This is post-full-blown-migraine day #4. I felt just enough normal that I made it to work. Yay. And then it came back. I was at a breaking point. I was either going to break it, or it was going to break me. Stupid stupid migraines make me mean and put me in a p*ss-poor mood. =( That's not nice, and I know it. Thank God for my saint of a chiropractor who fit me in last minute. I think we may have put it out to bay for at least another day or two. I'll take it. Honestly.
Must bad things always gang up and attack at once? Why is that fair? Can't I negotiate my way around it? No. That's poopy. I at least want a fighting chance...but no. I caught someone in a blatant lie today--right to my face. Why is that necessary? I can handle the truth. I don't like it always, but I'll take the truth any day over a bold-face lie. I don't like liars. I don't like that I will always question them after this. It hurts. My wall grows taller.
The bittiest of the bebes gave me thrush for mother's day. This too is not fun at all. Part of me thinks this is a little bit funny, but I am not amused that it hasn't gone away yet.
The hubby got xrays Friday of his back. His back has not fused AT ALL. This is ridiculous. It's been 8 months. This undoubtedly means another surgery in the near future. I believe in miracles, and hope hope hope that The Big Guy can cut him some slack. I just don't think he can make it through another one. That is the saddest thing-- because in my heart I feel that and it scares the crap out of me. If my migraines are in any way related to stress, this is a big contributor. I wonder if I can bill his lame surgeon for my loss of sanity related to this?
I saw my best friend this weekend. LOVE HER. She brought me my tupperware that I left in Calistoga in March. Isn't she great?
Also saw my cousin this weekend. He's SO COOL. I've never been cool. But he is SO cool. He's in the music industry and he's so fun and humble and spontaneous and ALIVE. (There's that word again.) He actually knew the words to a Hannah Montana song and Jonas Brothers too....my 3 bebes were in AWE. He's always been like that. Summer of 97 (after another crappy set of events) he brought me up to SF with him. I HAD to get out of the Valley, needed to get out. We rode our bikes around the city during the day. He knew all the back streets and amazing sights. And at night he'd take me to his gigs with him. He'd slip me in the back door and tell the staff I was "with the band." I felt cool then, totally wasn't... but I felt like it for a second.
What will it take for me to get out of this funk? I want to take life as it comes and take what I need and just leave the rest. I don't want to be bogged down with the things I don't understand, the people who lie, and stupid surface stuff. I want to feel like I'm riding on the coat-tails of some awesome adventure: captivated by the beauty and glory that God has infused into the tiniest but most meaningful things in life. When I look back I can see these things clear as day. But I'm so caught up in the here and now that I can hardly see any of it---even though it's right in front of my face. The hurts hurt so much I just can't seem to move past them. I play them through my head over and over again, and it almost gives it power in a way.
Someone told me once that "You have to get out of the rut, and into the river." You keep doing the same thing, expecting a different outcome. Does it ever change? No. You're in a rut. You keep going round and round wanting things to change but never changing yourself. You have to get out of the rut and get into the river--- 'cause a river's going places, and you're not.
I like it. Gimme that river.