Yeah. I thought writing would be a good idea because it often helps me process. So does talking to grown-ups, but that only happens in short bursts. Short, completely necessary bursts that make me remember I was once human more so than reinforce it. But there is so much to untangle and decompress, trying to write a blog seems shallow. Not useless but almost more trouble than it's worth. Gah, almost except this is probably better than obsessing over whether or not I should be peeling carrots, or guilt-tripping myself over not getting grapes into the dehydrators RIGHT THIS SECOND.
I miss music so bad. I want to go sing with my once and future *fingers crosses* recording buddies who also occasionally save my sanity. I don't care if we get anything recorded kind of ever actually, I just might die without music is all. Specific music with people who are hard to find, I don't know why it's that way. Damn the grapes creeping into my existence, why is it always grapes?!
The existence is essentially broken into a few categories:
1. Feeding Sasha
2. Staying alive
3. Parenting
4. Everything else
Feeding Sasha is paramount because of course if I don't, she'll die. I have no interest in planning a tiny funeral so, that wins. And it takes a disproportionately gross amount of time and energy. I have no idea how to wedge music in there, I don't think it's possible right now. Damn. But the great is (not news, just great) I'm not planning ways to kill us daily. I do feel like I'm cracking again tho.
Because it's not just grapes, it's the mystery spots that Sash woke up with on the day we were going to trail duck eggs. Kid's only been living without a daily migraine for a few weeks, not even months, and I'm way on edge about every errant spot. Everything is second-guessed, and I'm bummed about losing any perceived "safe" food either by spoilage or reaction. I can't figure the source of the spots so we trial the duck eggs anyway, and she goes to bed with some bumps on her belly which may or may not have been there this morning. It could be so much worse, I know. She could be anaphylactic, we could know that we only have 4 or 5 or 2 safe foods, we could be living at a hospital...*deep breaths*
But omg, this quest for sanity, peace, it seems futile. Music? Impossible, laughable. Why was I writing again? Yes, to remind me to put the **%&$*^( grapes in the dehydrator. Because it's Wednesday, and I get more grapes on Friday and grapes stop coming in soon and we only get what I can process in time. I hope it wasn't the raisins that gave her spots because I will scream. I'm hungry. Maybe if I figure out how to go play music Sasha won't die. We'll see how these eggs work out. In reality I can't imagine going anywhere, ever. Not with an increasingly sensitive corn allergic, whose big sister is the easy allergy kid, being only anaphylactic to all nuts plus a few bonus fruits.
As always, I feel like this would be so much more manageable if I could just get past migraine. Migraine isn't helpful for thinking straight and neither are all the damn meds. Although the numbers would suggest I'm getting better, so maybe that's why I quit contemplating murder/suicide? I'm still marching down the scale in rescue med days per month, although August and September were flipped. May was 19, June 18, July 17, August 15, September 16, and so far I have 10 in October. I'm accomplishing more, less suicidal, and feeling tortured as ever Oh Shit I remember! See, this is why I write, for revelations sake. As I feel better, I remember what it's like to be human, and things start to bother me more, like the never-ending crap-clutter around me. I'm must really be starting to feel better, because now I'm seeing the reality, which of course is better and also sucks immensely.
Ok so that's better. It's overall good! I knew the numbers couldn't be wrong. I'm starting to surface from beneath the darkest, heaviest rot of constant migraine, and realizing the magnitude of our situation. Whereas before it was head down and just go and hope something works, now that things are working I'm trying to make up for lost time and lack of direction. Which is probably not best idea. Balance, presence... *deeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep breath*...f**k off, grapes. Lord, but it's weird life we lead. I'm so glad we had this conversation. Thanks for hanging with everyone, both of you.
Oh gosh, so what now? Hm. I'm really glad that I actually am feeling better, even though it doesn't feel like it. Except now that I figured out I really am, I'll just remind myself instead of wanting to break everything. So glad this all TOTALLY makes sense. (; Holy crap, the tomatoes are still in the dehydrator, I hope they're not powder...
