today

today

today is one of those days. one of those days i can't get the radio loud enough. can't get my car going fast enough. one of those days i just can't stand the thought of eating anything. it's one of those days i feel everything is spinning too fast. i can't slow it down. i can't stop it. i can't control anything at all. except.

that's just it:

except food.

that's 100% in the scope of what i can control. what i do (or in the case of today) do not eat. that's something that i actually have influence over.

i'm pretending again. that i'm ok. that i am tough. but not really. i'm not that way at all.

& right now i wish i could be vulnerable & really let someone know. but i can't. so i sit.

at work.

silent tears cutting down my cheeks.

my voice on the other end of the phone not nearly as cheery as normal. but close.

no hint of the dark gray spots caused by fallen tears on my hoodie.
no hint that inside i'm shredded to bits smaller than grains of sand.
no hint at all that i'm sitting in my fish bowl of a desk starving.

chatter around me of diets & golf & weddings. evidently the crane in the pond caught a fish. & i sit, one leg tucked up under me, crying. careful. so no one will hear. no one will see.

32 years ago

32 years ago at this exact moment my mom was in a hospital in the middle of nowhere north dakota waiting for the doctors to induce her so that i could make my glorious entrance into the world. unfortunately for me, there were two other babies that had the audacity to be born on june 13th 1977. so the docs pushed my mom off til the 14th. then another two babies decided they wanted to show. in the end i was finally born on june 15th. 8 days past my forecasted due date, two days later than the scheduled induced birth, & six days before my father's 29th birthday.

that's where i was/what i was doing 32 years ago. so what about for the past two months? i've been sick. i've been struggling. i've been secluding myself. work has been hell on earth. don't get me wrong, i'm happy to have a job. & i'm happy that i have a job that has SOME flexibility so that i can make it to my therapy appointments & my other appointments. for instance this past week i had a total of 6 appointments (2 acupuncture, 2 different nutritionists, a psychiatrist, & a psychologist). yup, i have a whole fucking team of people trying to keep me healthy. er. healthy enough.

my birthday is just 25 hours & some change away. well, that'll be when june 15th dawns here in minnesota. i was actually born just after 7pm, so it's nearly 44hrs until the actual time of my birth in the year the king died (yeah, an elvis reference). i want to keep secluding, but i know it serves no purpose. & i need to write in order to get better. i've been trying very hard to get better. each day i wake up telling myself today i will be in control instead of my eating disorder.

back in april i hit a new low. on the day of my uncle joe's funeral i was so sick that i was unable to attend the funeral. i was at work & getting ready to leave to go to the funeral & i was so dizzy & off balance i couldn't walk without holding onto the wall. it was like i was drunk i was so dehydrated/malnourished. jenn found me at the elevator & took me back to her cube where i called my mom & cried while trying not to draw attention to myself & told her i was too sick to drive to st. paul for the funeral. jenn & another person from work drove me & my car home. i crawled into bed so weak i couldn't even drink water without spilling on myself. & i cried. too petrified to sleep because i was very afraid that if i closed my eyes & fell asleep it would be the last time my eyes were open. in hindsight i should have called 911 & gone to the hospital. or i should have at the very least had a friend with me at my place. i should not have been alone when i was that sick. i really am hoping that is my rock bottom.

how can i not be smarter than my eating disorder? today i was at 4:30pm mass with my mom & i kept staring up at the crucifix over the alter counting the ribs on the figure of jesus on the cross. & wondering why depictions of jesus are always so thin with ribs & joints sticking out. is that the ideal? & even as i type this i'm remembering just a few hours ago when my mom was saying good bye to me & she touched my left wrist as if she was afraid she'd break bones if she applied too much pressure. when i asked her what was wrong she said my wrists are so tiny. & i know there were tears hiding in her brown eyes. tears that she let drop as i shifted from 1st to 2nd & so on as i guided my saturn west from st. paul to plymouth.

today i told my grandma i'm in therapy & dealing with an eating disorder. she hasn't seen me at my sickest so i think it's hard for her to deal with this. she asked me "which one" that i had: anorexia or bulimia (cause those are the only two eating disorders out there. . . .yeah, i'm a bit bitter about that one. not at my grandma specifically, but because that's the most common question i get asked).

i want to write more now, but i'm so tired i can barely keep my eyes open. i think i'll have to log off for now.

update on my uncle joe

hey all. my uncle joe passed away sunday morning. i'll be honest, with all the other stuff going on in my life i don't know how to feel. i haven't cried at all & i don't know if i will. i was not particularly close to him. my dad was close to him & my brother knew him better than i did. however. i'm sad/upset on behalf of my dad & my uncle john. but, i'm relieved for joe. from what i read on his caring bridge site his last days were not quality days. & for someone who was a very active & vibrant person that's pretty much hell on earth. so i'm strangely happy that he is no longer suffering.

last week when i was told that things were pretty bleak & it was near the end i had briefly considered driving to st. paul & going to visit him with my dad. but then i thought about it. & the strongest memories i have of my grandpa are the ones in the last moments of his life as he lay in the hospital bed not even remembering my grandmother anymore. i'll get into it another time, but they really did have a beautiful love story & she was his whole world. & in the end he looked at her with unknowing eyes. & that memory pushes out others when i try to think of him. it takes more effort to remember him smoking his pipe & playing solitaire. or sitting in his chair watching football on thanksgiving. or all those other little things that are now fuzzy for me.

i decided that i'd keep that last good memory of my uncle joe. when we all went out for dinner this past summer out on west 7th. & my mom borrowed my pink floyd zip up hoodie because she was cold. & i sat next to my aunt sharon wishing that she & my uncle john lived closer. & watching how happy my dad was to be with his oldest friends. & seeing something in him that i rarely see, a pure joy & genuine smile in his eyes. & joe's booming laugh & handle bar mustache. & the conversation that rolled around cars & engines & so many things that didn't interest me, but i was glad to be there. THAT is my last memory of my uncle. & that is what i'll forever keep with me. my dad & his brothers. having dinner on a random summer weeknight on west 7th. old friends. old stomping grounds. & love. that's what was there.

today is the wake with the funeral tomorrow. it looks like the sun may actually appear today for the first time this week. maybe that's fitting that we see the sun today. i hope it's out tomorrow for the internment.

perspective

my life, my struggles, & my issues have just been shoved into stark perspective for me today. today i got an email from my mom saying that my uncle joe is really sick, the cancer is winning, & he probably doesn't have much longer. i don't even know how to react to it, in a way i'm just kind of numb. obviously i'm sad & i've cried. i've cried today at work while thinking about it. i'm not as close to him as i'd like to be. i'm closer with my uncle john who is also my god father.

