Where did my inspiration go? I'm just tired and in terrible pain all the time. I have been for years, though. I guess I have been distracting myself with other things, and my blog has suffered greatly as a result. I do try to keep up with humanitarian efforts, and still have plenty to say about what's currently going on in this country. I will find a day to climb on that soap box soonish.
For now, I'm just going to ramble about life.
I have a brand new account on Fakebook. It's here.
I returned to Instagram under my old, original account. It's here.
I still have plenty of people to find on both sites. If you're one of them, feel free to add.
Twitter hasn't changed, which means you're better off not following me there unless you're ok with F-bombs and advocacy. You know the username by now. (Caution: I will argue with absolutely anyone.)
I returned to Internal Medicine. I was expecting my cholesterol to be terrible. It wasn't, so that's a relief. We briefly discussed liver disease, and he's trying to help me with my muscle pain, but Medicaid is being an execution squad as usual and refusing to cover my meds. Currently fighting them about it. My weight is still the same, in the 170s. I'd like to make it back down to 160. My chest is too large. It is bothering me a lot (I dislike boobs in general, but especially mine) and I am in constant pain. Anything that puts the least bit of strain on my muscles amplifies my pain level to the point of misery and tears. So, I have to figure out how to reduce my weight from the waist up. I'm one of those people who is shaped like an apple, or more accurately, an upside down pear. Dr. B has no problem with my weight, as we have never discussed it. He wants me to watch how much fried food I'm eating because of my liver, and that's the extent of his dietary advice. He knows I'm disabled (I use a walker) and in severe pain (nearly in tears) and is trying to help. I told him about going to Birmingham, and he hopes that the specialist up there will be willing to do telehealth at some point, since the distance is physically challenging. Doing this alone is extremely hard, but I know it would be hard regardless.
I didn't return to therapy because the car was in the shop. I don't think I'm in any condition to go back right now anyway. I don't know what I would say if I did, or where I would even start with all that has happened over the last two years. I almost think I need to start over somewhere else, and with an actual psychiatrist. I asked for help in being excused from Jury Duty in January, and the therapist said "We don't do that." I wanted to ask "Then what the hell is the point of you?" but I didn't. I just think it's unfair to unload my life onto someone who is supposed to be supportive, who assessed me for PTSD, who knows I have suicidal ideation, but isn't willing to say so when the information is needed by a government entity. Truly, what is the point? I guess I'll look at other options. I had joined a therapeutic circle online back in 2020, and it went well until she started talking nonsense about forgiving abusers and the law of attraction (I loathe it!!) and zodiac stuff. That's when I checked out, and I believe I did the right thing. I'll keep looking for something that's adequate for my needs.
I am drawing and painting a little. I created a postcard for this year's TAE, which benefits the Encephalitis Society in the U.K. Because the scene I chose to paint is a tribute to family heritage, a relative asked to buy it. So I cranked out another card at the last minute, and sent it to York. It arrived one day before the deadline - whew!!! It can be seen here. The exhibit is in June.
I plan to have a few postcards ready next year early on, so I don't risk missing the deadline.
I am slowly learning manga. I'll share some of my work soon.
I need $1194 in dental work, so that's a nightmare. Almost everything I have ever drawn or painted is for sale. A lot of my collectibles are also. If you are familiar with my art and other belongings and think it's reasonably shippable, make me an offer. My mental health has been rock bottom since my kidney medication started destroying my teeth. I've lost two over the last year, and a third is giving me grief. It's a no-win situation.
I'm doing my best? Poverty in middle age is rough.
I'll be back when I can think of something else to talk about.
