why don't you lie down and get cooled off for a little while?" This was met with hostile bitching about me telling her how to drive, etc. I sat down in the living room while she sucked on some ice (MY SECOND MISTAKE). She then decided to launch into me about money issues. Somehow I'm draining her bank account. This is basically impossible because: 1) when I borrow her debit card to physically use, I ask her permission first which includes a description of what I am getting and how much it will cost, 2) if, for some reason, she can't get ahold of a computer, she authorizes me to transfer funds from her account to mine. This is always only with her permission and with a set dollar amount. She then double-checks that I've done the correct thing when she receives the confirmation e-mail. 3) THERE ISN'T ANY OTHER WAY FOR ME TO USE HER ACCOUNT. I have no idea where she gets this. My favorite part was when she started launching into me about how much food I've been eating and how much it's costing her. When I disagreed with her assessment of the situation, she accused me of arguing with her just to argue. 

Good: I talked to Sis afterwards, and she listened to my feelings. She was especially sympathetic when it came to Mom being so horrible about food. I have an eating disorder. It's a disorder, and a compulsion, and therefore, I don't have much control over it sometimes. I'm trying to do my very best to not eat as much, but it's hard. I tend to binge during the night, after midnight. This has been this way since high school (however, in high school, I was still active enough that I burned off whatever calories I consumed overnight). Sis said she hears me make a bunch of trips up and down the stairs at night. I said that most of the time I'm getting a refill on a drink, or going to the bathroom. I usually don't bring food up everytime I go downstairs. And that Mom has a very skewed view of the situation because for some unknown reason, she never factors in that Sis eats a pretty decent amount, too. So, when a box of brown rice disappears, it's potentially Sis and not me (which actually happened last night). Or, if she sees a package of cheese disappear, she figures I've eaten it all, when a lot has gone to Sis to make food, etc. Sis told me that she would have a talk with Mom for me... since she was once in my shoes (being bulemic, she really understands the binge compulsion), she can explain what's going on with me. And she can hopefully get Mom to realize that telling me how much money she's spending on food only makes it worse and not better. Basically,the more stress I'm feeling, the more likely I am to binge that night. It's like I sometimes have a black hole in my stomach. No matter how much I eat, I just don't feel full. Then, finally, I'll feel full to bursting. It's kind of like doing tequila shots: you can knock back 3 with no problem and no real effect, but the 4th one all of the sudden makes you feel completely drunk off your ass and like throwing up.

Good: I'm going to try and relax a little and clean my room in a while. That way I can sit and art this evening to make myself feel better. Arting always helps. I put on good music and just paint to my heart's content. If only I had the room I'd do so right now. Arg.
 

 

I'm really impressed... the weather is actually really pleasant! It's 12:30 and still in the 80s. It's sunny, not hot, and with a cool breeze. Such a nice day to drive around with the sunroof open (which is what I did when I ran over to Sonic for breakfast).

As I walked out of the house, a squirrel in the oak tree out front started complaining at me. Every time I moved, he would chitter at me. It was so funny. This fall we have to do some gardening... there was a tiny palm plant in the flowerbed out front last year. Now it's a small palm tree. It needs to be transplanted to the backyard. We need to reseed, weed, and generally clean up both front and back. The backyard right now looks more like a jungle than a tiny tiny plot of yard.

We are also talking about getting the hot tub (that came with the house) tuned up - cleaned, balanced, refiled, etc. - so that we can use it. I have read that soaking in a hot tub is great therapy for fibromyalgia. It'd be nice to actually use the damn thing, instead of just listening to it circulate. It's one of those ones that has the LED lights that make the water turn different colors if you so choose.

Now that it's nice outside, Mom and I can start to work on enclosing the porch (where the hot tub is) so that we can let the cats outside. We just could not do it when every afternoon was in the 100s. Now that we are only reaching the low 90s, it's much more doable. Probably next paycheck, when we don't have to pay rent.

I finally found my Spanish workbook! I can learn the rest of the language finally. That will be so useful. I really need to find someone to talk to on a regular basis that will help me learn how to speak as well as I can listen and comprehend. And I need to learn how to speak in another tense than present. That will only get you so far.

I've also decided to start bringing crayons and paper with me when I go to clinics around the county, so that when I end up hanging out with other people's kids, I have something for them to do. I should also hit somewhere like Barnes & Noble for a book that is in both English and Spanish. That would be good to have. I think it's so funny that I've become this child magnet. I've never been a kid person. I just never know what to say and how to talk to them without being either condescending or too old and using too big words. 