quick interjection: joe & john are not biologically related to me. their family took my father in after my grandfather died. the carusos basically raised my dad, called him one of their own, & treated him as one of their own; it was an unofficial adoption basically. i was raised with joe & john as my uncles. their parents as my grandma & grandpa caruso. & it never occurred to me that we had no blood relation, that they had just "adopted" my father & raised him from the time he was 13 & on.

even though john lives in north dakota i'm closer to him than joe. maybe because my dad is closer to john. maybe because john is my god father. maybe because somewhere in my memories i still hold onto the three years i spent in north dakota where he & sharon & jason (my cousin) were my closest family besides my parents. but while i'm closer to john, my uncle joe is someone that i really enjoy having in my life.

he's the kind of a guy that there aren't many around anymore. not saying it's good or bad, just is. he still lives over in the "old neighborhood" where they all grew up in the west 7th area of st. paul. he restores old cars & rides a motorcycle. he has a deep, gruff, gravely voice. his laugh reminds me of santa. if santa was a smoker. besides john he's my dad's oldest friend. not many people hang onto friends that long. my dad'll be 61 in june. he's known the carusos for so much of his life he probably doesn't remember a time without them. i know that i don't have any friends like that. i have some that are close, but not quite.

my uncle joe's time is being counted down now. if each life has a certain number of grains of sand his is almost empty. my dad tried calling his house earlier today & there wasn't any answer. joe may be on his way to the hospital again. my uncle john is stuck in north dakota because of the flooding & now snow that has pretty much shut the state down & isolated them. i'm stuck in limbo just waiting to hear something from someone. i really hope my dad gets to see joe one more time. i know that no one wants their last memory of someone to be when they're sick. but i also think it's important to get another chance to tell someone how much they matter in your life.

for me, one of the last times i saw joe was this past summer at a restaurant down on west 7th. i think it was this past summer. i was there with my parents, my uncle john & aunt sharon, & my brother. it was an italian restaurant & this was after my surgery so i didn't eat much, i only had a small salad. & i couldn't stay long. i don't remember now why i had to rush off. in hindsight it must not have been that important, the reason i couldn't stay. but it seemed like it at the time. but we had a good time, all of us talking & laughing. & it's always so bizarre for me to see this side of my dad, when he gets together with joe & john & they talk about the old times & the old neighborhood & all these stories bubble up about my dad, his childhood, his antics, all these things that i never even knew about. things i never even suspected.

the time i remember before that is at my grandma caruso's funeral. uncle joe was wearing a suit, which is much different than what he usually wears---jeans & a leather jacket is what i always remember. & i read a poem at the service that i wrote for my grandma caruso. & i met his daughter for the first time that i could remember. & her kids. & i had to leave the funeral early to go to a friend's wedding. & on that day i found out that my best friend tina's grandma died. may 13 2007 was one hell of a day, really.

here's some pictures of my uncle joe. i pulled them from his caring bridge website (which is linked above in the first paragraph). i'll update as i find out more. in the mean time, i'm sending lots of love & energy & healing into the universe for my uncle joe, my uncle john, & everyone that loves joe.

pscyh update?

yeah yeah yeah, i've been avoiding it, but i know i need to update what's going on with the psych eval that i had friday. the dr was really nice. can't recall his name for the life of me, i think his first name was peter, so yeah, we'll go with peter. i'll be seeing him again in a few weeks. when i got there he asked me why i was there & i was point blank honest with him & said that my therapist & regular doctor think i'm depressed & should consider meds & so i made the appointment to appease them. i'm not sure if people are usually that blunt with him, but he definitely seemed taken aback by that. i mean, i guess on some level i was there because i figured it'd be best for me, but that was the main reason i was there, so why lie about it?

i've been seeing anne & amy for so long now that it was weird having to start back at square 0 & tell someone all about me & my problems. & an hour is definitely not enough. did i cry? yeah, i did. but, i had some pretty heavy BS go down the night before with my family, so it's kind of amazing that i even showed up to the appointment & then work afterwards. so he asked me some questions & i did a lot of talking. A LOT.

in the end even though i told him that no i don't feel i'm depressed he said that he thinks i meet the criteria for being clinically depressed. yeah, whatever that means. so i had four options: the first is do nothing & come back if i decide to try a medication, the second would be to try a liquid med in a pediatric dose & increase dosage gradually over several weeks, the third would be to try a half pill dose of medication & then after a week or two bump up to a full dose, & finally the fourth would be to just start out on a medication at full dose. i chose the last one. i don't want to take meds, but i'm willing to do it temporarily if i have to. & if i'm going to do it i may as well just do it & not fuck around with anything like a half dose or a liquid med. so i'm now taking prozac, the smallest dose they can give me without it being a liquid or splitting a pill.

needless to say there are lots of people not happy about this. me for one. my parents are really not happy. some of my friends are upset on my behalf too. i know, if i really don't want to take the pills it is completely within the scope of my control. i don't HAVE to take them. bit i'm going to try. i took the first one saturday morning. i take one pill, once a day, in the morning. now considering the fact that often times i have trouble taking my vitamins this may or may not go well. we will have to see on this. i am trying to be better about taking my vitamins too. i know that i'm only hurting myself by not taking them (there will be another blog about this AND my unhappiness in relation to my clinic & my unnecessary trip to urgent care last friday evening).

in 3 weeks i go back to see peter to check in on the medication thing. my main goal between now & then is to just take the prozac every day. since i'm very pill challenged lately i think that's a pretty decent goal. what i will say, & i say this LOUDLY & publicly: IF THIS FUCKS UP MY CREATIVE PROCESS & IMPEDES MY WRITING I WILL IMMEDIATELY STOP TAKING THE DAMN PILLS. i have absolutely no sense of humor on this one, no wiggle room, & no leeway. i'm meeting with deborah on wednesday & we're going to put together a schedule, a plan, for me to finish my damn mfa already so i can get on with things. try to get a teaching job, try to just move on with my life. i've been swimming in lame little circles without any forward progress & i need to move on. if these pills help that, then great. but if they make my life, my writing, more difficult then i say screw them hard, i'll go it alone.

with six you get eggroll

welcome to the family, marley!



yes, for anyone keeping track i am now the mom to SIX fuzzbutts! little marley was looking for a new home. her mom had gotten a promotion at work. which is great, especially in the current economy, but it wasn't so great for little miss marley because promotion=more responsibility=more work=less ferret time.

