Friday, January 18, 2008

An online book review starts off with the headline of "Where are all the happy people?
"The Geography of Bliss: One Grump's Search for the Happiest Place on Earth" by Eric Weiner.

...And in the United States, happiness seems to be in the search for happiness. ...
...How can America be a truly happy place if Americans never commit, if they are always looking for something better?...

Thursday, January 17, 2008

Neck pinch trauma continues. Fat Cat has what may be congestive heart failure and Mom had a bad reaction to the meds that the recent doctor prescribed for her hip pain. So that's the scene: 5:30 last night, I'm home to pick up Fatcat for yet another vet visit. I'm home at a reasonable hour for the 1st time in 2 weeks and Mom's not well. She thinks, oh you're home, good....but I can't stay as I have a 5:45 appointment to bring the cat in to the vet and I know he's really sick. So there I have to leave with the cat and not be able to take care of Mom. My Chinese priorities are really fucked up...

I know Fatcat's in a bad was as he's been gasping for air at this point. Either he's ill with something like pneumonia or he's in horrible pain is my guess. The vet that's been seeing him was out for his birthday - yay, who the fuck cares? Happy Birthday... WTF hasn't my cat gotten any better!? - so I had a different vet at the same office take a look at the beast. Just after I'm saying to no one in particular (to the cat maybe?) "Oh, please, don't have congestive heart failure..." The vet turns and looks in surprise at me, saying, well, it does look to be that and asking why would I say that? I told him I came up with it as a narrowing down of how his symptoms seemed to be turning out.

Damn - I hate when I'm right about the bad things.

More tests to come for the cat; I'm in for the amount of what, $1,200.00 total at this juncture? Of which I've paid off 75% of the bills, but at the exclusion of a lot of other things. I guess I'll just run the tab until I cry... Penny pinching's in my future!

There was an "Ask Harriet" column the other day that I should take to mind:

DEAR HARRIETTE: I've been in love with a man for much of my adult life. Part of me feels like an idiot. I have loved and chosen him, but my love has not been reciprocated - he sees me as a friend, not a partner. I have yet to figure out how to be neutral with him. I know it's nuts, but I love him. He is my friend. Sure, I long for more. But is there something I can do to sever my feelings? - Ann, Cambridge, Miss.

Dear Ann: Love is life's wild card. When it is real, it simply is. It doesn't diminish. It lives within your being. So, unlike many of your friends who have told you to deny your feelings, I will not do that. Your feelings for this man are likely quite authentic.
The other side of this situation is also authentic: Your friend did not choose you in the same way you chose him. Painful? Yes. Something you need to accept? Yes. Otherwise, you will allow your feelings to guide your steps. And that can, in a case such as yours, lead to ruin.
It is impossible sometimes for people to believe that their love could be rejected. However, we all face acceptance and rejection, usually multiple times in life. To recover, you must accept your life as it is, including that this man is only available to be your friend. Tell your heart this is the truth. Then allow space for romantic love to enter from another source.

I don't know if it can be called being obssessed over Mr. W. and all. I miss him, it makes me sad that I can't have the slightest contact with him, that he rejected me. I was happy while I was with him. When I get down about things it's about EVERYTHING that could make a person feel bad... I feel defeated, I want to give up. I have distress, not pain but I wish I didn't have to feel it just the same. For almost the whole time I was with him, I didn't have the episodes of wishing that I was dead, I didn't feel hopeless, I was happy that I was with him, and now I'm back to the selftold mantras of "I wish I was dead", "I hate my life, a behavior that popped up to defuse the pain I feel on a moment to moment basis.

The worst pain is to not be wanted. You're just not good enough to keep...I wonder how much interest there really was? Second worst pain is a tie between getting used/realizing that you're being used.