I'm only awake right now because for some crazy reason, I have the worst restless legs. I ate, I drank a bunch of gatorade, and nothing helped. Very strange. So I finally gave up on continuing to sleep and got up. I should really stop messing around on the computer and start studying my Spanish, but it's Sunday, and I'm being lazy.

I really need to clean... maybe later. I don't know why I'm writing two-sentence paragraphs, but, whatever. (My mood penguin is super-awake. I really like him... he's cute. Reminds me a little of Opus, but without the sarcasm or Bill. Ah, Bill, I miss you. ACK!)

So, Thursday night, Richard the Landlord decided that it was just ridiculous and he would rent us a motel room for the night so we wouldn't die of heat exhaustion before they could install the new(er) condenser unit Friday morning. I ended up being the only one to go, because Mom didn't feel safe leaving the house open (if we had closed up all the windows, the cats would have passed out), and Sis just... well, I don't remember why Sis didn't go. But I had an appointment in the morning, so I left.

The motel was off I-45, about a 30 minute drive from where we live. We expected that it would be some motel from right around us (since we also live on a highway). Also, a good chunk of that drive was done on a tollway, which ended up costing about $3 just to get there.


It turns out it was one of those low-budget motels that have the big parking lots in the back for the truckers wanting an actual bed to sleep in overnight. I checked in, after waiting behind a couple of guys who were probably nice, but had long-haul written all over them. I got a room on the first floor halfway down the building. At least there was a parking spot for my car right in front of my door. However, the whole place was in serious need of an upgrade. The key was one of those super-old kinds with the plastic card with the holes punched in it, instead of the magnetic ones. The deadbolt on the door didn't really close completely (to my standard at least). Then there was the ice machine. To get to it, I had to leave my room, turn right, then turn right again into this tiny hallway that cut across the building to the other side. The ice machine was buried in a dark corner. I was NOT HAPPY. Then, since this was a crappy budget motel (thanks, Richard, for cheaping out on me) there was absolutely NO PADDING on the bed. None. It was like sleeping on a bumpy floor. All of the linens were bleached within an inch of their lives. Between the not feeling safe, and the fact that the bed found every fibromyalgia point on my body to poke, I slept a total of about 2 hours. I took a shower to get the three days worth of sweat nastiness off and wash my hair. I then left for my appointment.

I had to drive all the way to Humble for my eligibility appointment with Harris County. The clinic was supposed to be on First street. I had the directions from google, which told me that it would be a right turn off the frontage road. I drove past the point I knew the road was supposed to be with no help. Finally, on the trip back south toward my original exit, I saw a sign for the clinic. Turns out First Street isn't marked as First street, but as the numbered state road it also is. Thanks a lot, Humble. (Pronounced Umm-bull, you don't pronounce the "h". Stupid, I know.)

See, their free clinics are only free if you prove that you have little/no income and you live in Harris county. Silly me, since I thought free clinic meant, you know, FREE. But, every appointment so far I've had to pay for (though I've only had to pay $1 - they let you pay what you can, so a token dollar is just fine). I had my first appointment actually scheduled for what I thought was July 28th. Turns out that the woman told me it was the 28th but scheduled it for the 27th. So, when I called to let them know I'd be a little late because of traffic, they said "don't bother, you don't have an appointment today, it was yesterday." So I rescheduled for August 21st at 9am. I drove my next 30 minutes basically skirting Houston Intercontinental Airport the whole time (the gray splotch on the map). I arrived only to realized that in my haste to leave my hot-as-hell house, I left several important documents I needed to prove that I was indeed eligible. I was on the phone with Mom trying to figure out a plan when one of the women called me up to the door. She told me that I didn't have an appointment. It was actually scheduled for Monday at 8am. I was all WTF???? "THIS IS THE SECOND TIME THIS HAS HAPPENED TO ME!!" Mom did mention that it was somewhat of a good thing, since I didn't have my papers all with me. I called the eligibility appointment line and asked to speak to a supervisor. She figured out that what had happened was someone in administration somewhere (she didn't know the person and it wasn't someone in the scheduling department) had accidentally canceled my appointment for Fri 8/21 at 9am. When she tried to put me back in at that time, someone else had already filled the spot. So she put me in the next open place on Monday 8/24 at 8am. However, SHE DIDN'T CALL AND TELL ME SHE FUCKED UP. So I had no idea. I was really pissed. The supervisor woman said she'd fire off an e-mail to her boss who would then email the chick who did the fucking up and tell her that she really made a mess and not to do it again. I was satisfied.