i went back & forth for a while if i should adopt marley or not. yes, i have five, which is a lot of ferrets. but then, on the other side, cassidy seems to really miss lily because nyddah is sundance's BFF, & podo & doodle will kind of pair up, which leaves cass all on his own. so i was thinking it may be nice to get a little girl to see if she'd bond with cass, or at least somehow even things out. & then Z told me i couldn't buy love & that it'd be wrong to try to replace lily in cass's heart & i'd be evil. so then i was thinking no.

well, two things happened while i was in cali. the first, i decided to tell E that if cass & lily seem super upset to be separated that i would let him take cass most of the time so the two of them could be together. i know, that's super huge to give up one of my ferrets. but i really want my kids to be happy & if cass is really happiest with lily i want that for him. i also just put the marley issue out into the universe & said if she's meant to be part of my family then she will be, & if not i hope that she finds a really great home.

i had emailed marley's former mom before i went to cali & spoke with her & told her i was going out of town & i'd talk with her again when i got home. well, after returning to MN little marley was still looking for a place to live. i then decided to get a second opinion. i asked E what he thought because he knows how much work ferrets are & he'd be the one that i would wind up asking to watch her (&my other fuzzies) if they need a sitter. he didn't even hesitate & told me right away to adopt her. that pretty much blew my mind because i figured he would tell me "beckah, you have five ferrets, that's more than enough, you don't need another one, you crazy ferret lady." guess there was just something in the universe saying little miss marley was meant to be part of my family.

she's a smart little girl with TONS of energy. she fit in right away with the gang. i had E's ferrets for a few days because he was really sick. so when i walked in with marley tonight (er, saturday night) she right away wanted to play & run with the other kids. i held her for a little bit & then picked up the other ferrets one by one to sniff her, but then she wanted to just run & dook & play. there weren't any tempertantrums or bickering amongst the kids. they right away just accepted her as another one of them. she also seems to be in ferret 7th heaven with all of the fuzzbutt toys that i have & the fact that she went from being an only ferret to haivng five siblings. as i type this she & doodle are cuddled up together in the plush fish in the cage.


i've kind of considered changing her name from marley. it's a cute name, but it's not exactly what i would have chosen. she does answer to it though, which makes me feel a bit guilty about changing her name. & then there's the fact that her other mom really loved her & i feel sorta bad changing her name. i didn't feel bad about changing sundance & cassidy's name from what they were previously cause they didn't answer & i couldn't pronounce them anyway. & nyddah's, well, that was another situation. i did leave podo & doodle's names. so guess it's a toss up. i was thinking if i did change it that maybe i'd change it to harley, it rhymes with marley so she should still answer to it & it's super cute. we'll see what happens with that.

here are some pics of marley (harley?) with her new siblings & cousins (E's kids are her cousins. harley (i think i'm going to see if she answers to that) is the one in the middle with the two dark patches on her head with podo above her. doodle & nyddah are missing from this picture, but otherwise the rest of the gang is there. the fuzzbutts all really love each other, which makes me happy.

looking forward

back from cali & i have a bit of a plan. still not too sure on some of the finer details. but here's what i've got so far:

~march 20th meet with the shrink at the emily program for possible medication
~march 25th meet with deborah at the gls house to talk about my thesis/mfa
~mid april-beginning of may meet with larry also about my thesis
~some time in the next 12 months head out to cali again

um, yeah. so, good plan. to quote Z "great talk." i did make some lists of some things that i want to do in order to "reclaim my life." or, at least that's what i'm calling it. lately i've let some things get out of my control & i need to get everything back in order. while in cali i did get some stuff figured in terms of my writing. & just in terms of my life in general. & i took a long hard look at what i'm doing right now, what i want to be doing/where i want to be in 5-10 years, & now i'm trying to map out a path of how to get there.

the first step/stop on my journey is getting my mfa. like i said in my airport message i feel like things will start to fall into place once that is done. i'm going to put the novel aside, work on just my poetry & get the damn degree already so i can start looking forward to other things.

me + my luggage = what?

the new things with airlines is no luggage no extra fee, but you want to check a bag & you're going to pay for it. when i was in cali i did a BUNCH of shopping & got some nifty new stuff (mainly clothes, but also some dvds & new lights for my bedroom). so i had to buy myself a duffel bag to get all my stuff home because i didn't feel like boxing it up & shipping it, or making dev ship it for me. so yesterday morning at the airport i had to pay an extra $40 to get myself & my luggage both back home. i know, highway robbery. it was $15 for the first bag & $25 for the second one, but, i did get tons of stuff out there & it was pretty cheap. i know shipping it probably would've been cheaper, but, like i said i didn't want to deal with that.

so the airport employee had my bags up on the scale & just for kicks i asked how much it weighed. 57.8 lbs for two checked bags. hrm. so let's see. i am about 160 + two checked bags of 57.8= 217.8. & the last time i flew back in 2007 i was 263. so myself & my luggage combined weigh almost 50lbs less than the last time i flew, but they're charging me an extra $40 to check luggage because of increased gas prices. anyone else feel snookered here? cause i know i do. i know it's just a way for the airlines to have higher revenue coming in while appearing to have lowered ticket prices. because seriously, who doesn't fly with checked bags? especially when the size allowance on carry-ons keeps getting smaller & smaller.

personally i'm thinking if gas prices is what is driving the airlines to adjust the prices of flights then there should be some changes to the pricing. how about each ticket giving you a weight allowance. you + luggage is less than or equal to X no additional fee. you + luggage is greater than X & there is a sliding scale fee. i was just told at work "just because you're skinny don't hate on fat people." & i don't hate on fat people. i was one not that long ago & still see myself as such even though dev has nicknamed me his SLB (skinny little bitch) friend. isn't it odd that i still see myself as a fat person? talk about body dysmorphia.

not sure when i plan on flying again, but i may need to just get a bigger suitcase. so instead of two smaller ones & having to pay two luggage fees then i'll just have to pay one fee for one bag. that'll work, right? i know i'll be headed back to the bay within the next year, but just don't know the exact when. in the mean time maybe i'll have to learn how to pack more stuff into a smaller space. lots of possibilities here.

california dreamin'

once again i'm sitting in a california airport waiting for a plane to take me back to mn. i was only here for 6 days/5 nights but i got a lot done in that time. i physically did a lot. i saw the winchester mystery mansion, went to alcatraz, ran all over pier 39, haggled for silk robes in san fran, bought so many new clothes using my 30% discount at gap that i had to get an extra duffel at target for the trip back, got drunk off one B-52 in a souvenir shot glass at the hard rock, saw a body tales performance, took some bubble baths, drank lots of long islands at dave&busters, cruised in a convertible, sang karaoke, did some writing, reconnected with my poetry, fell in love with avocado, laughed over burning man memories of elephant dick & the orange tent, hung with one of my best friends in the world eating 100 calorie bags of popcorn watching random dvds, & did a lot of thinking/soul searching.

