Theology and Bad Trips

"Why are we having such an awful time today?" Ron lamented "What is wrong?"

"Well," I told him "I guess somebody got saved out of that last Bible Handout - and Bad Things are furious!"  For once, Ron actually agreed with my theology.

If you care to hear it; here's Ron's theology.  Ron loves God, accepts Jesus' death on the cross, is saved.   His feels, since he's saved, he's had "enough trouble" in life and deserves to get taken up to Heaven, one way or another.  Ron also deserves an "easier" life, being saved, and God refuses to oblige him.  Because God refuses to do so, He is "Torture Man" or "Torch" for short.  Boy, I heard both names A LOT today.  Ron is happy to share God, ranges from neutral to supportive as regards my evangelism, and doesn't usually impede me.  He finds the concept of prayer and Bible study "pointless" and interrupts me frequently when I do my God Time, unless I shout repeated reminders.  "I'm doing my God Time!"  "Oh, sorry!  Tell Him to hurry up!"

My theology, in a paragraph: Jesus loves me so much He died for me.  I accept His gift of salvation, and do my best to live a moral life because I know that's pleasing to Him.  God wants me to share His message with everyone, so I do, however He directs me.  I pray and study my Bible daily, because I want to understand Him and do His will.  In the Bible, I am specifically promised a hard time:  John 16:33
These things I have spoken to you, that in Me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation; but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world.”

So, I expect a hard time.  In fact, I use my trials as an "effectiveness thermometer" - if I have a lot of hassles, I figure I am doing a "Good Job" for God and therefore pissing off "Bad Things".  Bad Things being demonic entities, that exist to harass and torment believers and unreached, alike.  Where Ron sees disappointments and unanswered prayers; I see all the good things God is constantly pouring out for us.  

As you can see, some big differences.  Ron and I had some major fights; until God let me know He could defend Himself.  I just disagree with Ron when he's on a tirade and he agrees that of course I love "Torch", makes a disparaging remark, and changes the subject.  

I am also well aware the devil often uses Ron to attack me.  

Our first trip was pretty awful and I was very nearly late to my doctor's appointment.  No one's fault, just "bad trips".  

Ron wanted to talk to Metrolift, but had consistent problems getting through, for over an hour.  He was very aggravated.  Happily, I was off in my doctor's office talking to the student.  

I love students.  Doc likes me because I am "very stable", informed, self-aware, and willing to talk.  So, I did, not much.  I said I'm a little manic, but I'd rather be manic than depressed.  He agreed.  We talked about my lithium level for a while, and dosing.  He likes how I take all 4, at once, with my big meal.  I said all my other doses were fine, so he wrote new prescriptions.  

Then I left.  Ron was pretty awful for about an hour, trying to do the transportation thing.  Eventually we ate at the deli and got our ride home.  

Oh, my new "Frizz serum" was nice.  I really liked what it did for my hair - it really did keep it nice and smooth.  I'm glad I got it, and will probably get another.  I like how my hair feels nice and clean, and smooth.  The humidity makes it frizz a little.  

We finally got home.  I was exhausted - not just the medication, but all the stress of dealing with Ron and his black cloud of doom.   I would so, so, love to put him on antidepressants.  As of now, he refuses.  I just bet a Wellbutrin every day or so would...  [sigh]  See, this is where I take it to God, and say, Lord, if you want Ron on antidepressants please help it happen.  

Then I leave it alone.  

When I got home, I made sad noises out into the garage until Bubba came out and took a nap with me.  He's a sweet boy.  I sure love him.  We had a good nap.  

I plan to relax tonight.  We have to work tomorrow, but not long.  

Have a good weekend!  (((Hugs)))

Farmer's Tan

I was discussing New Orleans with someone today, and ended up pretty upset.

Suffice to say, after Katrina, I did not see the best citizens, New Orleans had to offer.  [snerk]  So, I have a very bad case of NIMBY - not in my backyard.  The rest of the city feels that way, too, and I am CERTAIN our mayor will not re-enact the Katrina fiasco.  I understand getting back on your feet, but choosing not to work for years, because you have free housing, utilities, and food stamps?  Then whining when they cut you off, after 2 years?

If you've read my blog from 2008, you know I had a pretty hard time, and I had ZERO outside help.
POD envy
In Sickness - don't forget that "ailment" progressed to a crippling neuropathy that has Ron in bed, at home.  He only gets up to eat and use the bathroom.

I had all that - and then the hurricane.  Good thing I had my faith.

I did find it interesting, I saw Mississippi and Louisiana plates, in the Walmart parking lot, as we left today.  Smart people.  Good old Houston: Give me your evacuees.

Oh, speaking of Walmart.  Our ride was late.  We only had a half hour.  I put Ron on the bench to wait.

I went shopping.  I need travel-size bottles, wet wipes, etc.  I wanted a new baseball cap.  I like to wear them on sunny days (often), with a different color for various moods.  I have a bright yellow, and a navy I wear primarily now.

The baseball caps didn't happen.  I got bogged down in skincare.  My skin is still a little raw and sore, on my arms and face, from the sunburn.  I have some Native blood - how much is unclear, but say about 1/16 at least (on one side).  It's enough to keep me from burning - most days.

It's weird, when I fold my arms across my chest, the chest and arms look like they belong to 2 different people.  Not that I'm putting up a photo!

[snort]  I wonder how many hits that would get?  I will say, I have a HUGE farmer's tan.

Skincare - I realized I was feeling very foggy and could't capture my thoughts.  It wasn't mania - I was just very scattered and, I guess, ADD.  I had a hard time focusing on what I needed to do, and doing it.

I did wonder, after I got home,  how my IQ would have tested out like that.  Not very high.

I did that, then tried to figure out the travel size items, what I needed.   Did I need deodorant?  What was I doing again?

Along the way, I put a tube of frizz-fighter hair cream into the cart, I plan to try that out.  My hair gets frizzy along my part, and it's only $2.50.

I got a little bar of Dove, hair gel, a soap holder, etc.  I got the things Ron said he needed.  He paid me back.

I remembered the soda, got some, went back.  Ron wanted salty snacks, got them, then got myself some various yogurt items.  I like the whole fat plain greek yogurt - good for taking pills.  I also like to eat the diet yogurt for a "treat".  I plan to have a "cherry" later.

I considered TV dinners but said no.  Then I got Ron his deli chicken (which he shared with the cat).  I checked out, our ride came on time, and we came home.

I felt really disconnected from my body.  I was so tired I almost forgot to put the yogurt in the fridge.  I had a good little nap.

Woke up with "Losing my Religion" running through my head, then finished reading a biography of a punk rocker who's now a pastor.  It's a good read.

Keep It

We got to the warehouse, got our supplies, and got our next ride, praise God.  She was a nice driver, one I like.  After the last trip, I told her, I needed a hug and she gave me one.  What a sweetie!

We got to work, and I unloaded the drinks, fetched the cart and wheelchair, and got the drinks into the fridge.  Ron used the wheelchair to get into the building.

Snacks look dreadful, but Ron promised me more inventory on Saturday.  Good.  Only problem, I had a tentative Bible Handout planned for that day.

However, Ron got a phone call.  My Handout Helper got thrown out.  He needs to find a new place to live.  He will not be helping anytime soon.

I feel vaguely guilty.  I know Bible Handouts make the Devil angry - I feel like I should have warned him, somehow.  I do pray for everyone, daily, so my hands are clean on that.

So, Saturday, work in the morning, yard work in the afternoon.  I plan to slap a brown henna treatment on my hair, put it under a shower cap, and mow the yard with the "mud" on my hair.  I'll be a sight, but most of the grass is in the back, and I have a privacy fence.

I did all the accounting things we needed to do, took the cash out of the machines, and got my pay.  Later on, I found a $20 bill on the floor of the stockroom.  Ron and I have the only keys, and it hadn't been there earlier.  Hm.

I took it to Ron, and he told me to keep it.  Cool.  I can have a lot of fun with that.

