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2007-03-28 @ 2:16 p.m. |
Okay, so now I have three computer towers and two monitors on my desk and I�m on the verge of recreating that scene in �Close Encounters of a Third Kind� where Richard Dreyfess builds a replica of the Devil�s Tower in the corner of his living room, but he doesn�t quite know why. I mean I have three large computer towers and two huge monitors. I�m already half way there, right? Oy! Its been so annoying. I just don�t know how to transfer the old stuff to the new one. And yes, I�ve Googled the information. Plus the new tower smells like cigar smoke from a Chinese whorehouse or something and its been giving me a headache, so I�ve been spraying it with Febreeze like every 10 minutes. That�s where being isolated and not knowing very many people makes getting help difficult. I�d like to ask �A� for help, because in the old days he probably would have come over and done everything in like 10 minutes, but those were the old days. I remember once he came to my house and put a modem in for me. It was so funny seeing �A�, my shrink, sitting on my bedroom floor, surrounded by hunks of IBM Aptiva. He was kinda humming tunelessly like some geeky computer nerd. He was really in his element. I remember his sole observation about my apartment at the time, was that it was �cool�, which really meant a lot to me. The last couple of days have been somewhat busy. On Friday I went for my yearly physical and fortunately or unfortunately, depending at how you look at it, I was still pretty sick with the sinusitis thing. Sniffling, coughing, fever, fatigue. Did I mention sniffling? I�ve gone through three entire boxes of Kleenex in the last three weeks. So my doctor hooked me up with some new antibiotics, since the old one were apparently useless. And then today, for the first time in....what...TWENTY TWO DAYS, I�m only sniffling out of one side of my nose. Yay! So I think the end is in sight! My physical went okay, although my brain was obviously off in wonderland, since I arrived an hour early. So instead of having to wait the usual 45 minutes for my doctor (she�s perpetually running late), I had to sit and listen to 80�s disco music in my doctor�s reception area for over an hour and a half. And just how many issues of �Pregnancy� magazine can a 49 year old woman read? I did talk to her about my memory problems. They have been significant in recent months. And I worry since my Dad had Alzheimer�s, and I sat down recently to do some multiplication math problems and I couldn�t remember what 9X6 was. I got very worried. Because I have been forgetting things people just told me. I can�t remember the names of the people I worked with for two years at my last job. I can�t remember the password for Diaryland. I screw up appointment times. I can never find my car in parking lots (hint to witty: Its the only one that ISN�T an SUV. Oh, okay). So my doctor gave me this little test. She told me three words. The point was, she would tell me these three words, chat with me for a while and then ask me the three words again in a few minutes. So I was sitting there in my examining nightie repeating these three words over and over in my head, and trying to listen to what she was saying and guess what? I totally flunked the test. I could only remember one word, dagnabbit. So she said that they would do some kind of blood test to see if my brain is still functioning normally. (uh oh!). Of course I do have my theories.... Reasons my brain may not be functioning to its full capacity anymore: Just a theory....(ahem) Anyways, on Monday I went to my old EM-power-Ment group I had created at my old job. This last week I had unloaded this huge amount of anger I had been carrying around with me for like the last month or six. Do you know how much energy it takes to maintain a huge swirling cauldron of anger? Like all the petroleum in the Middle East. And I just don�t have the energy to do it anymore. Its counterproductive. And it was making me talk to myself incessantly. In the shower. In my car. I was even starting to forget to stop talking when I was in public, although �A� and I cleverly surmised I could probably get away with that since you now see people walking around talking into those tiny, ridiculous cellular ear  Anyways, part of my getting over anger thing was to go back to the agency where I am being dropped from this summer. I was very angry at them, but I was also losing the support I got from going to the groups. Talk about shooting yourself in the foot. So after going out apartment hunting with �J� last week, I decided I needed to be around people I knew once again. There was a new guy co-facilitating the group with �J�. Last time I had met him at the art show in October he had been wearing this huge, almost gaudy pentacle necklace and we had been comparing our pentacles and discussing a few Wiccan things. I�m not Wiccan, but I am very open to their ideas. But this time, this guy was wearing this huge cross and during the group he starting talking about God and then looked around and said, �If you don�t believe in God, than you can just insert the word: �Higher Power�. And all I could think was OMG, I wonder if that Jesus Freak who tried to convert me last summer got to him? I mean I totally don�t care who or what anybody believes in. Its a free country. Just don�t try and convert me. So we were talking about healing ourselves and being able to overcome the past, etc. And this guy seemed to think you could just say, �Self, you will no longer remember that so and so molested you 8 million times and then everything will be roses and daisies. And by the way, Jesus loves you�. Talk about unrealistic. You can�t control what is buried deep in your subconscious. I mean I would love to be able to blow a palm full of fairy dust up into the air and say �Be gone� to all the bad things that ever happened to me. It just isn�t possible. The brain is a complex thing. I think what he was really suggesting was �DENIAL�. Sure there are a lot of people who refuse to leave the apparent comfort of their bad memories. I did that for many years until �A� finally started cracking the code. Am I cured? No. Am I better than I was 13 years ago? Definitely. Will I ever be totally cured? Probably not completely, but at least my emotional quality of life has been slowly improving and what more could I ask for, right? Older Entries |
Lyrics by Lennon/McCartney. All angst copyright by awittykitty |
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