I am presently grieving the loss of my house. ( there is a chance that I will keep it but that is small and fading fast.) Why would you grieve a living space that you don’t even own? A tiny apartment soon to be occupied by someone else, and occupied by someone else before you?
Because it was the first place that was mine in a long long time. I had not lived alone since 1999, and I found I missed it. Managing everything for myself without a roommate to interfere. Controlling what was done there. How things were cleaned when and what was cooked and why who to invite and who not . Control over the basic functions of one’s life, very basic.
Plus all the other things I miss about the neighborhood that I listed in a previous post. But no one can be where they want to be all the time.
The strangest thing that I’ve discovered about the present experience and I didn’t expect. Is that my family as loving and as close as they are appear to be in denial about the way I have to do things now. There is also the list of things that I cannot do at all anymore that I could do prior to December, prior to the cellulitis trying to kill me and failing … and leaving some nasty consolation prizes its wake.
I wish I could tell them to stop. Stop lying to themselves. Meet me where I am now, not where I used to be. Some of that I’ll is so great that it is impeding financial things that need to be done.
I fear having to be too forceful with these things with my maternal parent because it will not intersect well with her present state but where her procrastination intersects with my financial sanity I have to fight for my own ground.
Grand Central Station in my room this morning. First there was the company shrink, who I know I’m going to need if I I’m going to get acclimated. Or if I’m ever going to get out of here. Then there was the Perky Occupational Therapist, who came in just at the same moment. I feel that my head was more important than hand weights at that particular moment so she will return later today. Then some survey taker from some organization that I didn’t get the name of came in and began to ask me how my experience was. I answered her questions in a very un flavored bland manner, something like a cross between an oatmeal and tapioca pudding.
Then there was just the regular grouchy stuff that happens on a regular basis.
Then I got back in the bed. Because yesterday I sat up in a wheelchair * holding myself up by my feet * from 10 a.m. To 6 p.m. Way Too Long. And the physical therapist came at six o’clock yesterday.
( monologue inside my head: ) ” Really? Seriously? okay I’m supposed to use these feet for anything other than decoration? I’m supposed to stand up and hold myself up by my shaking hands and those feet for at least two minutes at a shot and then squat and then move them and weight shift ? Right. Yes. and the world is flat and I’m a skinny girl. ” but I did it all because of course therapy is my ticket out, and I damn well know it.
Before I forget, become incompetent, or die here’s the list of things memories I suppose that sustain me right now while I’m in captivity.
Thank God for choirs of voices and choirs of bells. (I was only in a bell choir once but it was a very cool experience.)
Thank God I got to play Maria in the Sound of Music… When I was 6 years old.
Thank God for Canada the drive up and the thing there. Not to disrespect my cousin or anything but I don’t need Disneyland or Disneyworld or any of that stuff. Canada stood in just fine for that.
Thank God for the camp full of people with disabilities what it meant was that for two weeks out of the year I didn’t have to explain anything and I was one of the cutest girls around.
Thank God for my high school crowd, my college crowd those evenings out, and those parties… And yes the check is still in the mail.
Thank God for hardass professors after 1030 in the morning, ( but not the ones before ), the piano room, the music room, the attic archive in the library the dorm room with the high ceilings yellow paint and steam heat, and the friends within it.
Second most of all thank God for the stage, where I won. There was great help there and great persistence in a good way by friends and colleagues, however, * I* won.
First and foremost , thank God for France. The ice cold showers simple breakfast, the rolling through Paris in all its glory. The awe of Versailles the silence of the tombs, music, film, food and so much more… The sands in the south, walking on the beach, the remnants of Greece and Rome found there. And let’s not forget the castles and the blizzard.
Then to my marriage in a category all it’s own. I’ll never forget the good parts in it and be blessed by those everyday.
Since I am in another low point in my life right now I don’t need to revisit the rest and I won’t
Lastly some things I’m thankful for that’ll keep to myself.
All of these and friends and family then I am perpetually thankful for are keeping me going these days.
I discussed the housing situation but I really don’t want to lose, and I discussed my right to leave against medical advice if I decide to do so. It is unlikely given the things that are going on with me but I have a little more hope since the foot is healing and the wounds are closed. There is a second issue though on the other issue shows no signs of slowing down.
Not going to say too much about this but I will say that I’m very surprised that I would ever come to the conclusion that a former enemy of mine could ever have too much karma against them.
But sometimes that happens. And I find it ironic that while I feel I’m dealing with just a little too much karma on my plate right now thank you very much , that this former enemy of mine also has an order of overwhelming karma on their plate at the same time. The universe must be doing some serious house cleaning. That’s about all I can figure out.