Trips Hell

It's been a weird day, already, and I haven't even gone to Walmart!

Our first ride was late.

It's always a bad sign when the driver has a bunch of stuff in the front passenger seat.    Generally, that indicates a driver with extreme control issues.  The drivers are supposed to keep all 4 passenger seats clear for passengers.

It wasn't just a clipboard or a map on the seat, it was lots and lots of stuff.  She clearly did not want anyone "in her space" (if so, don't drive a paratransit cab!).

Why am I going on about her?  Because, when she realized we were on a schedule, she deliberately took the slowest routes possible, driving very slowly, getting "stuck" in traffic when she could have easily taken another route, and incessantly asking "When are they coming to get you?  How long do you have before your next pickup?"  She already knew, she was trying to "work us up" about it.

I ignored it, even when she got "stuck" behind a crane going 40 mph on the freeway.  I counted multiple clear lanes on either side, but no, she had to stay in that lane, inching along at 40 mph, blaming "the crane" for the slow progress.  I looked at the cars whizzing past us at 70 mph, on either side, and thought "It's like that, huh?"

She wanted me to get mad.  She wanted me to complain, so she could be a victim.  So, I didn't.

I guess she felt like she got her payoff,  as she pulled into the parking lot.  She approached the entrance at a high rate of speed, like she was going to drive right past, and I said "We need to get out here!"  She turned and looked at me, making a big production out of "Where else was I going to drop you?"

Well, why did she pass it up?  She only stopped when I told her to - agh.  I hate head games.

I really hate control freak game-playing drivers.  Why can't they just do the job they are paid to do?

99% of them are great, but boy, the 1% sure make those trips hell.

I have to laugh at myself

Bubba loves to come over for petting as I prepare to blog.  So, I fulfilled my primary function - petting the cat, before I started typing.

Boy, I slept horribly.  [Bubba wanted more petting, but he's gone now]

I see it like this, I drank diet soda, way too late last night, but I didn't want to get dehydrated and pass out pushing Ron in the wheelchair!  Sounds good until I remember the gas station sold water, and Powerade Zero, in addition to the Diet Dr Pepper.

I have to laugh at myself sometimes.  Today will be interesting, I'm sure.

Ron needs supplies from the warehouse.  I have to get them, and get them into work.  Then some accounting, end-of-month procedures.  After that, I get paid, hopefully.

After all THAT, I then go to Walmart and pick up a few little things for my trip.  I HATE waiting until the last minute and prefer to have my bag packed at least a week in advance.

At any rate, I need to get moving so I'll be ready for the pickup.  I hope you have a good one!

(((hugs)))

"He gets all my money"

Today was my day off.

Last night, I felt pretty horrible.  I had a horrible headache and nausea.  I came very close to vomiting, after I took my phenergan.  Happily, I kept it down, laid down, and got a good night's sleep.

I woke up today and took it easy.  I basically did my God Time, a little reading, took a long nap.  I figured, if I needed the sleep I'd better get it.

After I got up, Ron and I decided to go out on the bus.  I put him in the wheelchair and pushed him to the bus stop.  When we got to the transfer point, I saw another guy.

His electric wheelchair was parked at an odd angle, near traffic, on the grassy verge.  He was holding a white cane but clearly had some vision.

I watched him out of the corner of my eye.  It is very unusual to see a blind man (even legally blind) in a wheelchair, and I know for a fact Medicare does not pay for electric wheelchairs for blind people - for obvious reasons.  I had some red flags going.

I made sure Ron was parked safely.  The other guy began waving his urine bag at me in a drunken fashion.  The bag was not full.

When Ron had a catheter, after his accident (he had it for weeks after he came home), they told me, again and again, DO NOT RAISE IT ABOVE HIP LEVEL because the old urine can back flow into the patient's body and cause horrible infections.

Here this guy was waving it around at shoulder level.  I concluded he WAS drunk and kept talking to Ron.

Next thing I know, the guy (who is big) has fallen on the ground.  I prayed about it - Lord, what do I do?  I'm not picking up a drunk guy twice my weight - even if I could.   Some men came over and helped him back into his wheelchair - but he kept falling out again.

When they brought him over by the bus stop, I could smell the alcohol - rum, I think.  It was overpowering.  Amazingly, they let him on the bus.

As we were riding the bus, considered a "black ghetto" bus, a white guy with a a foot cast came up to me, panhandling.   "I'm a cripple!" he shouted.  I just looked at Ron, then back at him.  "Sorry, he gets all my money" I said.  He left me alone after that.

The other guy in a wheelchair made a few comments to us while riding, enough for me to confirm he was drunk.  I asked Ron later, who let him out in public without a caregiver?

When we got off, so did our "friend" in the wheelchair.  I hustled Ron out of there.  The guy in the wheelchair followed us, but I was fast.

I got a cold drink, and when we came out of the gas station I saw the guy in the parking lot, just sitting there.  I didn't know what game he was playing, but I didn't want to join.

Ron and I went to Academy, where I got 2 hoodies.  I found a really cute hot pink, I love it, (I started cycling manic yesterday), it's a wonderful mania color.  However, I will not wear that when I'm depressed.  I found a nice navy.  For what they charge, I could afford to get both.  So, I have the hot pink manic, and the navy depressed.

I told Ron, it may seem a little weird, having two wardrobes, but it works for me.  We got something to eat and came home.

I did aggravate my sunburn a little, but otherwise we had a lot of fun.  "Quality Time" is my love language, so I am completely happy pushing Ron in the wheelchair and yakking away.

Tomorrow, work, but not for very long.  Then a few fun errands and home again.

Thank You, Lord

So, whatever happened with Ron?

An interesting story.  Yesterday, as I was praying, God let me know I had to let the Holy Spirit work on Ron.  All believers have the Holy Spirit, and when we do wrong it convicts them.

The Holy Spirit also comforts us during hard times.  Anyway, I left it alone.  I didn't talk to Ron until I got home.

When I did, he acted friendly, but not overly so.  As I was strapping the Bibles to my handcart, he came out and sat in his wheelchair.

"I'm sorry".  What?  "I had [a driver we know] today.  I told him what happened and he said I was wrong.  He said a few months isn't even long enough to get me out of the jail, much less probation or release!"

Thank you, Lord.

He also made a point of telling me how much he values me, several times, today.

Handout Update

My #1 thing I ask God: keep me useful.  Make me, and keep me useful.  I will do whatever it takes to share You, just show me Your will.

I am filthy, tired, sunburned, and battling a headache, but it's worth it.

Normally I get a ride to the Handout, on paratransit, thanks to my husband.  However, he was angry at me today and refused to arrange a ride.

Fine, I thought.  I'll go on the bus.  Important point: I normally never take the bus to a handout, although I did for years when I was starting.

I had my 80 Bibles strapped into my handcart and in my shoulder bag.  I almost forgot the sign :pound but God reminded me.  I've got a handcart, a sign, and a shoulder bag.

I head out to the bus stop.  The minute I get to the intersection, I am approached by a strange man.  Vietnamese.  Drunk.  I give him a Bible, and he takes it.  He's confused, but he puts it carefully in his bag and pushes his shopping cart down the street.

I get on the bus.  The driver is kind of gaping at me (usual), and I give him a Bible.  He asks about the history and I tell him, and remind him I'll be praying for him every day.

A spanish-speaking woman gets on.  I ask "Espanol?"  and she nods.  I give her a Spanish New Testament.  She takes it and starts looking through it.

I get a funny feeling as we approach "my" corner.  I have a feeling I won't be working it today.

Yup.  Two filthy men are begging on my corner.  I see the other side is clear, so I ask the driver to drop me directly across the street.  In the meantime, he has to pick up his passengers - the ones I would have walked right past to MY corner.

One gets on.  She is clearly having a bad day.  "It's my birthday!" she laments.  I reach into my bag.  "Happy Birthday!  I have a present for you!"  She is thrilled.  The driver grins.

[none of these people would have been reached if I had done my usual routine]  The recipients thank me as I get off.