where does this leave me? i just said: sitting in the san jose airport on free wireless waiting for a plane to take me back to minnesota. i can't even say back home because i just don't know. it's been almost two years this time between my trips out to california. the last time i was here it was for my 30th birthday to get my fairie tattoo. before that i'd been out here a few times, visiting my friends & hanging out. there is something about california that i really love. talking to my friends that live here i see the ugly side too, they have some really fucked up laws (ie ferrets are illegal) & the tax is even more ridiculous than mn & the gas prices are way more. but still, there is something about this place that i really love. & i feel at home here. i just don't know if i could move here. a big part of me loves it to that point, but i know myself & i'd need to have a very strong support system out here. friends are great & can be a great help, but sometimes you can only lean on a friend so much.

i still don't know what the fuck i'm doing. i'm not going pretend that i took a long weekend trip & i know everything that i'm going to do with my life, because i just don't. but i feel more focused than i did before. before i came out here i was a mess. i felt like a mess, i was chaos in a pair of low rise blue jeans, docs, & nightmare before christmas hoodie. my head was a swirl of confusion & i was lurching from one thing to another doing just what i could in order to get by & onto the next day.

still no answers, no great over arching epiphany, but i do feel more centered. dev was wonderful this past weekend. i could not ask for a better friend if i tried to place a custom order for one. every day he asked me what i felt like doing & even though i was kind of lame saturday & sunday night & just wanted to stay in with microwave popcorn watching movies he was fine with it & we had a great time. sometimes i feel like going out & dancing & drinking & partying. which we did friday night & it was awesome, but sometimes i need to be more still. & he was great about letting me just be still & being there for me while i was. i just really hope that one day i will be able to repay him for everything he did. i don't feel like a hug & a thank you & a hallmark card can do enough to convey my deep appreciation for his friendship.

so back to mn to try to put all of this back together in some meaningful order. i'll be meeting with deborah soon about my mfa. it's time to finish that up & move on with my life. to do that i may need to cut my loses & focus just on my poetry manuscript. it wouldn't mean abandoning my novel because i will finish it, but i may need to just set my novel aside for right now & focus on getting my poetry manuscript together, complete, as strong as it can be so that i can obtain my degree & have that one chapter of my life completed. but i'll figure out more of that in the upcoming weeks. for now. i'm going to shut down my laptop. repack my carry on luggage. & get ready for the flight home. maybe pop an ultram for pain. maybe take a nap in flight. either way i'm leaving california better than when i got here. & leaving behind pretty much one of the best friends a girl could have.

movie time

this link is a really cute twist on the movie the watchmen. if you haven't seen the movie yet i suggest you do so. very soon. it was fabulous! i've seen the movie twice & plan on seeing it again in the theater, i think. & if i don't see it in the theater again i will definitely buy it on dvd as soon as it comes out. i haven't read the book, although i am currently in the middle of reading (see the action shot below). so far the book is really great & if it continues being so, which i'm guessing it will, i recommend both the book & the movie!

my life is messy

so E called me late friday evening. one of his ferrets, moxie (my favorite one & one of the ones that i asked him to give me in the break up) was sick. she'd been at the vet earlier that day, but she was sluggish, stumbling around, & had a small seizure. yeah, i know, scary. he called me to ask if i had any ferretvite, which is a high calorie supplement to give ferrets when they are sick. it can be given to healthy ferrets too, a bit at a time, as just a multivitamin, but it's also good if your ferret is sick to help them get better. basically he suspected that she had insulinoma. basically that is the ferret version of diabetes. well, with fuzzies since they're such tiny little guys they can go from being a little sick to seizing & dead VERY quickly. so poor moxie was having trouble walking & had a small, or a couple small, seizures. well, since she's my lil girl i had to rush right over to see her, ferretvite & all my other treats in tow.

i did have plans for friday night, but the universe was somehow working towards me taking care of my moxie because my plans fell through about five minutes before E called to tell me she was sick. what would i have done if i would have still had plan/been out with my friends & E called me to say mox was sick? i'm really not sure. she's my little girl & i adore her to pieces, but i also know that he can't expect me to drop everything in my life at a moment notice because he needs something. & there was a part of me that wanted to tell him i was busy, even though i wasn't, just so he doesn't think he can expect me to come running whenever he calls. but, if something would've happened to mox i would have been devastated that i didn't get to spend just a little more time with my baby.

this whole being civil & remaining friends for the kids is hard. WAY hard. not like i hate E or anything, because i don't. but seeing him & knowing that there is a wall between us cuts me. i know it's trite & over used & totally cliche, but it feels just like a knife being twisted in my chest. & i'm starting to think that maybe i shouldn't see him at all for a while. i want to talk to him & i miss him, but seeing him kills me right now. & i don't know how much longer i can keep torturing myself.

so what now?

good question. damn good question. wish that i had the answer to that. here's what i do know:
~march 10th i have my year surgery follow up at hcmc
~march 12th i'm headed to cali
~march 17th i'm back from cali
~march 20th i have my psych eval for possible medication script
~march 21st & beyond: not a single clue

one thing i know is that while i should be very content & happy with my job(s) i'm not. i want more out of my life. i want more than just the status quo. i deserve more than the status quo. i deserve spectacular. i do know that i can't get that just sitting around biding my time & waiting. waiting for what i don't know. it wasn't until just recently, like oh, the last 24 hours that i realized i have been waiting. waiting. watching. wondering. wasting. definitely wasting my time. & that's the most previous commodity that any of us has is our time. & i'm done wasting mine.

it goes against the grain of my personality. i tend to be a very giving person. a very loving person. a very accommodating person. but i need to be more selfish in order to protect my most import asset: myself. it's one thing if i get back as much from the person as i give, but i've come to realize that doesn't happen all the time. for instance, with E. it's been just like 2 1/2 weeks since the break up (& yeah, it still hurts at times) but trying to step back & take a look at what was really going on, he wasn't giving me as much as i needed. as much as i wanted. as much as i deserved. he expected me to respect what a precious commodity HIS time was, but he didn't give that same consideration to me often.