Now I have all of my documents - they need a weird list of items: my driver's license to prove who I am, several bills that come to me to prove I live in Harris County (but I don't get any utility bills, just medical ones, but they said it would count), my passport to prove that I am a citizen, a bank statement showing I have no money, and their "statement of support" form signed by Mom which says that she's been supporting me financially for the past year. I get to do the damn drive again tomorrow morning. I need to charge my FauxPod so I have tunes for the drive. This better fucking work and I better get my damn card tomorrow. I've been told that there are two possibilities for tomorrow: one, the eligibility "counselor" will hand me my "gold card (the golden ticket to free health care in Houston)" right then and there, or the "counselor" could tell me that I will have to wait up to 21 days for my application to be processed and receive my card in the mail. I really hope it's the former, since I really need it... Dr. Shah wants me to start group therapy at the hospital and I need my gold card number so that the clinic can send away for free Lexapro. I was told by the supervisor I spoke with on Friday to tell all of that to the "counselor" to hopefully sway them into giving me the card right away. What's fascinating is that this long, involved, red-tape-filled process was not what I was told it would be. When I had my big freak-out in May, I was told that all I had to do was fill out this one page application and go to one of the eligibility centers Mon-Fri at 7am. I would be seen and handed a gold card (which I first thought was a "goal card" but that was just the woman's poor pronunciation) right then and there. Yeah. Instead, I've now been given two erroneous appointment times, each a month after my initial call. The system is severely overburdened. Mainly by illegals. Which pisses me off, since they don't necessarily pay taxes here. I get singled out wherever I go because I'm white (at the moment, seriously pasty - flounder belly white). I deserve free health care just as much as anyone else, but I get looked at crooked because I'm somehow supposed to be making enough money to get real insurance. It's presumed that I'm somehow cheating the system. I really hate that. I can't wait until insurance companies are forced to take people no matter what. I'm so tired of the phrase "pre-existing condition."



Yesterday and today, I have spent mostly asleep. It was too hot and uncomfortable to get any decent rest since Monday, so I've been catching up. I have had the wildest most vivid dreams. One had most of the cast of Law&Order: SVU in it - unfortunately, no Mariska Hargitay. I can't remember much of any of them now, but they all seemed to be incredibly real. I woke up with that feeling this morning like I wasn't quite sure what stuff had actually happened, and which had been a dream. I thought that the power outage we had was in my head, but I found that it wasn't when my computer was shut down. Very trippy. I'm loving having my comfortable bed back. I missed my four inches of memory foam. So did all of my fibromyalgia sore points. Which reminds me, I have to call and make an appointment to see a GP at one of the clinics so they can refer me to either a pain specialist or a rheumatologist so I can be formally diagnosed with fibromyalgia. I'm going to see if the neurologist I'm seeing Tuesday will do it, but I doubt it. I'm going to try to get him to give me some more injections in my face to keep the headaches at bay. Dunno, though.

Fluffy has been quite pleased that my room is back in service. She's been up here with me most of the time since Friday afternoon. Check out this picture I took of her this morning:

Isn't she adorkable? She tends to sleep with her tongue hanging out like that. Cole has just decided to pay me a visit and is curled up in my lap, purring. Rare treat. However, it's probably just because Sis doesn't have her door open and isn't letting him in.

Again, you get to read a complaint about our a/c. It completely died last night at 3am. I noticed it was rather warm in my room, and texted Mom to please turn down the a/c before she fell asleep (her room's right next to the thermostat). Just afterward, I started feeling warm air blowing and it smelled like something burned, like when you turn on the furnace for the first time in winter and it smells hot for a little while. We checked the temperature reading on the thermostat and it said 79. Inside. At 3 am. Something was very wrong. Especially since it was cooling incredibly well prior to then. I was actually chilly at midnight, which was why it was so noticeable when it stopped being chilly so quickly afterward. This afternoon, it got to an all-time high of 95 inside (which was exactly the outside temperature). I started having symptoms of heat exhaustion bordering on heat stroke. My body temperature was 102 at one point and I had stopped sweating. When I started feeling drunk, I knew it was time to go downstairs and take a very cool bath. Which I did. It was fabulous. I stayed in the tub for over an hour. The water was probably about 70 degrees. Heavenly. I kept wishing that we had a pool in the backyard. I would have just stayed out there all day instead.