I have an easy time getting to this median.  I'm ready to go and hold up my sign.  Immediately I get a taker.  In fact, this side of the street has an unusually long cycle.  It's at least a couple of minutes long, cars parked and idling.  When the light changes, I barely have time to get back to the corner before they stop again.

I start at the corner and walk down.  Lots of recipients.

My favorites:
One guy who parked behind me, and honked his horn until I came over.  He wanted 3.  He was a punker.

Another lady who got so excited, when the light changed she hung an illegal u-turn and laid on the horn, until I came over and got her.

Lots of Spanish.  It seemed like all I had to do was wave the Bible and they wanted it.    If I wasn't sure, I offered them a choice of English or Spanish.

I got some executive types, in big fancy SUV's.

I had a biker chick, wanted one.

I had several gang members, I could tell from the tattoos and clothing.  They were very intrigued and amused that [I]I[/I] wanted to give them Bibles, but they were happy to take them.

My favorite - Mom and kids in the car, everyone gets a Bible.  I had several of them.

I had one guy who told me he was saved, but wanted 2 to give to some friends who were coming over for dinner that night.

One guy wasn't interested, until he saw me picking up my trash and bagging it.  Then he wanted a Bible.  A good reminder to mind my witness!

I had a couple of couples, they just wanted one, but I teasingly told them I had to give a Bible to everyone in the car.  They liked that.

If they weren't a recipient, they all seemed to be on their devices, texting, checking e-mail, whatever.  I reminded myself some would probably be very upset if they did "see" me, so God used it to protect me.

I had one lady who was somewhat reluctant.  I told her "I'm a born-again, and God will get me if I hand out anything weird!"  Then she wanted one for herself and her son.

A couple people said no, if it wasn't KJV they didn't want it.  But I'm pretty sure they had a Bible anyway.

I gave one to one of the guys begging.  He walked across the median and intersected with me.  He took it and put it away carefully.

Probably the most interesting was the carload of young women.  They took the Bibles, and then one said "We are Santana" - devil worshippers.  I said "I'll be praying", they laughed, and drove off.  We'll let Hebrews 4:12 do the heavy lifting.

I had a couple of truckloads of day-laborers.  Everyone got a Bible.  In fact, after I finished, I was sitting at the bus stop (!) and a carload pulled up right in front of me.  I only had a couple left, all Spanish.  I handed them to the foreman through the open window and told him they were free.  He started passing them around.

So far, 8 people got reached because I "had" to take the bus!

No, 9 total.  I went to McDonald's afterward.  I was a little goofy and dehydrated, and the manager was incredibly kind to me.  I made sure she got my second to last Spanish.

Oh, and the last one?  A gang member in an afro, wearing "crips" colors.  God impressed on me to give him my last Bible, which I was saving for the driver.  I walked up to him and said "Excuse me.  You're going to think I'm crazy, but I'd like to give you a New Testament".  He was very surprised, and thanked me as he took it.

A very productive handout.  I'm glad God could use me.

Here it comes:  Please pray for the recipients!

Get Strapped

I had a fun day out.  Albeit, a hot and sweaty day out.

I left the house, carrying my backpack and some spending cash.  I went to a gas station and got some drinks.  Spent a while waiting on my second bus (a theme for today - waiting on the bus).

Finally got the bus, and went to the thrift store.  I recalled they had swimsuits.  They did.  Baby and toddler size.  AGH.

I found a cute stuffed toy for a friend (she loves orange tabbies), so I just got him.  I headed to the mall.

Now, "The Mall" is a very nice mall.  Affluent.  I kept feeling like I should go to Sears, which I did.  I found a cute, modest, bathing suit with a skirt and some padding on the chest (so I don't "salute").  I liked it.

If I had to wear a 20W bathing suit, it made me look pretty cute and a little bit slimmer even.  Bad news, it cost $50.  Yes, I "probably" could have found a cheaper bathing suit elsewhere.... but I don't have transportation.  I'll leave the tags on it for a few more days in the unlikely event I do find something better.

It is easier for me to go downtown, than it is to go to Walmart, on the bus, and from what I recalled they only had skimpy 2 piece separates anyway.  I went with the bird in the hand and got it.  I looked around for a jacket, specifically, I want a purple hoodie.

I found them, with logos.  No.  I am not a billboard.  So, I'll go to Academy tomorrow.  I know they have cute, cheap, plain, hoodies.  It'll be a fun trip.

I left the mall and went to the Kolache factory.  I got a sausage and egg, and a couple diet cokes.  I drank and ate, relaxed.  I went out and caught my bus, after waiting for 20 minutes.

I got that one, went to my transfer point.  Waited.  Waited some more.  I was sitting on a concrete bench in the sun.  HOWEVER, I did have a seat.  I'm always looking for the positive.

I talked to God for a while, asked Him to keep me useful.  Drank my drinks.  Listened to my music.  Laughed at the irony of all the cars driving by, and my impending Bible Handout.

I noticed we had a few gusts of wind from the north, Isaac is making a little stir in Houston - not much though.  It was oppressively humid, hot (upper 90's) and sunny.

My bus broke down, the other bus finally came, and I came home.  Ron acted normally.  I told him I'd be leaving in about an hour to do the handout.

He said he would take me next week.  I thanked him, but said I was going today.  I told him I had 2 other handouts in the works, with people who have cars, so I wouldn't "need" transportation.

I just need to hydrate, put on some more perfume oil (I smell like wet cotton), get my vest, sort through what's coming along for the handout (not much), and get strapped.  No, not a gun - strapping the case of Bibles onto the handcart.  :-)

I plan to eat some fast food after the handout.  I have plenty of time before it gets dark.  I'll take my pills then.  I'm already at risk for heatstroke, being fat.  And taking my meds.  I'm not putting more meds on top of that although I'm sure God would make it work.

It is getting cloudy, which will make things easier for me.  Yay.

Let's pray I have good rides and minimal hassles during the handout.

"You need to help him"

I know, without a doubt, if God wanted me to leave He would make it apparent.  Since, every time I've taken "the issue" to him, I get the same "NO" - and trust me, I wanted a "Go ahead and leave him", I have to assume this is where I'm supposed to be.

That said, Ron "let" me sleep last night.  He was making a lot of noise with his talking book machine.  I got up and said "I'll shut your door".  He knew what I was saying.  Then I saw the cat.  "The cat's is in here, after he leaves I will shut the door".  He made some more noise for a while, and then stopped.  I think he was trying to get more attention.  No one could sleep through that racket.

Now, don't get me wrong, he has ABSOLUTELY kept me up all night, on purpose.  I think, in this case, he was being thoughtless.

Anyway, I slept pretty well last night.  I got up at 5:30.

Got on the computer, looked around for a bit, and Ron woke up.  When he walked by, I said "I'm awake".  I didn't want him to tiptoe, trying to "Let Heather sleep", if I wasn't.  That wouldn't be kind.

"OH-Kay" he said mopingly as he dragged himself down the hall.  Everything about him shouted "Victim".  Oh, it made me so mad.  I HATE it when is horrible to me and then acts like HE is the victim.

He does this.  I remember one day, I got into the vehicle before Ron (he is pretty slow and takes a couple minutes to come out).  The driver was very upset at me.

"How can you make that poor man travel on his own?"  Huh?  "You MADE him to to the liquor store by himself!  That's horrible!  How could you make him do that?  It's so hard for him to walk, and he HAD to carry that big bag around his neck... YOU NEED TO HELP HIM!"

Thankfully, I had done my God Time, AND my medication.  I throttled back the original rage.

"Have you ever seen him, travel by himself, any where else?"  No.
"Do you think I might have a good reason for refusing to buy him alcohol?"  I gave her a pointed look, and she shut up.  About that time, Ron got in.

"So, Ron" I told him "This driver is upset because you go to the store by yourself."  He smirked.