& he also didn't pay attention to me in the way i need when it comes to my writing. at times i felt like he didn't think writing was as important as the painting/illustrating that he did. which is complete & total bullshit. in a visual world how fucking hard is it to be a writer? the answer is: DAMN HARD! & while i kept up on his deviant art site & kept up on his projects i would often have to tell him over & over & over & OVER again what i was working on. which, let's face it gang, isn't that tough. i'm working on a novel, some poetry, & then a memoir about my eating disorder. that's basically 3 things i was asking him to keep track of. ok, yeah, a little hurt over that whole thing.

i deserve to have someone in my life that remembers those little things that i'm doing & makes it a priority to remember. i know some people have bad memories, but even if you have a really bad memory you should be able to keep a couple things straight/in your mind about the person you love/are in a relationship with. not like i'm saying E is a bad person or anything, because i'm not. but that is one of the things that bothered me is that i often felt like i was not as big a priority in his life as he was in mine. & that is a really bad feeling.

i really don't know what my plans are, honestly. right now i'm just trying to get through each day as best that i can. some days are harder than others. i miss E a lot, i miss our relationship, i miss the promise of all of that....but i know that i can't live in the past or in the promises of what once was. all i can really do is take what i have & deal with that.

& another bit of beckah on the web

i created a deviant art page this morning before heading into work. it's listed under my list of links, but here it is:

http://justshayde.deviantart.com/

i'll be posting poems & other pieces of writing there. of course, this will always be my blog, but it can't hurt to get my writing out into the world & seen by more people. right now there is only one poem on it because that's all that i had time to post before i left for work. but i have lots more poems to put up there....& another reason to write a bunch more. to get myself out there & keep people checking my deviant art page, my blog.

yes, yes i am pimping myself. pretty soon i'll be getting business cards too. thanks for the recommendation, sahara!

happy NEDA (national eating disorder awareness) week

february 22-28th is national eating disorder awareness week. what does that mean to me? i honestly don't know. this is something that i live with each day, every day, each moment that i'm awake. it's something that i battle with as i sleep. & in all the in-between places. i asked E if our break up has/had anything to do with my eating disorder. & he told me no. & i believe him. but he did say that it scares him that maybe i will die from it. fuck. i thought i was the only one that considered that. but i'm not. my mom said she's worried about me. that maybe one day my body will buckle under the strain of my eating disorder & it'll kill me. so there's at least two people.

how fucking lame would that be if i allowed myself to let this fucking disease over take me? i keep thinking that over & over. & then i think that i should be stronger. sometimes i try to make light of all of it & think what my dad said to me when i was a kid "be a cloutier. be a man." it's what anyone in my family says when things get tough & we need to be tougher. but just sucking it up isn't going to help me this time. i've been in therapy now for almost six months now & i do wonder if it's working or not. how is talking about my relationship with food going to fix anything? how much longer do i want to do this? how much longer can i do it?

i want to be healed already. i want to be ok. i feel so broken. vulnerable. fragile. i absolutely hate feeling like that. i hate that every interaction with food is a little battle for me. eating breakfast. packing a lunch. going out to dinner with friends. facing treat day at work. potlucks. anything & everything involving food becomes a dance for me. i want to be normal, but what is the normal? i feel like there are so many things that influence my every day interactions with & thoughts about food. but i don't feel that it's appropriate to blame "the media" or "society" or anything else. like any situation my eating disorder is complex. it's made up of so many little nuances, each of which influence each other & compound each other that there isn't an easy fix to any of it.

there's also a part of me that for some reason is resentful of my workplace reaction to all of this. not like i'd decorate my cube or put up a bunch of stuff talking about eating disorders. but there's something about the fact that it's been made clear that my eating disorder should be kept out of my work that is off putting to me. especially as the week starts that is supposed to be national eating disorder awareness week. yeah. something to ponder.

i want to write more, but i'm not quite sure what to say at this moment. & i need to take E's ferrets back to him. the longer i wait to leave the later it'll be when i get home.

when will thin be thin enough?

it's a question i've been asking myself a lot lately. today at work i was passing by someone & she said "you're SO thin!" & i just smiled & nodded because i didn't know what else to say or do. i was 155.8 this morning on my scale. yesterday morning i was 158.8. i don't think i really lost 3 lbs in one day, at least, i'm pretty sure that i haven't. i have been eating. yesterday it was more like 2 meals & a snack because i had this health screening at work at 11am & i had to fast for 9hrs before hand so i didn't have anything to eat until lunch time. on the plus side, my fasting glucose was 66 which is on the low end of normal so i don't think i really have anything to worry about with my blood sugar.

if i'm weighing 155 my bmi is around 26. still over weight. still frickin overweight! it makes me want to scream & tear at the walls. i was laying in bed this morning getting ready to get up & face the day & i can feel my ribs easily beneath my skin. my hips protrude from the skin. so do the edges of my pelvic bone. yeah, really, they do. i can feel my vertebrae all the way down my back. & it's painful. really painful to sit directly on your tailbone. trust me on this one. i know because i've been doing it. but i'm still not thin enough for me (for my eating disorder). but then, i'm happy because i'm just 10 lbs away from being in the "normal" BMI range. yes, sick, twisted, i know this.

& the BMI charts are a crock of shit in general. i mean, really, who do they apply to? i have met some of the thinnest, fittest, healthiest people that the BMI charts say are overweight. really? wtf, mate? at the health screening yesterday i mentioned to the health coach that i was concerned about my BMI & she looked at me like i'd suddenly grown a second head on my shoulders. & she asked about my fitness & i told her how much i used to work out & she said even if i'm still not that active (which i'm totally not) that my body has maintained some of the muscle & that definitely has an impact on BMI & that i really shouldn't be worried too much.

so what about HCMC's estimate of my weight? 132.7 is where they think i should be. so i still have another, um, 20+ lbs to go. i'm not shy about admitting that my thighs, stomach, upper arms all have fat that could be gotten rid of. also my calves are pretty chunky. then again, i was told yesterday that my face is really thin, too thin, & my upper body is really too thin also. if i were made of play-do all i would need is a little reshaping & sculpting to be all better. but i'm not made of play-do. & all i can do is start to exercise & hope that'll help some & then start saving for plastic surgery.

