hanging on by a thread

I’m showing up here because I blocked out the time to show up. I’m pretty much phoning it in, you could say. I’m so thankful that not that many people read anymore because this post would be ripe for some get-off-the-internet jabs. I don’t mean to share to fish for compliments or even seek charity because the reality of my situation is I put myself here. I think that’s why I’m so down. I thought I would be thriving by now but I’m not. I’m sleeping all the time which is freaking me out.

I even drove over to Payam’s today to have him check my blood sugar because I was convinced I had diabetes. Turns out I don’t. Yes, Payam and I are still friends and I’m so thankful for that. He is beyond long-suffering with me. Thankfully the sleepiness seems to ebb and flow and usually, after a really drag-ass day, I can pick myself up again and get back to work. Maybe this is just normal.

Since nobody is policing what I share anymore I can record that I have a complex cyst on my left ovary. Maybe that is messing up my hormones and causing this latest grief. I am getting it checked out and so far everything seems okay. Has anyone ever mentioned that an endo biopsy is not pleasant?!!!  Oh my goodness, I felt like the doctor was prying me open with a screwdriver.  It was just as terrible as I worried it would be.  I haven’t heard the results yet but so far I have no real reason to worry too much.

I really got myself worked up over the endo biopsy. I was super afraid to go in for it and then when it happened and it was just as terrible as I imagined I started crying and I couldn’t stop. The poor doctor felt so bad for me. She kept handing me tissues and asking me if I needed ibuprofen. I didn’t. It was more the process and the anticipation that really got me and not so much the pain.

I think I had been stressed out over it for so long that when it finally came the dam broke. Then because of a comedy of errors I had to rush across town to a chiropractor appointment that I had immediately after. When I got there I could barely pull myself together. Thankfully the chiropractor is a crunchy-born-again-homeschooling-woo-woo healer so she was no stranger to weepy women seeking help. I put myself on her table and my head in the paper hole and the tears wouldn’t stop leaking out.

Then because I was trying so hard to stop crying I didn’t concentrate on my vice-grip back muscles that usually hold my back from cracking and KER-RACK-RACK-RACK CRACK CRACK CRACK! All my vertebrae in my middle back just ripped back into where they should have been. I have been trying to crack the middle of my back for years!! Who knew some crying would loosen me up just enough to make it finally happen. It felt amazing. By now my crying was pretty obvious and I couldn’t hide it anymore. The paper on my face was soaked. The chiropractor said that often our body gets rid of bad things by crying and that’s why I finally got properly aligned. I’m not sure about the accurate scientificness of this theory but I’ll take it. Whatever works.

So my back is great. It’s been not great for so long. I bought a new purple bed for our new apartment hoping it was Payam’s bed that was causing all my pain for the last few years but then it seemed the new bed even made it worse.  I was worried I had made a bad purchase and here I am still stuck paying payments on it but maybe the bed is fine and I just had myself out of whack from moving and carrying heavy furniture and maybe… just maybe some stress has had me hunched over like my Aunt Lois who had the elephant man disease.

When did this blog turn into an old lady blog who complains about her ailments? I know the answer to that one. When my cute little kid grew up and I can’t talk about her daily antics anymore! I miss little Bug so much. Don’t get me wrong. I love Bug as a teen but I really miss being a young mom. Last night I dreamt that I was playing with a popular Instagram influencer’s toddler and we were having so much fun. I was making houses out of cardboard boxes and cutting mail slots for pretend letters to go through. We were having puppet shows and I was letting her ride on my back…then I woke up and I was really sad that I don’t know this little girl in real life.

Many people have commented to me that they feel like they know me and Bug from reading this blog for so many years and I guess I know how you feel. I see that Instagrammer’s kid every day and I feel like she’s part of my life so I dream about her but if I ever met her in real life she’d probably run from me.  I need to cut back on my phone scrolling. What else is new? When I was talking to a psychiatrist the other day she told me that one in three people are on antidepressants. On one hand that’s awesome that antidepressants are helping so many people but on the other, what is wrong with this world that a third of us are depressed?! That is really depressing.

So let’s look at some purple trees instead. I love that it is jacaranda season. It’s really odd to be depressed in spring. The days are beautiful. I guess I should be thankful I’m not trudging through this in winter.

Mother’s Day was yesterday. Bug spent the day with me which was really sweet. She’s not usually one to think outside her own bubble so I was especially touched that she was making a day about me. That day started at noon since she slept in but I didn’t hold it against her. It’s not like I had any plans and if anyone knows anything it’s that teenagers sleep all day long. So we had breakfast for lunch and Bug gave me a special mug that she made in ceramics. Then we painted and that made me really happy. I painted a self-portrait and one of Bug. They are both pretty bad.  I’m not sharing the one of me but you can see the one of Bug where it looks like she had a Micheal Jackson nose. I’ll fix it if I ever get around to it. I think it’s okay to not be great at painting. I want to paint another portrait like it again next year and see how much better I get. I know if I paint regularly I will.

I might be depressed but at least I’m still making plans!

Speaking of plans. I’m turning 50 in July and for the life of me, I can’t put a party together. One day I’m bursting with ideas and then the next day I scrap them all. So if you get an invite from me on the week of you’ll know what happened.