So, the "acting-like-a-victim" thing drives me nuts.  I remember he did this back in 2007.  When I did leave him  I had all kinds of drama because Ron went around "confessing" to everyone and playing "I am a worm".  However, he made sure to mention I had helped him buy the alcohol, so it wasn't really his fault.

And that, dear friends, is reason enough to say "No, I will not buy you alcohol."   If the issue comes up again, today, I will use that example.

I don't get it.  If I beat the crap out of someone while drinking, I wouldn't drink!  Instead, all I get is a weak promise "not to drink any everclear" (which is almost 100% grain alcohol).  His reasoning behind drinking the everclear: wine makes me fat.  Beer makes me fat.  Nothing is more important than getting drunk, for the fewest calories possible.  Therefore, I will drink 100% grain alcohol.

What's really awful - he has asked me to help him get it AGAIN!  He BEAT ME UP drinking the stuff, and he wanted it again?  He mentioned it just this year, in fact.  I told him I would call my aunt and uncle, who got a big eyeful of my bruises last time, and ask him to explain it to them.

So.  It really bugs me when he acts like a victim, after he has done something abusive.  It's not healthy on any level.

I did some research, sadly, it is common.

Anyway, I will have fun today, stick to my guns, be polite and respectful, without being needy - he likes to "cut me off" and give me the silent treatment, to get my acquiescence.  If he calls I will probably answer the phone.  Then I will tell him "No" again.

I will have a fun day out.  Then, a Bible Handout.  Too bad I can't take the Bibles and hand them out at the mall!

Stronger

God only knows what will happen tomorrow.

I know this: I will take the bus and hand out the 80 Bibles I did up tonight.  Guaranteed.

I'm pretty beat, so I will be going to bed early.  I will probably get up early, take my shower.

After that, I don't know.  Depends on the drama level with Ron.  I will probably leave the house, on the bus, and go to various thrift stores and a mall.  I can look for my bathing suit.  That'll keep me busy.

Then, come home, and go out again with the Bibles for handout (I like the evening rush hour).

I have no idea how Ron will act tomorrow.  He wrote me a "Pleading" letter telling me "not to let fear run your life".  When he is calm and rational, I will tell him about the last time I bought him alcohol and why I swore I would no longer do so.

He had a very bad habit of buying vodka, hiding it, and telling me he was only drinking beer or wine that night.  He'd have a blackout.  

He had a very ugly blackout, was extremely verbally abusive, and threatening me physically.  I sat on my bed, so ANGRY at myself for being manipulated, and I swore to myself :  This is the last time.  I will never, put myself into this position again.  I am never buying Ron any alcohol, ever.  I have kept my promise.

Ron seems to think my decision is based on his behavior.  If he "proves he can handle it", I will relent and start buying him alcohol every time we go to Walmart.


I don't think anyone's going to say I need to buy him any alcohol, other than the "rubbing" kind.

It's annoying for me, because I haven't bought him any alcohol in years.  He still thinks he can sweet talk me into getting it for him.  But then I remind myself, yes, I was that easily manipulated for a very long time.  He is just going on my past behavior.

No, to him, means "Ask me again later" or "I'll capitulate if you threaten me".  I kind of set up that expectation.  I had a very hard time standing up for myself.

But, my goal is not pleasing Ron and making him happy 100% of the time.  It's impossible, anyway.

My goal is pleasing GOD and making Him happy 100% of the time, as much as possible.  No, I don't think I HAVE to make God happy to get into heaven, but I want to make Him happy.  He has taken good care of me, and I know what makes Him happy will make me happy in the long run.

I've already found out I'm far stronger than I ever believed.

Pending Bible Handout(s)

The cat just came in his (cat) door, meowing.  I called him and put my hand down at cat level.  Bubba ignored me and strutted off down the hall.

"Ron, Bubba's home!  It's for you!"  He jumped up on the bed and I hear Ron talking now.

It seems like everyone in the world is asking me about a Bible Handout.  Tomorrow, I'll do one in my usual spot, afternoon rush hour.  I just need to finish up the Bibles.

I may do one Saturday morning, in the usual spot, need to pray on that but one of my friends would like to do one, and works a conventional job.  Not all of us get up at 2 AM to receive deliveries!

Speaking of, that's what I did.  I admit, I hit the snooze button.  But, I got up, did my God Time.  It comes in two parts: me, praying - I talk to God.  Then, reading the Bible (I have various reading plans), where He talks to me.

I did that, while sucking down a Diet Dr Pepper.  Funny.  The time Diet Dr Pepper has spent in my God Time ought to assure it a place in Heaven!  That, and the cat.

These are the thoughts that come from my brain, when I wake up at 2 AM.  Then I did my shower and even shaved my legs without bloodshed.

Apparently, I could have used an extra swipe with the deodorant.  Ron complained when I hugged him later that day.  I always carry perfume oil so I applied it and covered the problem.  Again, when I get up at 2 AM, not always at my best.

I think if I got up that early, consistently, I'd be OK.  Normally, though, I get up around 5, so it's a problem.  But, as Ron says, it's only once a month.

I put on a pocket tshirt and comfortable clothes, and headed off to work.  I got 2 soda deliveries, put them away.  Then I got the sandwich delivery and stocked that.  I also retrieved soda for Ron, stocked heavy cases of bottled soda into the refrigerators, etc.  Busy, busy.

We did it all pretty fast, though, so Ron went and hung out with the other blind vendor, in his stockroom.  They had a good time.

Pretty soon our ride came.  I was exhausted.  I'd slept poorly last night.  Finally got home, oh, my bed looked so good.  I practically jumped into it.

I slept until 1 PM.

Ron and I will do a Bible Handout tomorrow afternoon.  If things work out, I'll do another on Saturday with Craig.  Dee Ann is very interested in possibly doing one next Friday.  We'll pray on it.

Tomorrow, I go to Walmart.  I need that bathing suit, and I want some Diet Mountain Dew for the Handout(s).  If I can't find the bathing suit, after we get home I will take the bus to the thrift store, while Ron goes to the liquor store.

Sigh.  I'm glad he's only buying beer and wine, but I'd really rather he not drink at all.  But, that...

Agh.  So, he just asked me to explain why I won't "help" him buy alcohol.  I told him, I don't want to have any part in your next blackout.  He's had blackouts on beer.  He's had blackouts on wine.  He's had blackouts on harder stuff.

But he doesn't want to hear it, any more than he wants to hear "You've been sober for years at a time and then binge-drunk yourself into a blackout."  No, that doesn't happen!  How dare I say that!

I told him, tell him, again and again, I will not buy you alcohol.  I will have nothing to do with buying you alcohol.

I think the concept of the next blackout is very frightening for him.  I found it very telling, and I will point this out when he's calmed down - if you consider it "torture" because I won't help you get something, you might want to examine your dependence on that substance.

Now he's "punishing" me.  Threatening to cut off all my transportation.  No ride to the handout.  No ride to Walmart.  No rides anywhere, church, or my doctor.  Fine.  I can take the bus.

Ron needs me a lot more than I need him, and he needs to realize a response of this magnitude, to a simple "No, because I worry about your next blackout" indicates a problem.  He's still ranting, but I'm listening to money on headphones.  He wants me to get very upset, yell and cry maybe... until I agree to "compromise" and buy him alcohol.

Nope.  If I think things are tough now, imagine the monster I'll create if I capitulate!

I needed that

I can't tell you how much I needed that hug and prayer.  Battling horrible depression.

Now Ron, God love him, doesn't get it.  He knows my depressions are "bad" and I "don't want to do anything" but he doesn't grasp it.  

His idea of "helping", if I mention "I'm having a hard time with depression" is yelling at God about  "breaking" me.  Calling God Torture Man and worse, shouting and very angry - he assures me "on my behalf".  Then walking around in a black, ugly, mood for days after.

If I mention I have been depressed, he wants to know why I didn't tell him.  Yeah, we could clearly use some counseling on this.  [snort]  When have I ever said that?

So, safe to say, things are not "supportive" at home.  He's not malicious, just oblivious.  He doesn't know, and doesn't want to know.  If I try to tell him he shuts down the lines of communication.