at this point i'm really not looking for perfection. i'd just like to be able to wear a short sleeved shirt without being SO self conscious. & i'd like to be able to wear a swim suit without being so hyper aware of how saggy & flabby my thighs are. yeah, exercise should help some. if i would've started exercising a year ago that would've been best because i would've been working out while i was in such rapid weight loss from the surgery, but i can't go back in time. & if i could, i'd probably want to change so much that i may not even find myself at the same place that i am right now because i would've changed the outcome of my life. (as an aside i finally watched the matrix a few weeks ago. yeah, probably a good thing i didn't see it a while ago. it totally messed with my head & is still tripping me up. i totally would've been much more paranoid for the last several years if i'd seen the matrix in the 90's. & i feel like i already blogged about this. did i really? or am i just experiencing deja vu because something was changed in the program? yup. good thing i didn't watch the matrix before).

i wonder when i really WILL be thin enough. will it be a number on the scale? will it be a clothing size? right now i wear anything between a 13 & 15 in jeans depending on the brand. t-shirts i wear medium or large, depending on the cut. i have lots of clothes that are bigger than that because they're cute & i'm trying to get as much wear out of them as possible. i never thought i'd find myself in this place. for the longest time i would've said that 13 would be just dandy! that to wear a medium or large tshirt would be just ducky! that to walk into victoria secret & fit nicely into their medium panties would be perfect. & yet. & yet. *sighs* & yet here i find myself obsessing as i look at my clothes, run my hands over my body, & criticize the reflection the mirror gives me.

finally: the charts from hcmc in december

my desk is being moved at work today. or rather, i'm being moved, the desk is staying where it is. so i was cleaning my cube & packing stuff up & i found my chart from my december appointment at hcmc. so i figured i'd put it up here. as of december my bmi was 27 (still over weight) & i'm still 26 lbs from hcmc's goal weight for me.

i still don't know how i feel about that. i don't even remember weighing the amount i do right now. yesterday morning i was in a meeting at work & i think i may have been the smallest girl in the meeting. that blew my mind & i was unable to concentrate for the rest of the meeting because i was trying to guess if i did weigh the least. & then at the same time i was thinking about my body & how i looked & just so dissatisfied that i weigh as much as i do. or, that i'm as big as i am. & i do realize that is a really fucked up thing to say because i see how thin, too thin parts of my body are. but then, but, i'll look at my clothes & think that they are huge & i'll touch my arms or legs or tummy & just get so upset that they aren't smaller.

& no, i'm not oblivious to how messed up this all is. evidently it's darkest before the dawn. i kind of hate that phrase. actually, i really hate that phrase. i hate any cliches that are meant to make you feel better, they literally make me sick. i don't like being sick & weak. i hate the fact that everyday is a struggle to get myself out of bed, dressed, & go into work to face another day. everyday i come home so exhausted & wrung out. & i let out my ferrets & i don't even really have the energy to actively play with them. on the one hand i'm lucky i have five because they have each other to play with. but i know they miss me. they'll come up to be & want to play, or give me kisses. & they give me this look. they are SO sad. & that just breaks my heart.

*sighs* i don't want to, i really don't want to, but i think that today i will ask ann for the referral to see a psychiatrist & get on a med temporarily. i feel defeated saying that. & i'm so damn scared that i won't be able to write any more. & i'm confused. & i am having trouble concentrating. it's 7:33am. time to head to work.

blessed

i'm having chest pains right now & i hurt so bad i can barely sit on my couch. my doctor called & said all of my labs were normal except for my blood glucose, which was 145 & not fasting. so she is going to send me a lab slip & wants me to come in & do a fasting blood draw soon. i'm not terribly worried because i know that day was off. i had eaten barely anything, just mainly espresso with milk & splenda. i think maybe i nibbled something, i can't recall. honestly that day was a blur. i think that's a bit high, but it's not terribly high. i have to say though, wouldn't it be totally fucking ironic if i wind up having gastric bypass to get healthier & then i wind up getting fucking type 2 diabetes anyway? right before they drew my blood, as in, oh, one minute before, i had just finished drinking my coffee.

over the past couple days i've talked with some friends about the medication route. i still really don't want to do it, but i'm getting worse. a lot worse by the day. i go to work in the morning & i become a lot like a ferret. i hide my pain & put on a brave face & show people what they want to see. & then, at the end of the day, i limp home completely wrung out & exhausted. tonight i stopped at cub to pick up some fresh fruit & i was so fuzzy headed i could barely think while shopping. i got home & wanted to skip dinner because it just seemed like too much work to microwave something. in the end i wound up eating a couple of strawberries & a piece of pizza.

right now i feel so weak & everything seems overwhelming. & yeah, the bullshit with E weighs heavy on my heart. & my fuzzy cassidy is depressed & misses his sweetheart lily. & that hurts to watch cassidy be hurt & i can't do anything about it. yes, i know some people are thinking "they are just ferrets." but really, they are much smarter & more intuitive & sensitive than people think. & while i am hurting badly about E it's really my eating disorder that is more concerning.

some of my friends & family want to blame E for my decline in health, but this had started before last week. i've been treading water in terms of my eating disorder for a while. my life has been chaos since december & i've been trying to figure this thing out. every week i go to therapy & every week i try to do my best, in every meal, every day, every hour. it just seems like it's not enough.

& i keep hearing that i'm strong & i'll be ok & i'll get through this even stronger on the other side. but why can't i have faith in that? maybe because right now i'm running low on everything. well, almost everything. i am really fortunate in that i am getting a lot of support from my friends & family. last night a friend from the east coast called. he was talking with me online & called to see how i was. today another friend that i haven't talked to in a few weeks just randomly texted me. i asked him how he knew i needed a friend & he said he didn't know, just that i had been on his mind. & then sinead called me tonight. so i am very blessed. while i'm having difficulty having faith in myself i do have a lot of people that are showing they care about me & love me. i have to admit, that helps. just knowing that there are so many people around that care about me & really want me to get better & want to help me in anyway that they can.

while i really don't want to do it, i am thinking that tomorrow when i see ann i'll get a referral to see a psychiatrist at the emily program to talk about meds. like sinead & josey said, it doesn't have to be forever, maybe just for a little bit. & if it'll help me get evened out enough to get my eating under control & start to get healthy, then that's what i'll have to do. obviously being stubborn & living on espresso are not doing anything. oh caffeine, why have you forsaken me? i guess this just goes to show: there really are some problems that cannot be solved by coffee.

but, for right now. it's almost 10:30pm & it's taken me quite a while to finish this blog because i keep losing my train of thought..... & nearly falling asleep. so i'm off to bed & hoping for a good night's sleep.

father knows best....well....sometimes...

i do love my dad, don't get me wrong. but sometimes i just wonder if he's ever met a girl in his life. i showed up all broken hearted & wounded friday night at my parents' house with ferrets & footie jammies in tow. & we're watching a movie & i'm trying to choke down a bit of pizza & he looks at me & says "men are like buses. if you miss one another one will come by."

