Chaos in the Chorus

9-10-14     11:26pm

I knew it had been awhile since I blogged but I didn’t realize it had been almost 2 months. 

So what happened 2 months ago? Dr. N, my psychiatrist and main support person, told me he took a different job and can no longer be my doctor. He explained the situation and I understand but it’s fucking me up. This is the first time I’ve experienced real grief. I don’t know what to do with it. At first I couldn’t stop crying and carried around the means to kill myself. Then I shut down. Then it would hit me in waves. All of last week I was bitchy and angry. This week I just sit and stare. I was supposed to see him yesterday but he cancelled to pick up family from LAX. I’m concerned about him and his family because his home country is Syria. That place has gone to shit.

I’m tired. I’m so tired. The sky is falling. I struggle to dance in the rain. The moon is under construction and it’s raining Starbursts.

My mom had cataract surgery on both eyes. She can see now and is fascinated with colors. We are working on decluttering the house. Our dog is amazing. I’ve decided to train her in French. Mom doesn’t buy it. I went to Harvest Crusade with Mom and my friend T and rededicated my life to Christ. I’m reading the Bible when I can. I keep praying. I feel my problems are insignificant compared to others’ but it’s the intensity of emotion that bothers me more than the stuff. I also started watching two little girls. They make my day every time I see them. One is 8 months old and the other is 2 and 1/2 and has autism. Mom is helping and it’s a good time to bond and learn.

The word “transition” keeps coming up. Everyone says I’m in “transition.” I’ve come to view it as an evil word. What does it even mean? The shitty, unorganized period of time between two or more important events? I feel selfish for having such an intense reaction/response to the situations in my life when those less fortunate can say nothing. I have a home. I have family. I just got approved for SSDI. I’m driving now. I finally have a room that feels good to me. I worked over a year saving up money for a new mattress and putting art up on the walls. Now it feels like me. Butterflies and tranquility.

My thoughts really haven’t been coming to me. They are either nowhere to be found or showing up in pictures. There is chaos in the chorus and sometimes I can’t even hear the thoughts. I just hear the cadence, the timing. Last night 7 had so much she just needed to get OUT so I walked around the parking lot after DBT talking to the moon. She’s so scared. 

Yoga therapy has been really great. It’s exactly what I need. A quiet space to explore me with someone who cares. An opportunity to move my body, to listen to it. I am so grateful for Soleil. I found a new friend at group too. Her mom hates me but that’s okay. She is fun. She reminds me a lot of me when I was her age. I want to be free. 

Right now it’s Comfort Drive time – the 3rd year I’ve done it. I’m concerned because there aren’t many donations coming in and usually it’s a flood. I’m too tired to hit the pavement so I wait and pray. This current situation has me praying a lot, relying on faith when I usually wouldn’t. I don’t have the answers. I don’t know why. Dr. N said I’m a fixer and this can’t be fixed. Then what do you do with it? 

I recently tried Amitiza for my stomach. I took it for about 3 weeks. Then I stopped because it caused debilitating, mind-numbing pain for me. Head pain, burning face, lack of thought, super weak, can’t stay awake, can’t breathe pain. My head feels much better. Now if I could only get the…  (falling asleep)

I really like the little girls. They make me happy, even when they’re sad.

I have to go. I’m literally falling asleep at the computer. Just wanted you to know I haven’t forgotten you. I want to write and I want to blog but I’m not writing much and what I am is not internet-friendly. I managed to hurt my shoulder somehow while thrashing around in my sleep. I really should get it checked. Feels like someone is cutting me with a knife when I reach for anything. 

© Michelle Routhieaux 2014

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