I also have to think, if Ron really knew the severity - he'd be even angrier at God.  So, maybe God has impeded his ability to understand.  I'm not sure.

I just figure God has given me Ron, in part, to keep my eyes on God, and not my husband, for support!  God has always understood me.

Sometimes, I want someone to say "You poor thing" and give me a hug.  Someone to pray with me instead of yelling at God.  Oh, how I want that.

I'll say it again, just in case I'm not clear: Ron does his best.  He gives me everything he can.  He would die for me.  The man came back from the dead for me.

Did I tell you about that?

After Ron's accident, when he finally came out of the coma, and knew me, I asked him if he met God.  He became very upset.  "Blackmail's a terrible reason to live" he muttered.  "I love you" and he rolled over and went back to sleep.

Frankly, I was always scared to peruse that.  One day, I asked Ron about it.

[Important point, January 7, 2003 - the date of the accident]

It's documented that Ron's heart stopped after the accident.  The paramedics and the life flight crew revived him.

While he was dead, Ron says some things didn't happen.  He didn't see a bright light.  He didn't have his life played back.  He just says he was in a wonderful place with no fear or pain.  Oh, he desperately wants to go back.  "Would you rather make love, or read about it?" he says when people ask.  They understand.

However, while he was dead, Ron was shown an image.  I was in a small medical exam room.  A doctor was telling me she'd have to put me into a mental hospital, against my will, because I was "a danger to myself".  I was crying and very distraught, begging her to reconsider.  She kept saying, sorry, no option.

Ron, "seeing" this, was furious.  How dare that doctor tell me I was crazy?  "Just give her some medication and she'll be fine!" he remembers shouting (which was true).   "Leave her alone!"  God, at that point, let Ron know "You can be with Heather during this, or not.  What will it be?"  And Ron elected to come back.

Here's where it gets creepy.  The date of the accident: Jan 7, 2003.  On September 1, 2006, I was sitting in the exam room, listening to the doctor tell me she would have to put me in the mental hospital, against my will, even though I told her I was OK to go home.  I would not commit suicide, I said, but she didn't believe me.  I could do it the easy way, by signing a form.  Or I could do it the hard way, with the police, handcuffs, and an ambulance.  What would it be?  Of course I was sobbing.

I realized later I had just enacted Ron's "vision".  At the moment, though, she left, and came back.  "Well," Doc told me "Since you are married, your husband can be responsible for you.  We will release you if you get checked out at the ER."

I don't forget that.  Ron has a very hard time of it, physically.  He can feed himself, bathroom, dress himself, but other than that he is dependent.  He thanked me recently for doing all the housework, as he got a clean shirt out of the closet (He does hang up his own clothes, after I put them on a chair).

So, I remember that.   I see Ron struggling to be a good husband, which to him equates as a good provider.  I tell him money doesn't matter, I want a hug, and he gives me one.  Usually.

But I feel alone and very isolated.  I want someone to "get it".

Today, after his usual bitter complaints about "bad trips", we went to church.  After church, the pastor came up to me.  I told him I was battling a nasty depression, taking my medication, going to see my doctor anyway on Friday, and could use a little prayer.  Right then and there, he put his hand on my shoulder and prayed for me.

A few minutes later, I saw Pete, the wonderful man who has helped us with so much.  He had just biked over.  I gave him a huge hug, even though he was sweaty, because he is a lovely man and a true servant of God.  He grinned at me and hugged me back

My church is very huggable.  I love that.  I love how it's perfectly normal for two, three people to huddle up and pray for an important issue.  Lovely.

The pastor gave me some real encouragement.  He says, hang in there.  Don't let the devil keep me from doing my work.  God loves you.

I needed that.

That's not Heather!

Sometimes I look at my "friends" list on Facebook, and wonder "Where did you all come from?"

I had joined and my adoptive sister friended me, then the rest of the family.  Then someone, very active on a low-carb message board, found me (I think via email) and friended me.  People from pretrtib Christian message boards friended me.  We can't forget the work group, either, and the friends I picked up through there.

I have former bosses, current bosses (Ron's supervisor), childhood friends (them, I found on my own), a lady I met at the bus stop, and even another woman with my name.  Heather is common.  The last name is not.  I found that one pretty funny.  She is gorgeous, "hot", seems like a lovely lady.  And we have the same name.

I wonder how many people go to find her and I pop up?  And, vice verse.  "That's not Heather!" they say!

At any rate, I have well over 200.  It's generally people who know me and their friends.  Oh, I forgot the guy in Kenya.  He doesn't post much but boy, he has the funniest, cleanest jokes.  I think some of them picked me because I am open about having bipolar disorder.  Others probably liked my "statement of faith".  I know a couple are also Fetal Alcohol AND Bipolar, like me.  Poor things.  It is ghastly.

For a very long time, I kept my illness in the closet.  I didn't even admit some symptoms, to myself.  One happy day, I had a diagnosis, and learned all my problems are incredibly common.  I had a label: Bipolar one, mixed episodes, rapid cycling, psychotic features.  I had medication, an antidepressant, a mood stabilizer (I still hug and kiss the bottle when I get my refills), and best of all - the antipsychotic.  No more weirdness.

I still get depressed, like I am now, but I talk about it.  I will post - I'm battling a horrible depression and I need prayer.

And, unlike what I had come to expect, the average "friend" is incredibly kind and supportive.  They pray for me, give me virtual hugs, and care.

That's a nice thing to have.

That's not even counting you guys, whom I love to death.  ((((hugs)))  But you know that, don't you?

Help me pack

I'm off to see my sister in Florida, in a few weeks.  I'll actually be flying on my birthday, but I like planes and airports.  I'll have my music and my Kindle.  Money for snacks.

So, would you like to help me pack?

This is what I have so far, for clothing:
1.  Formal dress for wedding, appropriate shoes to match.
2.  Dressy gauze dress for rehearsal dinner or a nice meal out, shoes to match.
3.  Black broom stick skirt.
4.  T-shirts, several.
5.  Black capri pants
6.  My beloved gray cargo shorts (probably wear on plane)
7.  Jacket (will wear on plane)
8.  Maybe - black knit cotton shorts.
9.  Appropriate undergarments.
10.  Socks.
11.  Bathing suit

I'm a little baffled on shoes.  I will probably take my gray sneakers to wear on the plane.  That should be OK for everything but the more formal occasions, which have their own shoes (black flats for the gauze dress/broom stick skirt; dressy sandals for the wedding).  I might bring my plastic clogs - the ones I got at giant dollar - they are very comfy and airy.  Horrible for walking, but good for hanging out with a car person.  I might even wear them on the plane.

I will, unfortunately, have a lot of "junk".  I am taking a bulky family item to the wedding, for my niece.  I have something for my other niece but I can put that in my backpack.

So far, I will have a garment bag, a duffel bag (I might just put the garment bag into the duffel bag and wrap around the bulky item), and a backpack to carry on the plane.

Backpack items are easy: change of underwear, fresh socks, and t-shirt.  Kindle.  Cell phone.  MP3 Player.  I need to see the rules about batteries.  I think I can take some.  If not, some concessioner is going to get rich.  Happily, my MP3 player runs on triple A's.  Money, and snacks.

I plan to bring meat sticks, mainly.  Drinks of course - empty water bottles to fill at a fountain once I get through security.  I'll also make the airport vendor (whom I know) happy by purchasing a few bottled Diet Dr Peppers out of the vending machine.  I might bring some low-carb granola bars - the Atkins style, but nuts have been problematic for me with migraines lately.  So, I'll see what I find.  Something sugar, nut, and grain free.

It goes without saying: medication.  I plan to get 3 month refills and take them.  Why screw around?  What if I get stuck in Florida for a while?  Yike.  I am NOT going off my meds.  I'll bring my OTC headache pills, and some stuff for cramps.

Which takes me to toiletries.  Girl stuff (just in case), soap, shampoo, razor, mineral makeup (just enough for a 'basic" face).  Hairbrush, deodorant, and perfume (I use the roller-style, which will travel well).