At least tomorrow, I will get some time indoors when I go see my psychiatrist and get my meds at the clinic. Naturally, the a/c guy is coming during those two hours. Sis has a hair appointment that she doesn't want to miss. (Believe me, I've already been quite catty about the fact that it is coming down to either me missing my psych appointment or Mom missing some or all of work while she refuses to cancel her haircut. Though she does have a point that she wouldn't know what to tell the guy about the a/c since she's never been around when we've dealt with it before. But she's also not willing to learn. So I'm still irritated.)  Now, it's been decided that Mom's going to miss work tomorrow to deal with this. I'm really mad at Sis for not stepping up.

We're all sleeping downstairs in the living room where we have two major fans going - one oscillating tower fan and a box fan in the window. Mom made a trip to the walmart and bought a window a/c unit. But, naturally, because we needed more problems, it had been opened and returned and so was missing important parts like the directions and the screws. I was so angry. Mom kept doggedly trying to put the thing together, but I was totally afraid that witihout instructions, we wouldn't install it properly and it'd end up falling out of the window onto the patio and breaking instead of working. We've decided to return it and perhaps get a new one if the guy doesn't fix  this well.

I asked God to send some rain our way this afternoon. My prayer was, "Please, Lord, send some of the rain this way, because... FUCK." He didn't send any this way, but I have a feeling it wasn't because I cursed. Sis thinks it's that he had already laid out the rain pattern for the day, and I asked to change it too late in the day.

Hopefully I will have a happy icon tomorrow afternoon.

*obligatory whine about Mom here*

What's interesting about this particular occasion is that I had a dream that she and I would get into one of our usual fights about an hour before the fight happened. Granted, the fight was set in a completely different place, but the basic dynamic of the argument was the same - Mom not listening and cutting off my sentences, me getting progressively louder and angrier as she continues to not listen in an effort to force her to hear me.

So I've been trying to find SOMEONE who will prescribe me some Lexapro. It has been very difficult.

I emailed my godfather (a doctor in Houston) and asked him to write me a scrip for some. He said no. That it was "a violation of Texas law" for him to do so. Which, WHAT? Because, as far as I know, it is no such thing. Doctors can prescribe for ANYONE, except maybe themselves, and then only narcotics are frowned upon. So I'm confused.

Then I called my old pshrink, Dr. H. He didn't answer my message yesterday, so I had to resort to using his emergency voicemail this evening. He called me back, told me he wasn't even supposed to be talking to me because I'm someone else's patient (again, WHAT?) and that he wouldn't do anything for me unless he could see me in his office again.

I had already written off the idea of calling Dad, since he made it damn clear to Mom that the only time I was allowed to call him was if I was going to be "grateful" for... whatever I have no idea what he thinks I'd be GRATEFUL for, from him. The bad genetics that caused me to have the bipolar? No. The abuse that made the bipolar a certainty (without the abuse, it's possible it wouldn't have manifested at all, or not as severely)? Nope. For the abuse in general?? Not that. That he left me with absolutely no support to carry me over until I could line up other help? No. Um... so I have nothing to call him for, I guess.

My current psychiatrist with the County (Dr. Shah) has been completely unreachable since last week. I called his nurse EVERY DAMN DAY (except the weekend) and she promised I would get a call, which I never did. And since the lexapro isn't available through the county, it seemed like another hopeless route.

Mom and I decided that my only real option was to go to the psych ER at the main county hospital to see if they could help. As I was looking up the address to the facility, I saw Dr Shah's picture in the list of facility people. It had his baylor email address (the county hospital is where all of the Baylor Med school people do their work). So I decided to take a chance and e-mail him there. Hell, the email address I use for my GODFATHER is his baylor one. I wrote Dr. S and told him that I had been trying to reach him for DAYS, that the celexa wasn't working at all and would he please write me a scrip for lexapro, would he please fix the neurontin scrip since I got so bitched out by Dr. T's people, and would he be willing to fill out the portion of the prescription assistance form so I can get the lexapro for free? I figured I'd get a reply sometime tomorrow morning. I got an email reply back at 8pm this evening. I KNOW! Anyway, he apologized for not being contactable, sicced the nice nurse manager on his lazy one, and told me to come at 2 so we could figure all of this out. YAY.

