Facing my Fears

Let’s see if I can get this to post again….my computer ate my last post.  Little bastard!

When I left therapy on Thursday Connie challenged me with going to the gym three times and working in my rooms for a few hours.  The instant they were on my plate I was overwhelmed.  How weak is that?  Seriously, I must be the most frail person on earth.  Needless to say, they didn’t get done.  Tomorrow is the last day to do anything and I’ll try to get something done, but again, no promises.

I have my excuses, very good ones if you ask me.  For exercise, I’ve had gastrointestinal distress, not the normal IBS, but a flu like distress.  I have a standard rule that I need to curtail any and all possibilities of fouling my britches in public.  I’m just now getting over it and things are back to a some-what solid footing again.  Yea me.  Working in my rooms?, too tired and just not wanting to.  It doesn’t help that I’ve been plagued with the feeling ill and then the whole dumb-bunny move of not taking my pills.  I need to not do that any more.  I didn’t take it yesterday because I didn’t want to take them too close together, but I think that needs to be for-gone with because I don’t think it would do me any harm to have extra calm in my system.

I’m feeling the effects of not having my pills.  I hate that the anger returns to quickly when I go off them.  I know I don’t have a lot of lead way with these little white life savers, and so I push it anyway.  I’m irritated to be around Mom so much and I wish the sisters would be more supportive and take her off my hands from time to time, but as the closest unemployed person in the family, they feel it is the least I can do.  It just irks me that I’m stuck.

I need to get better about these things.  I can’t just hide behind my overwhelmed self forever, no matter how much I’d like to.  I want to re-enter my life and take it by the horns and drive it to my desires, not to the worlds whims.  The start of that is to take my therapy more seriously, to take my drugs regularly and to participate more in my life.  It’s so much easier to say, so much harder to do, but I need to make the strides necessary, no matter how hard and/or painful.  It won’t kill me, or so I keep telling myself, and luckily I’ve gotten to a point in my life when I realize I won’t kill me either.

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