the green light
I wish it didn’t hurt to do so many things with my hands. I keep wanting to write in my journal, paint for the fuck of it, play my violin, do what I say I think I can do, not let anyone down including…especially myself. Yeah, weird I know, but I actually do have pretty high fucking standards for myself and yes I have tried, almost 15 years I’d say, to be more realistic for myself, retrain my brain. The best I can do is not do the big bad things that make it easier to cope with failure but land me in the psych ward as an even bigger failure. *insert vicious cycle*
Luckily I can type for a fair amount of time and even longer if I take breaks and do nothing or other things with my hands that don’t cause pain for awhile, which works because I have a lot of things to be doing throughout the day. I want to write a memoir of sorts. It would be a fair amount of made up shit for where I have lost memories or details so with that in mind and knowing the life I’ve lived, I think I could put together something interesting. I never saw my life as overly entertaining until recently while telling random stories to a good friend who laughed a lot and seemed genuinely intrigued at times. For the record though, do not expect to see anything close to my actual name on a book anywhere ever or me meeting people or signing things. Saw a chick doing that on TV and realized it is not for me.
In other news my identity crisis continues since retiring ‘Sugar Girl’. I’ll wait til GISHWHES ends and reboot everything, maybe even my FB. I want to spend less time wasting time. I want to talk in person, on the phone or even through actual text rather than being glued to FB chat and AIM for the social interaction I really do crave.
Still on the great adventure that is called ‘lifestyle change’. No I’m not going to quit drinking and generally misbehaving. Let’s not get carried away here. I’m doing a lot of little things currently to start being more healthy. In just a day or so of eating better and cutting out the junk again I feel so much better. I like healthy food. I like being in motion. What could be better than getting healthy dancing most of the day and never feeling that over indulged heaviness that comes with trying to clear a plate the size of fucking Rhode Island? So I have let my husband know that I am done eating off the big plates and he bought me a cool little boombox because the under cupboard stereo is junk. Vitamins, coconut oil in my black coffee, snacking on fruits during the day (i don’t usually have much of an appetite), drinking lots of fruit infused water all day, dancing from room to room with my little boombox and eating much smaller dinner portions should have me feeling even better in no time.
Other things are going on. We are getting help from someone at a non-profit for people living on the Autism spectrum because there is no doubt that Chris has Aspergers syndrome. Things were bumpier than normal at first and I’m still coming to terms with things in my head where this is concerned. We have an appt with a counselor who has experience with Aspergers in older adults and she seems like she might be a good fit and she wants to help us if she can. She was obviously intrigued by the fact that he and I have lived the past decade under the assumption that my crazy was causing all the problems and now we know Chris has his own issue, so the fact that we have acknowledged this and my honesty about my crazy really surprised her. She at first described it as things being my fault then we found out it was his and I politely corrected her so she knew that we want to work together on these things and we are trying to not place blame. I’m broken, he is a variant. That is how I see it and it is basically true. Hopefully this is the light in the dark hallway I have been looking for.
I want to go outside today. Looks like the kind of day where my sunsickness wouldn’t bother me.
I have 2 sports bras now and I have no idea what to think of this. I needed them. My head keeps thinking that at some point I swore I would never be the kind of person that wore a sports bra.
this is currently my favorite song…
(picked that one because of a lack of advert, enjoy)