Sigh.
To win the game of not going back to packing, I went to overnights.
More money, can't mess with me.
To win the game of gripe about my man and I talking to each other at work, I barely speak to him at work, don't have lunch with him anymore and go to overnights.
Out of sight, out of mind.
To win the game of pettyness, I don't act offended and I appologize for offending.
Ingratiate those who would continually needle you. Takes them off their guard and off your back.
To win time for me, I wake up early when others are sleeping.
To win the war against fat, I do excersizing that I enjoy. Swimming, Yoga (and working to learn roller blading better...;)
To win the war against debt, I used my tax refund to pay off all my credit cards and am going overnight to make more money so I don't have to go into debt.
To win the war against falling into emotional traps, I continually analyze and rationalize past, present, and future information and likelyhoods.
:P
To war against giving up...I remind myself I have won many battles and can win many more.
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Saturday, January 9, 2010
hive attack
So last night, around 7, my arms start itching...Well, I had worked until 6 in packing, so i just figured I had dust irritating my arms.
I get into the tub, thinking I will simply wash off whatever is irritating them. They get redder, start burning, and welps start forming.
I yell for my son to get me the vapor rub.
I tell him I have hives, if I stop breathing, he may have to call 911.
I decide that since it is now itching under my arm pits and my lip is swelling, I will call an ambulence.
MMy man is coming over by this point also to bring me benydryl)
The 911 operator tells me not to take anything or injest anything.
The ambulance gets there, I am breathing vicks, scared my throat will swell, but then they inform me that won't help...I felt better with it, though.
Anywho, I have large welps on my forearms now continuous and about 3 inches wide.
The paramedics take my vitals in the ambulance. They can't give me epinephrine because my heart is racing at 108, and my blood pressure is like 144/89
I get an injection of benedryl, and i start convulsively shaking lightly. I am asked if I am cold, but I am not.
Finally, that dies down.
The doctor says hives come from so many things. I mention I thought I had too much vitamin c and got hives from eating too many oranges once. He doesn't think that is it. I tell him about everyone in the department I work in getting cold sores. Still he is uncertain.
I get a shot of Pepcid (blocks histamine 2's) and epinephrine now that my heart rate is back to normal.
who knew zantac and pepcid are histamine inhibitors!
I have to take zantac and benydrill consistantly for about 3 days.
If I don't, immediately the hives begin again. I have been taking two which would knock me out under normal circumstances...but not today, weird.
Nywho. I think I made the right decision, and after the doctor and nurses stopped looking at me as if I was a druggie, I was much happier.
That was sure scary. The worst part was the 911 guy said, "The paramedics are on the way, so if you need anything else, just call us back." and he says bye...what was that!
still breathin...still kicking...thank God!
I get into the tub, thinking I will simply wash off whatever is irritating them. They get redder, start burning, and welps start forming.
I yell for my son to get me the vapor rub.
I tell him I have hives, if I stop breathing, he may have to call 911.
I decide that since it is now itching under my arm pits and my lip is swelling, I will call an ambulence.
MMy man is coming over by this point also to bring me benydryl)
The 911 operator tells me not to take anything or injest anything.
The ambulance gets there, I am breathing vicks, scared my throat will swell, but then they inform me that won't help...I felt better with it, though.
Anywho, I have large welps on my forearms now continuous and about 3 inches wide.
The paramedics take my vitals in the ambulance. They can't give me epinephrine because my heart is racing at 108, and my blood pressure is like 144/89
I get an injection of benedryl, and i start convulsively shaking lightly. I am asked if I am cold, but I am not.
Finally, that dies down.
The doctor says hives come from so many things. I mention I thought I had too much vitamin c and got hives from eating too many oranges once. He doesn't think that is it. I tell him about everyone in the department I work in getting cold sores. Still he is uncertain.
I get a shot of Pepcid (blocks histamine 2's) and epinephrine now that my heart rate is back to normal.
who knew zantac and pepcid are histamine inhibitors!
I have to take zantac and benydrill consistantly for about 3 days.
If I don't, immediately the hives begin again. I have been taking two which would knock me out under normal circumstances...but not today, weird.
Nywho. I think I made the right decision, and after the doctor and nurses stopped looking at me as if I was a druggie, I was much happier.
That was sure scary. The worst part was the 911 guy said, "The paramedics are on the way, so if you need anything else, just call us back." and he says bye...what was that!
still breathin...still kicking...thank God!
Monday, January 4, 2010
abandoned
I tried so hard for all those years. I stayed, unloved mistreated and used to keep my children with their father.
I finally had enough. I divorced the man who had killed me from the inside, who had abandoned all his children, who had put us in financial distress and utter jeopardy for our well-being.
I tried to keep the kids visiting with him. I let him stop by and see them even when he had missed his weekened with them. I took the kids to family christmas in Joplin, twice, so they could see his side of their family.
I have felt guilty from time to time, as if I was not right in divorcing their father and splitting up this home, but what would it have taught my children to stay?
Always acquiesce to those who mis-treat, use and abuse you? No, what I did was right...how it came about, not right, but ends justifying means sort of thing, I suppose.
The kids and I are happy, safe, somewhat stable and secure.
They got to at least stay in contact with their dad. Something I swore as long as he was clean and sober, I would fight to promote.