I will also bring some form of evangelism; probably Scripture booklets.  I really don't want to miss any opportunities.  

Last but not least, my waterproof Bible for the plane, and the regular Bible packed in my luggage.

Advice wanted:
Gray sneakers or plastic clogs on plane (fake crocs, navy blue, slip on style)?
Should I bring my vitamins?  I'm only gone for 5 days.

Rock the chest

I had a good talk with my sister yesterday.  "Don't forget your bathing suit" she said.

Gulp.

You might think I hate swimsuit shopping because it makes me feel fat.  Well, I am.  I'm OK with that for now.  Yes, I have a good 70 pounds to lose, but I will.

I hate it for the modesty issues.  How do I state this?  If I have to shave, wax, or pluck in order to wear the suit, it's not for me.  I am fine with shaving my legs.  No problem there.  The rest?  Ah, no.

I don't want to flash my butt, either.  I try to at least pick something that covers at least as much as my underwear.  That, however, is hard to find!

Yes, I have breasts.  However, if you can see the bite scar from an assault at age 12, it's too frisky.  I have found the halter-style to work the best for me.  It covers the scar nicely.  I could probably really rock the chest, if I wanted, but I'm only interested in my husband.

Now, factor in a "Plus Size".  [shudder]  Good luck, Heather, you're going to need it!

I'll pray on it, and hunt around at the thrift stores.  Wash it really well and it ought to be fine.

It's a good opportunity to see how God will provide.  He knows I'm on a tight budget!

What am I?

Here's an odd one.

Ron's sister had 3 sons.  One of them had a son.  Now that boy has a girl pregnant.  What the heck are Ron and I, to the baby?

But it gets weirder.  My own mother had my brother when she was 13.  My sister at age 14.  Then she had me at age 32.  I have a nephew two years younger than myself.  But wait, HE has kids.  At least 3 that I know of.  One of them may have kids.

I also have a niece a few years younger than that.  She has kids.  They are still, kids.

That's not even counting the steps.

Thank God for medication

Sometimes I'm really hard on myself.   And then I read something like this:  In the context of mental disorder, a mixed state, also known as dysphoric mania, agitated depression, or a mixed episode, is a condition during which symptoms of mania and depression occur simultaneously, such as agitation, anxiety, fatigue, guilt,impulsiveness, irritability, morbid or suicidal ideation, panic, paranoia, pressured speech and rage. Typical examples include tearfulness during a manic episode or racing thoughts during a depressive episode. One may also feel incredibly frustrated or be prone to fits of rage in this state, since one may feel like a failure and at the same time have a flight of ideas.  Mixed states are often the most dangerous period of mood disorders, during which susceptibility to substance abuse, panic disorder, commission of violence, suicide attempts, and other complications increase greatly.

And I think, well, maybe I'm doing OK.  [Source, Wikipedia "Mixed State" article]  It really sucks to be me!

Hey, I got up, went to work, managed the business, assisted my husband, AND went to the store.  I got exactly what I needed, no more, no less.  I talked to my sister - who's having a hard time physically.

I did all that, came home, and took a nap.  I can't paint the wood, it rained, and the wood got wet, but I probably would have if the weather permitted.

So, what's different?  Well, last night I was having such an awful time I did take the half Wellbutrin.  I can take up to 2 tablets a day, I only took one and a half total.

Then I got the pill splitter and cut the some more in half, going up to 1.5 tablets a day.  I took it this morning and boy did I feel it.

"I cannot brain today".  I felt foggy and disconnected.  I had a very hard time thinking.  At Walmart, I ran Ron into a couple of end caps.  He was very nice about it.  I still feel a disconnect, but that's OK, because I'm not depressed.

When my sister called, we played "Fashion Police" and she helped me pick out the "right" shoes to wear to the wedding.  I sent her a picture message and she approved them.

We came home (got a value burger for the driver) and I put away the groceries.  I was proud of the fact I had bought healthy, high-protien, low-carb food options (mainly cottage cheese and whole fat greek yogurt).  I can just take it out of the fridge and eat.  No food prep.  Yay.

I also got a few other things I needed, like more underwear.  I stayed in budget.  I am exhausted, and it's 3:30 in the afternoon.  But I'm coping.

Thank God for medication.

Without Him

So, other than playing "archeologist" with my past, what have I done today?

Not much.

Ate sugar.  Battled a headache.  Avoided all chores.  Talked to Ron a little - but he was in a dark mood; sleeping now, and will probably be up all night.

I did my God Time, and had some quality time with the cat.  I didn't take a shower yet, but I will.

I also remade the bed, based on the last sentence.

Tomorrow should be pretty busy, Walmart, Work, the bank I think, and then home.  Ron made noises about getting some takeout later, but I will verify if he wants to do that.

We are on a budget.

I can sure save him a lot of money when I'm depressed.  I don't want to do anything.

I did catch up on the laundry.  Yay, me.

Today was one Wellbutrin.  I can go up to 2.  I'm going to get my pill cutter and cut some in half for the rest of the week.  Take one and half.

No one deserves to feel like this.  I have to think it goes to keeping me humble and dependent on God.

I'd hate to be depressed without Him.

A better arrangement

Don't get me wrong.  It seems like EVERY Christian I know is having a hard time.

This depression is a killer.  I've tried everything today.  At first, I thought, maybe I'm exhausted because I've been running and running, taking care of all the little things.  So, I went to bed early and slept in this morning.

Then I resolved I wouldn't do anything resembling a chore.  I can paint the wood tomorrow.

I tried resting, and had nightmares.  Still depressed.  In fact, a little worse because a nightmare reminded me of some childhood issues.

Ron put it very eloquently: when my Dad remarried, he married his wife and her family.  Her family did not marry me.  They didn't like me, thought I was favored.

To a large extent, they were right.  I was Daddy's little girl.  What little free time he had, I got.  He wasn't as strict with me.

I think he was strict with the other kids to establish his (alpha male) position.  I already knew Daddy was boss.  They  had a "You're not the boss of me" attitude he found infuriating.  Their own dad was more of a free spirit.  From what I've heard, he wasn't strict.

As they hit their teens, it got ugly.  But, a funny thing happened.

I met Ron, and moved in with him the day after I turned 18.  Head games were rampant, I stayed as far from that house as possible, for years.  I'd go months without seeing or calling my Dad.

I asked him to admit I had been abused.  I wanted him to admit that people had gone into my room and stolen my things.  I didn't even get into the physical abuse.  He said "Don't make me choose between my wife and you."  I realized I would never get my vindication from him, and that made me angry and sad.  So, I avoided him even more.

Eventually, I forgave "them" without an apology, and funny thing, I got the admission and apology.  Ironic.

Ron used to nag me into calling him.  Funny, the guy Dad threatened to put in jail has been his biggest advocate.

As I fled the scene, Dad developed a better relationship with my older stepsister.  For all intents and purposes, she is his daughter.  She fixes them dinner, checks in on them, had the grandson, and will most likely have a big part in picking his nursing home.

I don't begrudge her that.  Like I said, she didn't have it easy, either.  I know, in her way, she loves him.

I'm just sad I had to ditch my Dad to protect my own mental health.  Sure, we talk, every week.  I know he worries for me, prays for me, and even gave me the computer I'm using.

Maybe it's the fact that I get a phone call every week, and a few days visit a year.  She has custody the rest of the time.

I want a better arrangement.

I will

I finally drew a line in the sand.

Yesterday, I got up early, went to the warehouse, got the supplies, got them to work.  Heavy cases of soda.  I don't mind physical labor.

Went to work and stocked.  I almost ran into that mean woman but I hid.  Got all the work, worked.

AFTER work, the Home Depot, and plenty of home repair supplies.  I had squirreled a little money away for home repairs before I got the pay cut.  I used that.

Hard work getting the boards in the truck, and then into the backyard.  But, it had to happen if I want my siding repaired, which I do.