My prayers were answered, and it seems like I might just get to have a decent relationship with a doctor with the county after all. You should read the list of stuff in this guy's email signature. It's almost 2 paragraphs' worth of appointments and chairs and deputy-whatevers.

Finally, I can rest knowing that I have SOMEONE with a medical degree willing to help me out. Because it was beginning to look very bleak indeed.

I am vindicated. As I thought, the law in Texas is that you must have personal liability coverage to legally operate a vehicle. The car itself does not have to be insured, nor does your insurance card need to identify the vehicle you are driving. Because to get insurance that listed every vehicle you might possibly drive is just plain stupid - and expensive.

Here's the breakdown of today:
6:00am - I woke up. Well, I was kinda half-awake anyway since I mostly woke up at 5:45. This was after only falling asleep at 11:30ish - what? I felt compelled to watch the new episode of Torchwood (because I'm lame and watching it every day as it appears on BBCAmerica). Then, naturally, I was anxious and it kept me waking up about every 30 minutes from 3 until 4:30. One of those things where I would wake up, turn over, dream, wake up, look at my watch and realize it's only been 20 minutes, turn over, dream again, etc. Repeat ad nauseum for an hour and a half. I didn't actually rise and go downstairs until 6:30. I am a good procrasinator.

7:45am - left the house after a shower. Hoped I was appropriately dressed. I was wearing a half-sleeve button down shirt (that I look very good in), my knee-length khaki skirt (never worn!), black dress sandals, with my pearl earrings and cross. Hair was up in a twist with my curls hanging in the back.

7:50am - in line at Starbucks.

8:00am - waiting for my drink (venti black eye - drip coffee plus 2 shots of espresso - on ice, with a little half&half and 10 sweet n' low).

8:10am - FINALLY leaving the Starbucks and on the way to the precinct where the traffic hearing is.

8:30am - arrived at the little tiny precint office. Harris County Sheriff's office, judge, jail, all in one! Had to park WAY in the back and walk in the heat and humidity about 250 yards in heels to the front door, which was the absolute farthest one from the place I parked. Passed both jail entrances, and the actual court entrance. The judge was not in his parking spot yet. Court starts at 9am.

9:00am - appeared in front of the court clerk as she is the first step in this particular hierarchy (clerk, district attorney, judge, in this case). By this time I was totally overheated because there were TONS of people in the building and the a/c was not doing an adequate job of cooling. I explained to her that I had personal insurance coverage on the date I was pulled over, and was told by the cop that I needed a card that showed the vehicle I was driving, even after I had explained that it wasn't my car. She told me that she didn't know that particular officer, but that I WAS CORRECT and all he did was waste my time. I mentioned that he attempted to humiliate me at the same time by conducting all of our business over his loudspeaker so that the entire McDonald''s could hear what was happening. She said that was really not appropriate. She then asked about the registration... I told her that he still ticketed me for that even when it wasn't my car, and therefore, not my personal financial responsibility. She agreed with me, but since he wrote it on the ticket, she needed to know if it was fixed. Mom had provided me with the confirmation from getting the sticker updated, so that was all good. The clerk dismissed the "failure to maintain financial responsibility" (in other words, I didn't have insurance) since I DID have insurance. She said that the registration violation would have to be dismissed by the district attorney, and that he wouldn't be in the office until Monday morning, but that all I had to do was call after noon on Monday to check to make sure that part was dismissed, too. YES!!

Also, I was overdressed. Everyone else was at least in flip flops and some guys were wearing shorts (which is NOT allowed in court). I was also the only one not in either cropped pants or jeans. I learned from all of my paralegal classes - about 6 years ago - that it is super disrespectful to the court (and to the judge) to appear in anything less than at least business attire. In my outfit today, I actually felt I was pushing it on the casual side.

9:15am - I walked out of the building and almost ran smack into the judge. He was just getting out of his truck. Since I had been smart in noticing his parking space marker on the way in, I said, "Good morning, Your Honor," and smiled. He looked surprised and said, "Oh! Good morning!" I think he was wondering if I was going to be appearing before him or what, and if not, how I knew who he was. Always good to be on the good side of the presiding judge. I learned that from the judge I took Intro to Law from in Austin.

I was back home before 10. I was very pleased that everything went so smoothly. Whew. Load off my mind.