really? that's what you're going to tell me when i don't know what's happening with the person i thought i was going to spend the rest of my life. damn.

so then today we're watching the history of gangs on the history channel. it was a two hour show that went all the way back to the start of america as a country & then talked about gangs all the way up to today. at one point there was a clip of "west side story" on the show & my parents started talking about what a good movie it was. i admitted that i hadn't seen it so my dad says "hey, it's on demand, let's watch it."

are you fucking kidding me? this time i looked at him & said "really. you are seriously suggesting that right now i watch a love story about a white guy & a puerto rican girl? are you kidding me?!" for anyone who doesn't know, E is from puerto rico. yeah. my dad. mr sensitive he's not.

but, his faux pas in the arena of love aside, my dad has a good heart & tries really hard. he also does the best he can by me & my siblings. & sometimes he does have some good advice. yesterday we were together most of the afternoon at the emergency vet because walker (my parents' dog) was super sick. while we were stuck in the uncomfortable chairs at the emergency vet with nothing to do but stare at the walls or talk to each other my dad & i actually talked to each other.

he's still not very comfortable talking about my eating disorder. he just doesn't get it. he thinks that all i need to do is just put my meals in this little pink bowl he gave me, each everything in that bowl three times a day & i'll be fine. on the one hand my dad is right. if i could just three times a day portion out a balance of protein, veggies/fruit, & carbs & then actually eat that, just that, no snacking, i'd be ok. the cynic in me says this sounds so similar to the way to "fix" a fat person. "just eat less and exercise more & you'll drop that weight in no time!" it's so easy in theory, from the outside the answer is simple & obvious. but when you're in that body, in that life, it's not so easy all the time to do what you should.

on the upside, getting to spend some time alone with my dad we got to talk & neither of us could run or avoid any issues. on friday i went to my doctor to talk about the issues i've been having with pain & all of that. my doctor ran a bunch of lab tests & then asked me a bunch of questions: are you throwing up, are you exercising, how often are you exercising, are you depressed, why aren't you eating, how often are you eating, & etc. she also had the lab do an ekg to see how my heart is holding up (it turned out normal) in addition to all the blood tests. i'll find out about the blood tests next week. she then looks at me & tells me that she thinks that i'm depressed & that i really should go on an antidepressant.

my therapist wants me to see one of their psychiatrists at the emily program & go on antidepressants. that was the one thing that i said up front i did not want at all: no pills. i was on paxil in the past & i couldn't feel anything. sure, i didn't feel sad anymore, but i didn't feel happy, angry, or anything at all. so i took myself off of that. then later i was on wellbutrin which was ok, except i would be fine & then all of a sudden i would be the most angry person on planet earth. there wouldn't be any reason for it at all, just suddenly i'd be filled with rage. once again, i took myself off that medication. now i know that those aren't the only two meds in the world that are meant to help with depression, but so far i've had bad experiences with two antidepressants.

when i told my dad both my doctor & my therapist think i need to be on antidepressants he got pretty upset on my behalf. & for once (unlike the bus reference or west side story incident) he had some good advice for me. my dad thinks, & i agree & this is what i think too, that there has to be SOMETHING else that i can try before i bend to the pressure & go on pills. my dad suggested i try this liquid vitamin that he takes called vibe. & then he suggested that i start exercising, even if it's just five minutes a day. he thinks between those two things that maybe it'll help my moods enough, & also my eating disorder, so that i don't have to go on meds.

& i agree with him. because i really don't want to go on meds. if i have to i will. & i guess maybe it'll make an interesting chapter in my book, but that's also why i don't want to go on meds. the two times that i've been on meds in the past they've seriously fucked with my head to the point of interfering with my ability to write. & i don't want to take that chance. it's just too high a price to pay. if i go on meds & they "fix" me enough to get my eating disorder under control, but then i'm not able to write, what good is it being "fixed" because the part of me that i value the most, that is really the essence of who i am, would be missing. seems a little like a catch 22. i don't know 100% for sure that the meds will fuck with my ability to write. but seriously, anything that chemically changes your brain cannot be great for you. & i don't know that i want to take a chance.

they're numbers, just numbers, scoob

stepped on the scale this am. 161.4. & i smiled. i was happy because earlier this week the scale said 165. my heart is broken. i feel emotionally torn asunder. but the scale rewarded me (my eating disorder) with a loss. & was it me smiling or my eating disorder? right now, my eating disorder is loud & has more control than she should. so it was her smiling. it was me. it was both of us. i shimmied into my size 14 jeans, which hug my hips & thighs & are a tidge tighter than i want them to be. but the scale has me so close to being back in the 150's. & all the while as i pull the jeans up, button & zip them. i'm thinking as i look down at my flabby belly & thighs that if only i could get rid of that fat that is hanging out. i don't want hollywood perfection (do i? no, i don't think so). i just want to be able to look at myself naked without feeling shame for the abuse my body has taken over the years.

i ate breakfast. but that wasn't until 10:30am (i think it was then). i forced myself to eat yesterday. my sister came by after work. she is a godsend. if she would not have been here i may have skipped dinner. & even with her here, watching me, i only ate about 1/3 of a piece of pizza. i tried. i really tried to eat more but my stomach clenched & rolled & i couldn't eat more. i felt like i didn't deserve to eat. didn't deserve food. i had to punish myself because it was my fault (even though i know it's not true & E said it's not true & dev said E is a fucking idiot for giving up the best woman on earth----have i mentioned i love dev for being such a loyal friend?) so even though i know that this is all E's issue(s) & it's nothing i did my eating disorder doesn't care. it's something for her to grab, hang on to, something for her to hold up in my face to tell me "see, if you let ME control your life things will be better."

how starving myself &/or binging will make my life better i don't now. eating disorders are a strange beast. they're a combo of medical & mental health issue. technically i see a therapist & technically my claims are paid from my mh/sa benes on my health insurance (mh/sa benes= mental health/substance abuse benefits). a lot of it is in my head & my response to food. the way that i deal with, or don't deal with, my emotions. but it has a lot of medical repercussions that are not necessarily evident with other mental health issues. i have a doctor appointment tonight because i am very weak & sick. i haven't wanted to admit it to anyone, but physically i'm sort of back to where i was this past fall....& no it isn't all of a sudden since the break with E. it's been going on before that. i've also had dizzy episodes & near passing out. my chest hurts. & i missed my last period (& no, i'm not pregnant). i confessed all this last week in therapy & i've never seen ann or amy so shocked. so yeah, i had to promise them i'd go to the doctor.