Wednesday, January 16, 2008

Last night at work, I ended up with a pinched nerve on the left side of my neck. It started out as just uncomfortable and progressed to the "I must swivel my upper torso to look at things" level of discomfort. By the time I got home, it was painful, but I figured that I'd just go sleep and let it do whatever it was going to do. I stopped to speak with Mom who'd had a doctor's appointment earlier in the day for a pain in her hip. I was glad that she'd finally gone to get it checked out, and I was just going to settle in for the night when she noticed that I was favoring the neck pain. Well, there goes Mom to the rescue. She offered to rub my back, my neck - all the maternal fussing that can make you cringe because you're an adult now, aren't you? You don't need Mommy to take care of you...

After a few mins I told her it was ok, and even tried to fake out with a "Look! I can move!" behavior. She stopped, but then noticed that I was still having limited motion and she accused me of lying, you're not ok, it's still bothering you! LoL. So she rubbed again and this time, I just submitted. Let my head rest against her and let Mommy try to make it all better. I teared up some: it was nice to have her try to help, she always does so much and is not appreciated for it. It was also the first time in four months that anyone's touched me. I switched out the light so that she couldn't see my tears welling up, and said goodnight. I cried in my room for a little while and then went to bed.

Tuesday, January 15, 2008

Spending all week after-hours at work to get the paperwork ready for the auditors. I switch between feeling the urgency to get the task done, and well, just crying at the desk for missing M. W. and still on the email reading trip. Crying at home too. For shorter amounts of time, but just as miserable in the intensity. Again and's really settling in this misery. Four plus months...the last email was the the end of September 07. Focusing myself on the email content and forcing myself to tell myself how badly he treated me, how he really pushed that keep your distance attitude... I can't even ask to go back to what it was because it wasn't me that left, and there's no hope of him giving in. Just no hope. So that's how I'm stuck between missing him and knowing there's no relief to be found. Read something that says everyone has a point in a bad relationship where they either tell or don't tell themselves the truth that they know it's going the way of the bad. If it was so good, stupid, why're you miserable?!

Mr. A. continues to contact me. For lack of anything to say, I tell him candidly the facts that I'm depressed and on happy pills. He tells me, oh how he had to take some when his father died, so he can understand. Always swings back to how about sex with him though... So the problem is it's no libio? he'll ask. If it isn't, then maybe sex will relax me, make me feel better. He's not getting the message that it's no interest in him. There's no nice way to tell him that I'm sunk into despair because I desperately miss Mr. W. and that it's mainly about another guy and not him. I make some half-hearted arrangement that yeah, we'll get together and we can maybe watch porn together. Sure, sure. Woo-hoo, not so exciting a plan to me, dude. I'd probably have a better time by myself than with him. And be way ahead on my own too: I'd get some O's, not have to travel and not have to spend a dime or work for no reward either.

The bus on the route home passes by me at 12 midnight and I'll think of Mr. W. The car commercials that used the word "duh" as their advertising schtick. The shopping plaza that I'd met him at: can't go back there, can't travel the bus route there either. Phil Collins music, Bon Jovi music that I burned Cd's of for him. Not even interested in eating most italian foods that I used to have, that I would treat him to. Food at Wendy's. I shared flan I'd made with him, bought kosher chocolate rugelach, I made from scratch arborio rice pudding just for him. Having new email to read almost everyday in the beginning ... and now silence, everyday. This awful stinging pain in my gut when I miss him, and the teary-eyed regretful thoughts that accompany missing him. I often entertain stalker-crazy notions of just going to seek him out, give him that book, return that giftcard with wounded dignity, ask for an explanation of why, meet his mom, get the fairy tale dream fulfilled of closure - or that he's missed me too!, email his forwarded email contacts, find his black van, prove that I'm so smart to be able to find the place...and the thought of real rejection makes me cower, of being looked at as "That girl", the nut. Of finding out things that'd hurt more.

Mr. W. I would have loved you if you'd let me.