At some point the hardie plank has to be painted, so we can just go into the neighbors yard and put it up directly, without bothering them again.  Zero property lines are a hassle.

Basically, for me, one wall of the house is the property line.  Fortunately, they are overall very quiet and respectful of the property.  They probably pray I will paint it one day - it's a rather loud orange.  Can't afford that, and I can't get up on a ladder, either.

On the other hand, I don't want to go into their yard anymore than I want them in mine.  So, the polite thing to do is have the board pre-painted so I don't have to bother them again.

After all that, we had about an hour - too short for a nap.  Our ride came and took us to the BBQ shack.  It was very good.  I murdered a double cheeseburger.  Ron loved the ribs.

We had a pretty good ride home and arrived about 6.  I was on the computer, trying to stay awake, when I thought "Why am I trying to stay awake?"  So, I told Ron I was going to bed.

I slept 12 hours straight, only interrupted by a trip to the bathroom, refilling my water bottle (I frequently wake up thirsty), and Bubba.

Yup.  Bubba's home.  My big, sweet kitty came in the cat door, meowing his head off, louder and louder until I woke up and called him.  He came running and got in my bed, and we had a nice sleep for a few hours.  When I got up, he was looking at the window, which was closed.  I opened the blinds for him and came into the computer room.  He followed me.  Awww!  What a sweet boy.  He loves to be nearby.

He's actually completely stretched, right behind my chair, right now.  Adorable.

Ron had forgotten to call in my trip to Walmart (I still need shoes for the wedding), and I decided, it was a sign from God.  I need to stay home and rest.

No painting.  No cleaning.  No laundry (other than putting wet clothes in dryer).  No yard work.  I'm going to rest.  Something I need quite desperately, if last night's mega-sleep is any indication.

So, I will.

"I love Jesus" and a coffee can

If you're a man, you might want to skip the first paragraph.

Ugh.  My cycle started, with the usual wracking, eviscerating, cramps.  I had to take a couple doses of naproxen, which raise my lithium levels, so I've been a little dim today.  I also slept horribly.

However, we had a LOT to do today.  So, I got up.  We went to the warehouse and got chips and soda, took them to work.  Lots of heavy lifting for me.

After work, Chuck picked us up, ran an errand and then Home Depot.  I needed caulk, a caulk gun, all kinds of things, particularly 8 foot hardiplank boards.

I did a good job, asking for help, and I got it.  I put the various items on the cart.  We had left Ron up front.

I finally got over to the boards.  I started loading them up.  I put all 8 onboard and Chuck said "These are 12 foot".  Oops.

So, I had to get out my cell phone and calculate.  If I needed 64 linear feet of board, how many 12 foots do I need?  I got 6.  Boy, they were heavy.  I smashed my hand, too.  Not badly, of course, I can still type, but I'll have a bruise tomorrow.

Got checked out.  They laughed when I got out my "wallet" - an old coffee can.  As I saved the money, I put it into the can.  It worked.

We went outside and loaded the truck.  Chuck was concerned.  We didn't have a flag on the protruding boards.  I took my "I love Jesus" scarf off my backpack and tied it onto a board.  It worked great.

We got home and put the boards in the backyard.  Let me tell you, after getting all that home I am exhausted.  I'll start painting tomorrow.

I am starving.  Ron's taking me out for dinner later - a BBQ shack nearby.  It has good reviews.  I'll let you know how I like it.

I pray for you daily

Pretty tired.  I went up on the antidepressant per my protocol.  We kept it simple; Ron took me to Starbucks.  I went to a grocery store from there and got the giant incense sticks (the whole garage smells like sandalwood).  I went back to Ron and came home.

Ron & I are good.  Having some good quality time, which I always like.  Bubba cat is good, too.

After I got home, I took a nap, then got up and mowed the yard, took out the trash, etc.  Did some laundry, ate dinner and there goes the energy for the day.

Tomorrow should be fun; we're getting the home improvement supplies after work and probably getting lunch.

Have a good one!  I pray for you daily!

The hard way

Ron got drunk and made some very stupid comments on the phone tonight, on a friend's voicemail.

I hope things work out.

I have told him, again and again, there are certain things you do not say, ever.  Ever.  Even the Bible talks about this.

But, I guess, some people may need to learn some lessons the hard way.

No photo; no filter

No comments this weekend.  Maybe I need to make another political post!  [laugh]

So, would you like to see a photo of my house?

We got the tree limb issue fixed.

Sorry, when I uploaded the photo it had my address.  Both photos, actually.  I have to be careful.

I was worried about the bee issue today - but every time I've gone out and looked I didn't see any.  I also saw this:
Organic bee remover

Ron and I are going to go get some giant incense tomorrow.  That's the great thing about living in the big city - I have choices.  Once they're gone, I can caulk it.

This morning, I had a good day at work, very productive.  Someone asked me how much we work, and I told him it depends on sales.  Better sales - more work.  I also explained I don't drive, we use public transit, we have a very small mortgage, so we can afford to live on what most people couldn't.  He understood.

After work, we came home.  I had taken some OTC headache stuff at work, and felt pretty goofy.  I still do.  It raises the lithium level.

I sat down for a while.  Later on, we went to the dollar store.  I told Ron it was a lot better to take paratransit, than ride the bus with the weird guys at that corner.

I got Ron a lot of salty snack foods, got more garbage bags - they work surprisingly well.  Two kids decided to get into a spray cologne fight in the store, while I was in the aisle, and stank up the place.  It was horrible.  I was glad I had taken the headache pill - I would have needed it.

A lot of my older drivers tell me the whole neighborhood used to spank children.  If they caught a kid going into a yard without permission.  They'd spank him.  Then the homeowner would spank him.  When the parents got home and heard, they'd spank him - and he wouldn't do it again.

"You had to be good" one told me "Someone was always watching!"   I look at some of the kids these days and think that might be the problem.  Back then, even if a parent spoiled a child, the neighbors would keep him in line.  I could have used that in my own life.

Yesterday after church, a toddler was acting up.  They were taking him out to the car and Ron said "Someone needs a spanking".  That is the wonderful/horrible thing about head injuries.  Ron doesn't have a filter for his thoughts to speech - if he thinks it, it will probably come out.  I like it, mostly, because he is refreshingly honest.  I need that after the life I've had.

However, it can be embarrassing.  Thankfully no one said anything to me.

We have tomorrow off.  Wednesday I will be getting some snack foods and putting them into the machine.  Ron is notoriously stingy about buying snacks.

Tomorrow, we will go to the multi-ethnic grocery store and buy some large incense sticks.  Once I do, I plan to wait a day or two, for the trip to Home Depot.  I need caulk, siding, etc.  Once I have the caulk, I can smoke them.  When I'm SURE they're all gone, I will caulk.  That should do it.  I don't see any other ways they could be getting into the house.

Thanks, God.  I was wondering how to deal with this.

I just hate the journey

Depression came last night.  Happily, no paranoia or much anxiety.  "Just" a horrible hopelessness, "loss of energy", etc. - the stuff you see in the antidepressant ads.

Ron's listening to "Folsom Prison Blues".  I'm listening to "Holy War" by Whitecross.

Last night, the neighbors had a party, but it wasn't too loud or late.  Today, they brought me cake.  I thought that was nice.

For some reason, they seem really friendly lately.  They've been there for 2 years.  I'm not complaining.  They are the best of the various renters.

As I lay in bed, I got hammered with a ghastly depression.  Sometimes, it creeps up on me, like a slow flood; other times it's like a tsunami.  Boy, was it.  I can take up to 2 Wellbutrin a day.  Normally I take 1, because I can hallucinate at 2.

I fell asleep, so I guess I was OK.  I didn't sleep too well.  We finally got some rain, Ron's tarp blew off the outside of the bathroom window and made very annoying, inconsistent, drippy noises.

I'm not even trying to sound negative.  I slept pretty well, considering.  Bubba cat got in bed with me about an hour before my alarm.  Since I had given myself an extra half hour on the alarm, it was easy to hit the snooze a few times and get more snuggles.