Now I'm just waiting for the movers with Sis's furniture to arrive. Mom left me a note this morning with the paperwork for the court that said, "The kitchen looks FABULOUS. THANK YOU." Made me feel really good. She told me this morning after I returned that she walked in last night and was completely surprised at how much I had been able to do. I do love getting approval from Mom. Especially since Sis pissed on it last night saying that what I had done wasn't what Mom wanted me to do. HAH.

OH!! ALSO: IT"S RAINING!! Thundering, even. However, I'm hoping this will be past by the time they come to move Sis's furniture, because that would be bad. But, for now, it's GOOD.

I have de-trashed my entire room. This is how bad it was: I found pharmacy receipts from MARCH. Yeah. That's really really bad.

I'm going to take a break, rest my back, and knit while watching tv for a while.

Later: organization of books and papers. Then maybe laundry.

Still, PROGRESS.

Craig is amazed and thus screaming. My mother had the same face when I cleaned before. "Who are you and what have you done with Emily?" is what Sis said.

Now, if the energy (and, if I'm being honest with myself, hypomania) lasts for a while, I'll try to tackle some of the many boxes in the kitchen. A surprise for Mom. Though I think cleaning the upstairs landing would be a good start. We'll see how I hold up.

I'm so weirded out that I'm now most energetic in the morning. This is odd since I used to be able to firmly say that I am most effective in the evening/nighttime. Now, I tend to wake up about 8. I think it's left over from having to wake up at about 7 every morning when I was in the hospital. However, my new morning personality clashes with Mom's schedule and Sis's tendency to sleep a lot. Once Mom moves back into her room, then the morning movement won't bother her anymore, which will be GREAT.

Off to make a sammich. Yum.

Just went to the local Dollar Tree - DUDE. So much stuff in there. OMG. I bought 3 plastic baskets, a metal ruler for crafting/painting, some magnets and a magnetic pen for the fridge calendar (Mom, Sis, and I are attempting to keep up with one another's schedules by having a central calendar. Operative word: attempting.). Lots of folders for me to organize all of the medical bills I can't pay, applications for assistance, etc, I have lying randomly about, a tiny notebook for record keeping for the calls I make to Medicaid/SSA/etc., and a small lined notepad for note-jotting. Oh, and a movie-size box of sweettarts. The last is an experiment to see if I can actually trust the food stuffs at the dollar store (or, as my godmother called them, "Everything's a Buck."). Grand total for all of these things: $13. SO AWESOME. If I had bought all of those office supplies at HEB, Walgreens, Office Depot, etc., it would have been more like $30. YAY!! for deals!!

Then I went to Hobby Lobby and got waylaid for a good while by the supervisor in the knitting section. She was definitely a talker and/or slightly manic because DAMN, I couldn't get her to stop talking. I kept trying to back out of the conversation, but she wasn't getting my hints, so I just kinda let her spin herself back down. I did, however, get some really pretty yarn to make into a prayer shawl for the church. At my church, there are only three people currently making prayer shawls. Mom and I have decided to help, which will almost double their staff. Don't worry, those of you waiting still on christmas scarves from years past - I'm collecting all of them and working on a couple of new projects that will get sent out this fall. Seriously this time. I promise. YOu can link back to this post if necessary down the road. I also got some cheap paper mache ornaments to paint for people as presents and a cross to paint for our house. YAY! for crafts!!

Now my goal is to clean up the little pile of trash remaining in the corner. Then, organize my books. Then organize those random papers. Then do my laundry (because everything I own is currently dirty). Then move our painting supplies from the hallway to the closet so they're out of the way of the movers on Thursday. I'll probably help Mom tonight in moving the things around in the kitchen area where her office will be set up - somehow we're getting it cleared out by Thursday so the movers can put them in the kitchen while they're putting Sis's stuff upstairs. I have a feeling we won't get that done by the time it needs to be. I keep trying to figure out other areas of the house we can have them put the bookcases as temporary storage spots until we can finish the clearout of the kitchen. Mom is rejecting all of my ideas. All I know is that she and I can't bring them downstairs ourselves - they're solid wood and HEAVY. We were barely able to lift them enough to move them the 15 feet to the cove on the landing so we could clean out Sis's room.