Monday, January 7, 2008

Been taking Fatcat to the vet in earnest to see about how he can be made whole again. He's just not going the right way: losing weight, a walking poop-bomb in the house, and wailing at odd moments in the halls. The family's starting to get exasperated with his chronic illness status. So far, I'm out over $500 for the vet bills and cruel irony there's no cure in sight. sigh. It's only money. I know that I'll feel worse if I saved the dollar only to have Fatcat drop dead (and there's the bill for that too!)

I've got the doctor's exam tomorrow for myself. Did all the steps of the test prep...unpleasant business indeed. Now I'm ravenous, but can't eat anything for hours more to come. I'll have to think of what I can have tomorrow in yo-yo binge mode after I'm cut loose. Coconut cravings in the forefront...

Last night, in a sort of last meal frenzy, I made "Osso Bucco" and butter drenched corn grits/polenta. I'd wanted to make both for the longest, and they came out very well. In typical overkill planning, I made a huge tray of meat. Not just the classic beef shin meat, but with short rib flanken meat looked so nice at the market that I tossed it in to cook. When else am I going to braise meat like this again? I cooked it for the family and they liked it...I guess I wish I had someone really special to cook for.

Once I was done, and planning on going to bed...I happened to start to cry for missing Mr. W. again. Just flat out couldn't stop this time. I'm feeling defeated ... it's not getting better, and I just keep hurting. I only wanted to be with someone, I liked him so much and it...I...wasn't enough to be worth keeping. How am I supposed to pick myself up after that. Seeing other people, it's not even envy anymore, it's just flinch away from seeing it cause it hurts me.

Wednesday, January 2, 2008

Still keeping on with reading the old emails from Mr. W. It's strangely affecting and often I will just start crying while reading them. Yeah,'s wallowing and you're supposed to not linger over the things you have to remind yourself about a person after a break-up. I think it's cathartic at the very least. There's something so not right about how I practically have an email a day to look at, but it's all just one year ago. Where did that person go? I don't know. And there's no answer as to a reason why.

I read some advice today about how to deal with failure. Don't see it as "Oh no!" but turn it into "Oh well." and move on. Slowly it becomes that to me as I get by day to day. The world didn't stop, things still need to get done and there's no collapsing in a heap o' grief. Just little time-outs for the misery to well up and then get right back into ... doing nothing.

The other night, I was out on New Year's Eve - about six-ish, not too too crazy to think that I could get to a local Petco and get a crate for the sick cat. Wrong. No businesses stay open I guess. Got to the door and immediately got a "We're closed dear." from a female employee. Nice waste of a trip, and I didn't even argue it. Guess I won't be back though. Nyah.

Walked down a few blocks to catch the same bus back in a fast round trip to nowhere. From my seat on the bus, as it maneuvered into traffic, I eyed someone on the street scoffing a Cinnabon cinnamon roll from a takeout container: god, I won't be able to have a cinnamon roll if I want one. The thought made me feel so regretful that this was life as a diabetic. No more indulgences, not unless you pay the consequences. Drat.
Long time no post. Too busy, too indifferent to care. Holidays are done with. Received Nintendo DS Lego Star Wars The Complete Saga and have put 35 hours into playing it's mindless goodness. Thanks Sis! What's the current state of personal affairs?

Lessee...I went to the doctors for an endoscopy on 12/21 to delve into the matter of why I was getting that liver pain. I've had sonograms run on the carotid arteries and abdomenal area. Of course they found nothing in that neck of the woods and they made me stop most of my meds and I since haven't had any reoccurrence of the pain (thankfully!). I went for the test alone, they have a small room off to the side and I really don't recall the actual moment of going under sedation. I do recall the three people in the room: the doctor, the anesthesiologist, and the male nurse all looking at me as they waited for it to kick in. Had time to observe (all prepped and such.) that it was funny they were all looking at me waiting for me to fall asleep. The male nurse woke me when it was done; mainly it felt like sleep without the fuzziness that you have from waking up groggy. There was just the sensation of not having moved in awhile. I was fine upon first waking, but the sedative must have a depressive effect as I suddenly started leaking tears...The nurse was asking me why I was crying and I could only sniffle a guess of it being due to my not taking the happy pills that day. The effect lasted for about half an hour and they were turning me loose on the street anyway. This same nurse guy is nice, but he keeps insisting that I'm diabetic, and that's a jangle to my ego. I've been blood testing my sugar for two weeks now and the ranges are not at all bad: and I'm off the meds to boot! It's my thinking more on the PCOS as the culprit here - Freaking Hormones! They're outta control and up to no good and not to my benefit.

