A checkup this morning (gotta love surprise house calls on a Saturday morning, thank you Caleb for setting that up) leaves me with the all-clear. My lungs sound good finally. My post-nasal drip is gone and the lingering shortness of breath is easily remedied for a few hours at a time with my inhaler.
So....yay me, I think. Progress is good. Healing is wonderful.
Not a plug or a sponsored anything, I hate that shit but I lay in bed this morning playing on the #selfcare app. It's soothing visually and audibly but in a weird way it distracts me from my emotions because it's glitchy. Like I end up picking up the clothes over and over again and have to restart multiple times and then stop touching the clothes for it to work but I like it.
And I'm not into apps as means to fix what ails my broken head and heart. I rely on talking, drugs and mindless repetitive forced rethinking. Joel had a name for it. Changing how I deal with things. I don't remember what it was called but I still do it because if I can grab something out of the ether I can do okay. When I stop moving and turn inward I fall in those holes. Life is a minefield already tripped and I twist my ankles as I go.
For my reward Caleb took me out for eggs Benedict and hash browns and then asked if he could stick around for the day. He worries something fierce but not as much as Lochlan, who collected me on the way back into the house and said no. We have plans. We're taking Ruth to finish getting her supplies and textbooks for her school year and then we're hopefully going to finish Ozark because I'm anxious to see how it ends before it gets spoiled for me somehow. We started American Horror Story: Apocalypse last night and it's SO GOOD. So I could happily spend the rest of this rainy Saturday watching TV and continuing to get better. I'll never finish picking up my laundry in #selfcare though. Please email me if you've tried it and tell me what I'm doing wrong.
So....yay me, I think. Progress is good. Healing is wonderful.
Not a plug or a sponsored anything, I hate that shit but I lay in bed this morning playing on the #selfcare app. It's soothing visually and audibly but in a weird way it distracts me from my emotions because it's glitchy. Like I end up picking up the clothes over and over again and have to restart multiple times and then stop touching the clothes for it to work but I like it.
And I'm not into apps as means to fix what ails my broken head and heart. I rely on talking, drugs and mindless repetitive forced rethinking. Joel had a name for it. Changing how I deal with things. I don't remember what it was called but I still do it because if I can grab something out of the ether I can do okay. When I stop moving and turn inward I fall in those holes. Life is a minefield already tripped and I twist my ankles as I go.
For my reward Caleb took me out for eggs Benedict and hash browns and then asked if he could stick around for the day. He worries something fierce but not as much as Lochlan, who collected me on the way back into the house and said no. We have plans. We're taking Ruth to finish getting her supplies and textbooks for her school year and then we're hopefully going to finish Ozark because I'm anxious to see how it ends before it gets spoiled for me somehow. We started American Horror Story: Apocalypse last night and it's SO GOOD. So I could happily spend the rest of this rainy Saturday watching TV and continuing to get better. I'll never finish picking up my laundry in #selfcare though. Please email me if you've tried it and tell me what I'm doing wrong.