The Adventures of Paisley
Blue
This morning I am feeling happy again but the last 24 hours have been like an emotional roller coaster. I left work during the middle of the day yesterday to go to the doctor and that went pretty well. The doctor was happy with the progress I have made in taking care of myself in terms of my diabetes. She also referred me to a podiatrist because of a painful spot on my right foot.
One of my coworkers has been giving me fits this week, and I think I finally figured out her game. My supervisor is out for the week, and I am guessing that this coworker thinks I am fair game without the boss to "protect" me. I will not allow her to walk over me, and I can even see myself "fighting back" if she doesn't back off. However, I am determined to be the professional here. I will handle it diplomatically... but this girl has no idea what I can do.
Most of the time I am pretty much what people think I am... quiet, kind, sweet, perhaps even innocent in a few ways. It takes nearly forever to get me really riled up, but consider the fact that this particular woman has been doing these little stunts for nine long months. I'm riled up.
By the end of the day yesterday, though, I had gone through countless experiences of not remembering things (ex. "Don't you remember I told you that yesterday?") or just not understanding something that is said (ex. "What do you mean by that?"). By bedtime I was just so frustrated with my brain. Then, lying next to Michael, we were talking about furniture and he mentioned a certain kind of bed he'd like to have one day and I did not know what it was. When I asked him what it was, he asked me what it sounded like. So I told him the mental image that came to my mind from the name of the furniture. By his reaction I knew the first one was not right, so I gave another idea. He sighed, and explained to me what it was.
I tried to sound normal, saying "I would like to try that one day." But the pain inside became overwhelming. My heart was shouting internally "I HATE my brain!!!" Tears came to my eyes, and I tried hard to fight them back. Usually in bed I lie facing Michael, but I turned to my back and turned my head away in an effort to hide the tears. When they kept falling faster, I turned away from him completely, calling upon every ounce of will to stifle the sobs so he would not be disturbed.
A few moments later I felt his hand on my back, and he softly asked what was wrong. When asked pointblank like that, I always answer honestly, even though I felt embarrassed and humiliated by my weakness. I don't remember exactly what I said, but it tumbled out of me, all my feelings and how I hate my memory and wondering if there would ever be a day in my life when I didn't feel stupid.
Well, he wasn't going to stand for me feeling sorry for myself. Even now, in the light of day the next morning, I don't understand whether the pain I was feeling was actually "feeling sorry for myself." However, he offered me some examples of why I am not stupid -- my computer savvy, the way I do my job at work so well -- and then he turned on the lights and said "Let's have a cigarette."
Butch knocked on our door and joined us. We all chatted while we smoked, and then it was time to go to bed again. My eyes stung from the earlier tears but my heart felt a lot lighter. Before we went to sleep, I asked him how he knew that something was wrong. He said that I was lying facing away from him, on the edge of the bed, when usually I am much closer and facing him. He said, "I'm not stupid, and neither are you. Don't ever let anyone tell you that you are."
I fell asleep swearing that I would not feel sorry for myself again... even though I wasn't sure that's what I was doing. However, I have the added bonus of two therapists in my life, and I can explore that issue.
This morning on the way to work, Angel rode with us because she needed to take the car back to Kent. Michael was relating that about 3:30 this morning I was lying on my back with my arms behind my head, sleeping soundly and snoring. He says that he softly called my name and said, "Roll over on your side." Apparently I answered "Okay" and promptly rolled over on my side, and quit snoring.
He said it was so funny it was all he could do to not laugh out loud. Watching him imitate my small "Okay" was pretty funny, too. You know, Michael brings so much laughter into my life, so much love, and I just treasure every day we have together.
He calls this mushy stuff so instead of boring him with it, I pour it out here in my journal. Sometimes I wonder what would happen if he found this website... but I have to keep this journal because I think otherwise I would burst. I do tend to hold things inside. Everyone comments on how quiet I am. Can you imagine if I let all this out? I can't.
Well, maybe little by little, I can.
~Paisley Blue |
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