I wrote this in a group I was supposed to be paying attention to. Something really caught my attention and I found myself in a place I haven’t seen in years. Blessed and understanding. I was close to God. I’d like to spend more time there.
© Michelle Routhieaux 2019
1/10/2018
© Michelle Routhieaux 2018
7/17/17
© Michelle Routhieaux 2017
2/24/17
© Michelle Routhieaux 2017
1/16/17
© Michelle Routhieaux 2017
12/28/16
© Michelle Routhieaux 2016
12/21/16
© Michelle Routhieaux 2016
8/8/16
© Michelle Routhieaux 2016
12/21/2015
© Michelle Routhieaux 2015
10/27/15
© Michelle Routhieaux 2015
9-27-10 10:25am
I’m struggling this morning to find the motivation to take a shower. It’s been over a week. There is a show on the television about elephants in Bali. My mom is asleep. We’re supposed to be at dog training in a half hour. I don’t want to go.
Something is wrong with me. I am weak, lethargic, having episodes of tachycardia, muscle spasms in my back and head. My headaches have returned. My blood pressure is spotty. I know some of this can be attributed to stress but not all. I’m having this thing where the muscles in my face pull my eyes open wide and make it difficult to blink. So I don’t blink often and then my contacts get dried out. It hurts and when I do close my eyes it’s hard to open them. Consequently, I fall asleep. This has happened several times while driving. Yesterday I almost hit a car in traffic. It comes on quick and is often preceded several hours by happiness/euphoria. Yesterday I felt sincere joy and cried happy tears although I have no idea why. I made an appt with my chiropractor today. In this process, there are few if any thoughts in my head.
I’ve at least been thinking about blogging lately, even if I haven’t done it. That’s a step up from forgetting I have a blog. I saw my new psychiatrist a few weeks ago and she seems nice and competent. I don’t know what to do… I’m tired. So tired. A better word would be lethargic. I had apple and peanut butter for breakfast. Thank God for honeycrisp apple season. Lets work it in.
I have to go. I’m having trouble staying upright to type. Just checking in. Oh, I made reservations for CLOG National in Reno. I’m excited. Something positive to look forward to.
© Michelle Routhieaux 2014
12/2/12 9:54pm
I’m having a really hard time.
My muscles are fighting me.
Round after round of sustained contractions in my back, stomach, left arm.
Almost constant moderate to severe head pain. Small windows of reprieve. Weakness that makes it difficult to breathe, move.
My brain feels heavy, paralyzed.
It’s hard to think.
My mood is up and down. Sometimes euphoric or elated. Others suicidally depressed. Small periods of effective work. Minutes. Trouble standing. Pain sleeping. I wake up thrashing, throwing my head back and forth. My left hip keeps popping out. My wrist is improving slightly from the fall.
I can’t hear my stream of thoughts.
I can’t feel my feelings.
I don’t want to shop.
It’s 10pm & I’ve been ready to sleep for hours.
Hours…
Hours.
I need to sleep.
Some days I wonder how long this can go on. The voice in my head says “forever.” My history says usually about 2 weeks. When I’m in it I think it will never end. When I’m out I forget what it’s like. Right now I watch NCIS.
(stare)
I have sharp pains in my muscles too.
Happy Sunday. (weary grin)
(eat chicken rice)
My organs get in on the action.
My heart, bladder & bowels. My stomach.
My eyes.
(stare)
I started talking to a recorder on my phone. I’ve yet to transcribe. Feels good. Eventually they’ll be on the blog.
I’m really glad I write.
–
Mom’s boyfriend is going back to New York tomorrow. I don’t want him to go. We’re not buddy buddy but I like him. And he makes her happy. The house will be quiet without him. I feel lonely.
J’s back in town. (It feels good to write.) I haven’t seen him yet. He texts me on and off. I don’t want to see him. It was good while it was good. And it was bad when it wasn’t. It was better when he left. It will be better when it’s over. His texts and actions and inactions and lies make me angry. I’m proud of myself for keeping my boundaries and for knowing and believing at my core that the ending does not devalue the good. I just can’t do it anymore.
He’s texting now. I feel frustrated. I can hear the sales-pitch in his tone. I feel bad because I think he honestly doesn’t know or understand. I love him. I want the best for him. I want him to grow up. We can play, but I can’t be his mother. I can’t be his God. And I can’t be his taker.
I haven’t written in so long it’s like unclogging a pipe – the one from my hand to my brain. Reconnecting with an old friend. I do not control what comes out. I just watch.
My brain and body are fading. less pain. falling asleep. NCIS is like family.
My eyes feel glazed in plastic.
My feet are tingling. My tongue is curled.
My back needs to crack.
I’d like to paint my nails but my muscles are too weak. It’s better than being cramped.
I wonder what my Potassium level is.
I feel like I have to keep writing even though I have nothing to say. And I have to pee. Hmmm…
© Michelle Routhieaux 2012
Writing Towards Happy 