Being that they didn't find anything, and I had specific information regarding my pain attacks, I agreed to set up for an colonoscopy. I think they they are going to find something thataway...and they are setting me up for a diagnosis of possible cancer somewhere. That's worse case scenario of course. I did have some issues in the past that I observed and never really checked into it. Now I've come up as being anemic and there's positive sign of blood being shed somehow. So it's never good news.

As part of my depressive personality, I used to wish for death to find me, so maybe now it's a courtesy call. Gallows humor, if nothing else.

I am having lower intensity upsets re: Mr. W. I still miss him terribly. It's going on four months, and I still suffer. I feel so worthless, and it's a pervasive feeling. I should try to blame it on him, but I haven't had the heart to do so. No interest in seeing anyone yet, but god, I miss sex. There's been that Mr. A. occasionally inquiring if I'd like to go meet with him, but frankly it stinks with him and I'd rather not settle for anymore crappy times at this point. I told him that I've been depressed and continue to deflect his hints. He's part of the Jerky group as he's only calling when he's looking to meet. I suppose it's my turn to exercise the "if they're interested, they'll be there" option. Since I do all the work with no reward, there's zero incentive for me to even consider him anymore. Cold bitch, huh? Next, I'll be telling him in detail exactly what it is about him that's not working for me, LoL.

Fatcat's been sick again. A stealthy poop-bomber in all areas of the house. Mom and Dad abruptly piped up at dinner one night that I should "get rid of the cat. Take it to the ASPCA." This coldness doesn't surprise me, he's only a poor sick and dumb animal. I guess they never really change that mindset that animals are expendable. And this is Fatcat, the one that in better times they were affectionately calling "fat pig" in Cantonese. I hauled him to a new vet office by Prospect Park. It's another round of, well we don't find anything wrong with him: here's your 300 plus bill. I heard from the vet again, he's not sounding very positive, and wants to do exploratory surgery to diagnose the problem. This means a lot of dollars to be spent, and I just throw my hands up in defeat...sure, what's 7 or 8 hundred dollars only for you to tell me the cat is incurable or going to die? Bastards. Gave me some of the same medicine that the ASPCA had given me, and there's a little response at this time. I really hope that there's something to be done for the poor little beast.

I cried at work today. The work is getting dumped more and more on me without any discussion of how I should handle it. It's so unfair. I had to take so much BS today; it hit me in an aftershock and I started to cry in the middle of doing something at my desk. If it happened in the past, I'd go to the restroom to compose myself; 90% of the time, they'd never know I was even going through trauma. Hell, I've lost TWO major relationships and they have not the slightest clue. (One person asked if I was coming down with a cold once as I sniffeled through being upset.) I worked right through that crying jag today... I defiantly let the boss see that I was suffering. He was making me hate him. I hope it made him squirm a little for the misery, the sheer misery I feel trapped in. He didn't know what to say to me, he told me to take a minute, and I mumbled, "I'm having too much stress." It subsided eventually, and no further mention of it was made. Oh, when he left he was trying to chat me up to see what was wrong earlier in the day; I only volunteered the information that the cat was ill. I have to take a city test on Saturday that may decide a career change for me. Whenever I have second thoughts about taking the opportunity if it comes, they do something at work to strengthen my resolve to go ahead.

I may not even get something good, may not even want to take the chance of losing medical coverage at this stage...Odds are that I'll get stuck in a gap and end up suffering/dying because of it. Yay. I am back to the behavior of saying to myself, I wish I was dead. Just to stop feeling the pain.