Oh, yeah. The guys are moving her stuff in Thursday afternoon. Why then? Because Sis didn't think about when Mom had her weekend off when she told the woman she was moving out. Had she extended the thing one or two more weeks, we would have had a full weekend to do the move. Instead, we get Mom's one Thursday off before she has to turn in the key on Sunday. And, naturally, Sis hasn't spent ANY of the past month doing any of the packing herself in the apartment. As usual, she leaves it until the very last minute. Which puts an incredible strain on Mom, and to some extent, me. She was supposed to help Mom clean out part of the kitchen last night (I was going to , but I ended up with a terrible migraine - like, throwing up wishing I was dead, migraine). She didn't. She was supposed to come upstairs and feed the little cats in the bathroom and she didn't. I woke this morning to Bob howling in that way he only does when they're completely out of food or water. They were out of both. Sis didn't come check on them at all last night. I was so pissed. (Abby was also pissed and therefore pissed all over the vinyl flooring in there, so now my room also kinda smells like cat pee.)

Needless to say, I'm spending as much time as humanly possible away from them, but offering my services when I can. The only problem is that Sis is being USELESS. At least I helped weekend before last by spending the whole time re-doing her room for her because she couldn't stand us just deepcleaning the carpet. We do this all for her and she doesn't appreciate it at all. [/sister rant]

But, to make myself happy: CRAFTS!!

Oh, I discovered something last night... I can't watch episodes of Dexter if I know I'll be falling asleep any time soon afterwards. The images creep into my dreams and I get nightmares. However, it's a good show! I don't know how to solve this problem.

Also, I finished The Eight. It was a really good book. A blend of thriller/mystery and historical fiction! YAY! The two main plots wove together seamlessly at the end, and I was very pleased with the ending. I'm interested to read The Fire, which is on order, and the sequel that takes place, like, 30 years after the first book. I will also be hunting down her other two novels, now that I know Katherine Neville's a good author.

I am SO FREAKING BORED. Like, so bored I don't even want to play online solitaire. So bored it's hard for me to do ANYTHING. Even read. And, naturally, the books I ordered on the 3rd didn't get shipped until the 9th (WTF?) so I have to wait a whole week - if i'm LUCKY - for them to arrive. Dammit, why didn't I pay for the express delivery?!? I'm already most of the way through the so-so book I bought at the drugstore because I knew that I had to have something to read for the next several days. Puny 300-page books. (The ones I have been reading are 700-1500pg paperbacks.) I might have to dig out the entire Harry Potter series, not just HBP, which I read a few weeks ago (during a break from the middle of a 1400 page one... I knew there were important scenes, and another 300 pages, to go in the first novel, so I took a couple of days to read HBP so I would know what to expect... and what they cut out).

Speaking of which: Mom agreed to go with me to see HBP. In the theater. I was shocked. Sis went, "Okay... who are you and what did you do with MOM??" I am now in the process of creating a cheat sheet so that Mom has some idea of what's going on in the story before we get there. Because all she knows now is, "So there's this kid who's some kind of warlock and is special and goes to some magic school and stuff happens." That's almost verbatim, people. But, I'm trying not to overwhelm her, and only giving her the cliff's notes version of it. That's easier said than done, however. I think I'm going to keep to the major highlights of the last 5 movies. With some kind of "good guys/bad guys/ ?? guys" cheat sheet. My OCD/manic side wants me to do things like use movie stills for character identification. And somehow rent all 5 movies to take notes on. If y'all can think of things she would absolutely positively HAVE TO KNOW in order to watch the new movie, let me know. I could use y'alls' (I've never figured out how to create the plural possessive of y'all) perspective and input.

You know what I just realized? Depression is TIRING. OMG I feel like I have no energy at all. And, before you ask, yes, I've taken all of my meds. I think this current bout stems from the fact that I'm dealing with the reality of not having any medical insurance (and, if the Bastards won't do it, no car insurance either). It's really really difficult to get free assistance of any kind here in Houston. It's especially disheartening because people keep giving me phone numbers to call and places to talk to saying, "Oh, this will get you stuff the same day, it's really easy, no worries." Then, I actually call the places, and the process is a lot more involved than it should be. I was told that there was a resource that would give me my meds for free with little hassle. Well, it turns out that I have to have an appointment to see someone to determine my eligibility for the program, and the first appointment is on July 27. I run out of meds on the 1st. Cutting it rather close. And, no one at the eligibility center can tell me exactly what the process is to GET the meds once I am eligible for them. Road blocks at every turn. Don't even get me started on how difficult medicaid is, and getting disability through social security is a fucking nightmare.

