This and that

◾ The woman in the commercial for contact lenses reminds me of Arthur Ashe when she puts her glasses on.

◾ I wonder if the powers that be have been working on security for the midterm elections. That story has been lost in the tsunami of recent stories.

◾ My heart failure number has dropped from the last blood work done. I wonder how a heart failure number can improve. Logic says is gets worse over time, not better.

◾ I wish I did not use food as a comfort or a reward. Just say no works about as well for food addictions as it does for drugs, which is to say not at all.

◾ I have the concentration of a 3-year-old lately. I have acquired well over 20 books and though I have started a half dozen of them, I cannot seem to finish any. In fact, a couple of chapters is about the maximum for any of the books I have started.

◾ I need to get a new shower head. The used handheld model had a plastic part that attached the metal hose to the place the water comes out. The plastic broke and so the handheld unit is unusable. I have thought about duct tape, but new heads are pretty cheap. So ... now I have to order it.

Wasted days and wasted nights

I wish I could quit eating when I am bored or lonely or any of a thousand excuses I make to myself. I weigh less now than I did when I was in high school and would like to stay this weight. But I make excuses and eat even when I am not hungry.

I never see anyone and I quit Twitter recently because of a video showing a poor animal gasping for breath as the blood gushed and pooled around it. It had been sacrificed in the name of some religion.

I wrote my will today. Handwritten wills are accepted here. There were no surprises since I have told those mentioned in the will what I wanted and how I wanted my possessions divided.

I will be 70 in a couple of weeks. I don't feel that old in many ways, but all you have to do is look at my skin, my hair, my body to know that yes indeed I am that old. I have outlived several of my high school classmates which is really pretty remarkable considering my PH and the things I put my body through when I was younger.

I carry a burden of guilt, too, for things I did.

Replacing life

I lost almost 40 pounds when I was in the hospital nine months ago. I vowed not to gain the weight back. I have been doing pretty well counting calories and trying to eat lots of veggies, some fruit and some protein. I found graham crackers, which only have 130 calories for two full sheets.
The past few days, I have been eating to replace having a life complete with friends. I eat, then I feel bad. I am stuffed and then I feel guilty. I do not want to regain the weight but eating seems like I am punishing myself. Graham crackers are sweet and crunchy and I find it hard to cut them off at two full sheets. The answer: no more graham crackers.

Living on the edge

I am one of those lonely old women. Days go by without seeing anyone. I turn off my phone; no one calls anyway.

I go to the grocery store. On those trips, I put up my facade and act like I matter. Sometimes I order delivery. I am polite while at the same time try to hurry the delivery man on his way. The talk disrupts my isolation -- my sense of comfort in the aloneness.

Somehow I accumulated three-and-a-half bottles of anxiety medicine -- close to a thousand pills. I informed the pa I did not need any more, but she had problems that day and ordered still more. The depression medication does not work like it should, even with a second medication added. I physically ache when I am depressed. I take an anxiety pill and sleep for three or four hours. I eat something. I try to watch tv or read. I take my nights meds and sleep more. The cycle goes on unbroken.

I harbor many regrets about my life. The guilt I carry weighs me down. I never forget what a failure I am, how I fell short in almost every facet of my life. How I wasted the chances I had. Maybe I punish myself  for these sins.

No cheer this year

Another Christmas alone. The choice was mine. I wish I felt differently. Maybe being alone is akin to cutting myself.

If I could, I would sleep and then sleep some more. The problem: sleeping does not change life. Life just moves along without you. Then you have to catch up and in doing so, you have to face what you avoided when you slept.

You cannot run away from yourself.

No exit

Halp! I can't make my blues go away. I need to do so much away from home. The car needs washing, I should have mailed mom a birthday card, but even if I sent the card now, she would not get it in time. Momo needs some liquidy cat food. He gags when I offer people food. I have a few cans left, but if he will like the juice is a toss up. And the cat food I barely has juice. The car needs gasoline. I need to check my mail, which I have not done in a week.
Why can't I make myself get dressed and go do these things?
Halp!

This is me

I have considered killing myself. I even know how I would do it. You see, I am at times in such pain, that I would do anything to make the pain go away. I feel guilty about something most of the time. My cat is dying. I tried force feeding him and he tore into me and he won't take the syringe of food in his mouth. It ended up all over his fur, a blanket and me. I spent lots of money trying to figure out what was wrong with him, but there was not really a conclusion. He just won't eat. So, slowly, he is dying and I feel guilty that I can't save him.

Then my cousin tells me how she saved some kittens by giving them Ensure drop by drop for hours during the day. She saved the kittens. She also mentioned another cat she saved that lived five years longer. Rather than taking what she said as encouragement or just conversation, I took it as criticism in my efforts with my cat. The guilt of not being as good as she was made me feel like a bad person.

I isolate myself. I have been asked to go do things with friends, but at the last minute, I cannot make myself go. I tell them I cannot make myself go and then feel guilty that I have hurt their feelings. After being turned down numerous times, my friends quit asking. Then I feel unworthy and guilty that I treated them that way.

I wasn't always this way. I was shy, but I did go places and do things. I have always had the guilt, but the older I get, the more guilt I feel.

The guilt gives way to anxiety which becomes depression. I take medicine for the anxiety and the depression, but it does not always work.

I know we all have problems. Some of us cope better than others. To some, the problems are a bump in the road, to others they are a giant hole.

Mental health problems can be dealt with if there are enough professionals. I've tried two. Neither were right for me. I tried calling a psychologist. She laughed and told me it would be at least two years before she could work me in. TWO YEARS.

I apologize if I have shown you too much of myself. If you want to unfriended me, that is your right, and I cannot blame you.

In the meantime, I grasp at the threads that keep me from falling into the abyss.