i haven't even lost that much weight recently. or starved myself (too much) recently. so i don't know why i missed my period. i'm on the pill so it should be pretty regulated. i thought that kind of thing only happened to girls who weigh like 100 lbs or less. i told my mom all this & i could hear her tears over the phone. & her response was "in nazi concentration camps women stopped menstruating because of extreme malnutrition because they were starved." isn't it amazing that my cabinets & fridge are stuffed to capacity with food & yet i'm starving & malnourished?

it makes me feel insane amounts of guilt. that i live in the richest country in the world, in a comfortable suburban home, with enough income to buy food, i do buy food, & yet i can't deal with it in a natural way. i know there are children starving here in my own country, here in minnesota there are children & people without enough to eat & i look at a piece of pizza & retch & feel nothing but repulsion. & when that guilt settles in sometimes i binge. but often i feel that if i can't be grateful then i don't deserve to eat at all. & then i starve myself (restrict as they say at the emily program). & i swing between binging & restriction. sometimes in the same day.

i'm sitting here at my computer & as i type i can see the bones in my hand move & it's oddly hypnotizing to see that. & i look down & i can see my clavicles protruding from my skin. & the part of me that is ME can't believe what i'm doing to my body. & my eating disorder is oddly pleased by it all. & then the writer in me thinks i need to get out my camera & take some pictures for my memoir because a picture really does need to be put in sometimes to convey a message. & in the end all these different parts are all me & i need to put them together to go on. i know that i can always go back to my parents. i know that they will always pick me up & put the pieces back together & make everything ok, or as ok as they can, but i need to do this myself in order to really recover.

when i was at the emily program on wednesday waiting for my appointment i was looking through the interactive journal in their waiting room. it's there for anyone to write anything they want in it. i was reading it & there was something in there that i swear my sister could have written. it was about how this girl was proud of her sister for admitting her problems & getting help & going through therapy for her eating disorder. & even though her sister thinks she is weak that she is really a very strong person, stronger than she knows & she's an amazing woman that can beat this disease. of course that's a paraphrase. i really wanted to copy the page, or take a picture with my iphone (maybe i will next week). & yesterday night when rachel was here she patted me knee, looked at me & said "you're stronger than you know. you'll get through all of this. i know that you will." my sister is an amazing person. she'll never know how much she means to me & how glad i am to have her.

happy re-birthday. or not so fucking happy

i'm in a bit of a self pitying mood right now. yesterday i met with manager yesterday & heard her side of the eating disorder discussion at work thing & it seems to come down to the fact that there is the perception that people will not respect me, or look down on me, or see me as weak or otherwise not a "leader" if they find out i have an eating disorder. i think that's total bologna. but for the sake of respecting my manager & supervisor's wishes i'm not going to talk about it much at work anymore. i know. it's fucking pathetic that i can't discuss a medical issue when i work at a health insurance company, but whatever.

that was only part of the disaster that was yesterday. i was just in a funk pretty much all day at work. i went to see my therapist yesterday evening as per usual & a ton of stuff came up that i've been mentally sitting on for a while. issues that i was semi aware of, but not really aware of. so it looks like i'll still be in therapy for quite some time. it's an over used phrase & is often quoted in many situations, but it really is a marathon not a sprint. i need to remind myself of that often to keep things in perspective.

& then to top off the day i had a really difficult evening with E. basically my night last night ended about 6:30am this morning when i finally cried myself to sleep for a whole hour & a half of not very restful sleep. i woke up at 8am & tried to go to work only to be sent home because i looked like a train wreck. i had a splitting headache/migraine so i called in at 5:30am & said i'd be in late, by 1pm, to do my presentation. since i couldn't sleep i showed up at 9am thinking maybe i could do some work. & i really had no business going in. my eyes were red & puffy & i was pretty much a disaster. i wasn't able to say more than 6 words to anyone without bursting into tears.

so what happened? yeah, good question, one that i'd like an answer to also. *sighs* E said he needs some time to figure stuff out, that he needs a break from our relationship. & that killed me. especially considering my last post in which i basically shouted out that i'm so gaga head over heels in love with him & think he's THE ONE. yeah. i feel like an idiot. i really do. & i'm really hurt. devastated. & of course my eating disorder is using this as a wonderful excuse to jump up & have a say in my life.

but i do have some things going for me. i have a wonderful sister. i showed up at her desk today & pulled her into a room & told her what was going on & she hugged me & held me & told me that this really sucks but that i'm a stronger person than i realize & i'll get through it. she's going to stop by my place after work & spend some time with me so that i'm not alone (i mean, besides the ferrets & rats). she made me promise her that i'd go home & have some water & some food. i haven't done so well on that. it's almost 1pm & i still haven't eaten anything. i've had coffee, but not really much water. which i really need. i know i'm dehydrated from crying for several hours straight.

today on my way home from work my good friend dev called me from cali. i'd sent him a text message saying simply "he broke my heart." & dev is an awesome person. he gave me a lot of good advice & put a lot of things in perspective for me. i'm still hurting, really badly. & i may or may not go into work tomorrow. i haven't decided that yet. but one thing dev pointed out is better E say he need some time to figure things out now than 5 years in the future when there are kids involved (yes, there are E & my ferrets involved, & they will be upset about not seeing each other/see each other as often.... but they'll have to buck up & grow up). but it could be worse. he & i could have had kids to deal with, a mortgage, breaking up a household or a myriad of other things that could have made things that much worse. i simply love dev, he never pulls any punches & never sugar coats a single fucking thing. sometimes what he says hurts, but it's always right.

i'm still upset, pretty upset & i'll need more time to process in order to become more okay with all of this. but the biggest thing for me is i'm going to miss E so fucking bad. he's become my best friend, my closest confident, & a really good companion over the course of our relationship & i hate to lose all that. maybe the friendship can be salvaged. i have been able to remain friends with other people i've been involved with, some of them becoming really good friends of mine. maybe this is only a small bump in our relationship. i don't have a crystal ball & i can't predict the future. i know what my preferred outcome is, if i can have my way. but ultimately i want happiness for both E & i.

so happy fucking re-birthday to me.

one thing i know is my sister is right. for some people allowing depression to settle in & cause meal skipping is a temporary thing & nothing too worrisome. but for me i need to be extra vigilant to not let that happen because for me to do that is really dangerous, possibly life threatening. & like E said, i've got my ferrets & rats that depend on me 100%. & if i get sick they won't have anyone. so i'll post this blog. drink some water. nibble a little something. & go nap.

a brief you tube ferret interlude