All of this, plus the stress of Sis moving in and the Bastards not doing anything to help with that (they told her they wouldn't pick up the $160 cost to move her furniture to the house, even though by moving into the house, she saves them $650 a month). It's just too much for me to deal with, and when I get overwhelmed with stress, my body just shuts down. So I feel so damn tired I can sleep 14-18 hours a day. Which isn't good, as I do have phone calls to make and stuff to do, but my body would rather pretend that nothing needs to be done at all.

On the good side, Mom and I finished Sis's room last night (installing the new rug). The rug doesn't cover nearly as much as we thought, but once she gets her furniture in there, the exposed painted!! floor should be mostly covered, and the main empty portion will be carpeted. She didn't look completely thrilled, but she promises that she will deal (under penalty of death, and my singing at the top of my lungs every day next door). It really doesn't look bad at all. The paint is a beautiful dark brown, and the blue rug is not bad with it. At least SOMETHING on that long list is done. And I'm starting not to hurt as bad, which is also good.

I'm thinking about painting some tonight... nothing like painting prayers and inspirational bible verses to lift one's spirit.

The Pizza Hut we usually order from is closed at 9:30pm. What the FUCK people. Not happy at all...

I have so many bruises, most of which I have no idea when/how I got them.

My fibromyalgia has come back with a vengeance. Mainly in my hips, but also in my shoulders. I can't seem to find a comfortable position to sleep in because everything's so tender.

My wrist, while seeming to have healed from the sprain - in other words, it doesn't hurt when I move it that certain way that caused it to hurt before - hurts in other weird places. It seems that using a hammer to jam a flathead screwdriver under nailed down wood is a BAD IDEA if you want to not hurt. Mind you, I did this for the entire room... 44 feet of tack strip, with a nail approximately every 6 inches. You do the math on how much I hammered. It was a lot. Then, there was all the edge painting...

I used a LOT of paint to do the touch ups. There were significant gaps between some of the plywood boards - like 1/2 an inch in places. Whoever built this house, and specifically this room, did a really really shitty job. I ended up having to pour paint into those cracks and then brush them ever so gently - they were filled with sawdust that we couldn't get out with the vacuum. NIGHTMARE.

However, today the room looks really good. The paint color is nice. I just wish the floor looked better. We were expecting that the plywood would be in a lot better shape. There are places where someone used a circular saw to cut other pieces DIRECTLY ON THE PLYWOOD subfloor. IDIOTS.

Hopefully, once we work up enough energy to get the carpet down, it'll look much better and cover most of the crappy wood.

Naturally, though, the threshold thingies that mom bought to seal the transition from carpet to floor are FUCKING HARD TO INSTALL. The first one sat there fine, but it was hell trying to nail it in - the nails kept bending on me. I was able to get three in, which I figured was enough for a threshold to the closet. You are then supposed to snag the carpet on the hooks and use a rubber mallet to flatten the cover part and hold the carpet in place. This did not work at all. The mallet didn't make the thing move even a smidge. And the one for the door to the hallway was cut about 1/8" too long, meaning Mom will have to spend more time using our little keyhole saw to shave the end off. Why is all this so complicated???

I really want to take my right arm off for a while. It's just one big mess of pain from fingers to shoulder. There are muscles that are constantly yelling at me: "WHAT IN GOD'S NAME DID YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING??? WE DON'T DO THAT KIND OF WORK ANYMORE!!!"

One last one: The website I ordered my books from say they have shipped, but since they go through the regular mail, there's no way to track them... I have no idea when they'll arrive, but I'm hoping that it'll be in the next week... I'll finish the one I'm on by then.

In happy news, though: WE GOT RAIN!!!! REALLY REAL RAIN!! It woke me up this morning, and I thought, "what is that noise?" It took me about 2 minutes to figure out that I was hearing rain. How sad is that? Anyway, I knew Mom's been leaving her sunroof and windows cracked because of the heat, so I dashed downstairs and out the front door to make sure her car was closed. Thankfully, it was and all was well. We got about 1/3"!! YAY! Maybe the roaches will stay outside now.

Another happy story: Now that the little cats are ensconced in my bathroom upstairs, everytime I go to the bathroom, I get attention and love from three cats. Abby, in particular, gets really lovey - which is weird for her, since she's usually bitching. Hopefully, once I recover from this last DIY project, Mom and I can get the materials for the porch and we can put that together fast so the littles can move out there. Until then, I have them next door to me, which freaks me out sometimes, as they like to open the cabinets and make them close with a bang. They also play in the tub which is on the other side of the wall.