And now he abandons them as well...all my efforts for nothing. My struggle, I feel as though I have failed, eventhough I know it is he who fails them by walking out on them so young, so impressionable. True, they are used to not living with him...
Florida is a long long way away.
Once he goes, he will not return.
He is going away. For me, whatever, I have no feelings there except remembering all the times he left me alone and abandoned, left his other children abandoned, and now it is no surprise, but leaving hurts.
I hate him for it. I hate that my daughter is going to cry, "Mommy, why can't I go see daddy, I miss him."
She doesn't know, she doesn't understand that he is and has always been a failure and thinks only of himself.
Oh well. Whatever. Why I torture myself over it all, I'll never know. My kids tell me, they are okay. It will be fine, they will see him again.
They don't know him, like I and his ex's and his older children do.
I never wanted my children to feel abandoned, but then its my fault they are here to feel it, and my fault I had them by a man who would only leave us. I pay for it. I've paid for it, and now its them who pay.
God how I hate him for it. I hate him for it all.
I guess this just reminds me of why I could not stand it any longer, why I had to reach out with a hope of something more, something better.
I have found something better, but I feel selfish, because I only have someone for me, not for them. I have not found someone who could help and be a serogate father for my children. I have a man who loves me, but tires of children, and won't stay around, when they begin to whine.
I can't go see him anytime I want to, because I have my children with me at home. The only time I have had is time they went with their dad. Now, knowing I can't have even a little precious time makes me hate where I am even more.
It is pitiful, really, but it is the only way. At least their mother is somewhat happy. I hope it makes me more at ease for their sakes. I dunno. Sometimes I feel torn, like I shouldn't spend so much time away, like when I went to Jamaica, or when I went out to the Christmas gathering after working all that day.
There is no silver lining, there are only shades of gray.
Each day, I just try harder than I did the day before, and hope that gives me something better, and maybe something more.
I learned a long time ago, I cannot have everything I truely want, so I must be glad with some.
I just wish I could forget about the other things I want to have and be happy with just one.
I've given up on hoping, I don't expect great things. When they come along, I savor them, and face the horrid side of life with a snarl and maliced grin. I will not let it strike me down, I'll fight until my end, but I sure to tire of crying much.
I hate the word abandoned.
I finally had enough. I divorced the man who had killed me from the inside, who had abandoned all his children, who had put us in financial distress and utter jeopardy for our well-being.
I tried to keep the kids visiting with him. I let him stop by and see them even when he had missed his weekened with them. I took the kids to family christmas in Joplin, twice, so they could see his side of their family.
I have felt guilty from time to time, as if I was not right in divorcing their father and splitting up this home, but what would it have taught my children to stay?
Always acquiesce to those who mis-treat, use and abuse you? No, what I did was right...how it came about, not right, but ends justifying means sort of thing, I suppose.
The kids and I are happy, safe, somewhat stable and secure.
They got to at least stay in contact with their dad. Something I swore as long as he was clean and sober, I would fight to promote.
And now he abandons them as well...all my efforts for nothing. My struggle, I feel as though I have failed, eventhough I know it is he who fails them by walking out on them so young, so impressionable. True, they are used to not living with him...
Florida is a long long way away.
Once he goes, he will not return.
He is going away. For me, whatever, I have no feelings there except remembering all the times he left me alone and abandoned, left his other children abandoned, and now it is no surprise, but leaving hurts.
I hate him for it. I hate that my daughter is going to cry, "Mommy, why can't I go see daddy, I miss him."
She doesn't know, she doesn't understand that he is and has always been a failure and thinks only of himself.
Oh well. Whatever. Why I torture myself over it all, I'll never know. My kids tell me, they are okay. It will be fine, they will see him again.
They don't know him, like I and his ex's and his older children do.
I never wanted my children to feel abandoned, but then its my fault they are here to feel it, and my fault I had them by a man who would only leave us. I pay for it. I've paid for it, and now its them who pay.
God how I hate him for it. I hate him for it all.
I guess this just reminds me of why I could not stand it any longer, why I had to reach out with a hope of something more, something better.
I have found something better, but I feel selfish, because I only have someone for me, not for them. I have not found someone who could help and be a serogate father for my children. I have a man who loves me, but tires of children, and won't stay around, when they begin to whine.
I can't go see him anytime I want to, because I have my children with me at home. The only time I have had is time they went with their dad. Now, knowing I can't have even a little precious time makes me hate where I am even more.
It is pitiful, really, but it is the only way. At least their mother is somewhat happy. I hope it makes me more at ease for their sakes. I dunno. Sometimes I feel torn, like I shouldn't spend so much time away, like when I went to Jamaica, or when I went out to the Christmas gathering after working all that day.
There is no silver lining, there are only shades of gray.
Each day, I just try harder than I did the day before, and hope that gives me something better, and maybe something more.
I learned a long time ago, I cannot have everything I truely want, so I must be glad with some.
I just wish I could forget about the other things I want to have and be happy with just one.
I've given up on hoping, I don't expect great things. When they come along, I savor them, and face the horrid side of life with a snarl and maliced grin. I will not let it strike me down, I'll fight until my end, but I sure to tire of crying much.
I hate the word abandoned.
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