I checked my computer (need to stop that until I have showered and done my God Time),

[Ron is singing a made-up song to the cat, it's adorable]

checked my computer, did my God Time (even though we were going to church later, I still like to get quality private time with God), then took my shower.

It was raining, pretty hard.  I decided to leave my hair in a ponytail.

Our ride came.  It was one of our favorite drivers, the one who got attacked [Ron just coaxed me into the man cave, he's petting the cat and singing another song to the tune of 'Rosanna'.  I "helped"].  I'd heard he had quit.  I was really glad to hear the gossip mill had it wrong.

I told him that, and we had a pretty good ride.  It was pouring as we got out.  I had my backpack (told you about that dream), a bag with Ron's braille Bible volume (A Braille Bible is 20 volumes), a water bottle, an insulated tote bag with our food for the potluck, etc.  Our friend came to get us and was really nice about it.

We got to church and checked out the new building.  Ron had me describe it.  I did.  It looks very nice. I got us some seats and dropped off our food for the potluck (potato salad, chicken salad, both purchased).  The service was good - still battling depression.

After church we had fun at the potluck.  The pastor came by as I pulled Ron towards me, hugging him and kissing the top of his head.  He thought that was really cute (I didn't even see the pastor).  He sat down with us for a minute and we talked.  He's a really good man - a good spiritual leader.  I haven't met many!  He prayed with us and left to circulate.

Ron hit it off with another guy who is also disabled.  They had a good time chatting.  Our friend finished up and we left.  Our ride came right after we arrived at our pickup spot.

I tried to lay down for a while when we got home, but couldn't fall asleep.  My cat had abandoned me.  So, I'll go to bed early.  It's really important to get enough sleep when depressed.

I'll get through this, the way I always do, with proper medication and God's help.  I just hate the journey.

Noise machine

Today was a little weird.

It started off with a nice sleep-in.  For me, that meant until 7:30!   In the morning, of course.

After that, I got up and did what cleaning I could, while Ron was home.  I did my God Time and took my shower.

 My aunt and uncle were coming over.  Years ago, during a horrible blackout, Ron blamed his drinking on my housekeeping.  Ever since, it's kind of been a hot button with them.  

I do what I can...but it's not what they'd like to see.  

So, I had to choose what I did, and what I didn't.  They seemed to like everything but the sink - the one thing I hadn't gotten!  They at least felt OK getting some canned drinks out of the fridge.  

When the guys came over to do the bathroom, it was AWFUL.  One reason I always bring pre made foods to the church potlucks.  

After Ron left for the liquor store, I did the cleaning.  I needed to clean the bathroom, but his allergies have been hair-trigger.  I used some carpet cleaning spray the other day.  Ron had a really bad allergy attack and needed antihistamines, I got hives.  Not fun.

So, once he was out of the house entirely, I used the scouring powder, spray, etc.  Then I put the compressor on "fan" for about 10 minutes to purge the house.  He said things were fine when he got home.  Good.

Ron hates it when I make his bed, because I have to move all his junk.  I made his bed and even made sure it matched, a nice dark gray sheet and a gray euro square cover.  Ron likes a euro-square for his bed pillow.  Now that I have two sets of sheets for his bed - have I mentioned he hates it when I buy him bedding?   Now that I have two sets I can change it quickly.  I also learned a really cool trick in the hospital - how to make a bed with someone in it.  I can apply that to "How to make a bed with an old VCR, headphones, adapter plugs and cords, headphones, a couple talking book cartridges, and "Heather please don't move anything 'cause I'll never find it again".  It works really well.

So, my aunt and uncle arrived.  We worked on the tree for a while, about an hour I think.  I showed them the letter - EVERYONE thinks the homeowner's association wrote it.  I keep saying INSURANCE.  However, it came on insurance company letterhead with our policy number and all.

We got the "overhanging branches" and "tree limbs on roof".  Of course, now we have a giant mountain of tree clippings.  I wish I had a chipper.  Failing that, I thought, "Let's hire a junk hauler".  I don't have a lot of energy to spend and it would be worth the $40 or so.  Even at my reduced salary.

No one else seemed to agree!  Ron says he will deal with it.  OK, I think, because we only get heavy trash pickup once a month and I'll be out of town next month (family wedding).

All that done, we went out to lunch.  It was good.  We came home and I took a nap.  I was pretty beat.

The next door neighbor came by and invited us to his daughter's birthday party.  I thought that was a little odd.  I've never heard of adults being invited to a kid's party.   We declined, politely, and gave them a six pack of coke for the party.  Overall, they are very quiet.  They did get rid of the dog - on their own.  They stay out of my yard.  Lots to like when I look at it that way, but Ron's pretty upset about the music, even though he slept through it for over an hour.

I'll just put my noise machine, on, tonight.

Hell met Earth and had babies.

I had a very interesting dream last night.  It was the Tribulation.  What's that?  

 "Tribulation is a relatively short period of time where anyone who chose not to follow God up until the Rapture and was therefore left behind (according to Pre-Tribulation doctrine, not Mid- or Post-Tribulation teaching) will experience worldwide hardships, disasters, famine, war, pain, and suffering, which will wipe out more than 75% of all life on the earth before the Second Coming takes place." - Wikipedia  

I am a Pretribulationist.  Anyway, Hell met Earth and had babies.  It was complete chaos.  I was a tribulation saint - someone who got saved after the rapture - and I found my (Heather's) backpack.  Oh, I had all kinds of good things in there!  Food, medication!  A pocketknife!  Sometimes I wonder about the stuff I carry around - but in the dream all these things were absolutely vital to another person's survival.  

Wow.  I've never had a dream like that before.  

I just have to laugh

I"m up late, for me.

I had a couple of random thoughts I thought I'd share.

*  The day of Ron's accident, I was notified by Ron's boss (Ron's family decided not to tell me and left me waiting for hours).  When he knocked on the door, I thought he was Ron, and opened the door stark naked.  For our boss.  I'm not sure who was more traumatized.

*  Within a month of Ron's accident, I lost my birth mother and my grandmother (the good one).

*  Ron's family swore they would help us.  "Trust us to get you what you need".  So, I did.  And then they dropped us like a phlegm wad when Ron said "Treat Heather with the respect due my wife", 12 hours before discharge.  I didn't have a bed for him (he slept on the floor due to back problems).  I didn't have a wheelchair, commode chair, or anything else.  I stole a bedpan from the supply closet!  I didn't have medications or groceries.  However, because they were so hateful, I was able to witness God's provision in miraculous ways.

*  Ron's parents loaned us an "extra" commode chair, but later repossessed it when the other kids  made them pick sides.  Who takes a commode chair from a blind man in a wheelchair, when they already have one?  Their own son, no less!?   I got another chair off the internet, it came fully assembled and delivered, for a very reasonable price.  It even has a lid, not that we use it.

*  That same year, I also lost both cats.  One had to be put down due to vicious biting, the other died of cancer.

*  At the end of 2003, I adopted Bubba, whom I've had ever since.  I also adopted Baby Girl (more on her in a minute).

*  In 2004, we bought the house.

*  The day we closed on the house, I got salmonella from a bad scrambled egg at a restaurant.  I needed the commode chair for a while.  Ron made a great nurse.  I was violently ill, and we delayed the move by 2 weeks.

*  My cat Baby Girl died the day we moved in, poisoned by my former neighbors (because I had asked them to keep their toddlers out of the street).

*  A crackhead broke into our garage a few months after that, I ran outside naked and got his license plate (I was not medicated at the time).  He was convicted on a bigger burglary charge, and also because I think the DA didn't want me on the stand.

*  When I was mugged, I fought bitterly, beating him badly - because my Diet Dr Pepper was in that bag.

I'm sure for some people, this is awful, horrible, stuff.  For me, I try to look at it with amusement; look how crazy my life has been.

I also look back at all that and praise God it will never be that bad again.

I just HAVE to laugh at the weirdness that's been my life.