Demon bitch

I haven’t written lately. Well I have but not things I think I can post or should post. Another page admin mentioned on her page how she worries about what she posts and how it will be received. My first reaction was… “Who gives a fuck what anyone thinks.” And then I thought about the people in my life that I am protecting from my demons. Demons that don’t need to destroy any more lives- especially if I can prevent the demons from being known to them.

I am in a funk. It’s right here. I am up to my armpits in its stink. I can feel it- it’s cold and hard and bitter. I don’t like sharing this part of me. But I promised myself I’d be honest and upfront in this blog so here goes. I just pray that God protects the ones I love most from my demons.

When I woke up yesterday I felt pretty good. I had my to-do list that I was ready to tackle. I made it till just after noon before the funk came crawling in. I’m wearing a 30 day heart monitor. It’s been going off on its own. Most of the time it’s been because I moved wrong and the wires pulled. But yesterday it went off twice while I was mopping. Mopping!  The words the tech said to me were these “We’ll let the doctor know about this but it’s not something urgent.” All my other incidents I was told “it was the wire.”

Those words have me worried. And my worry has allowed the demon bitch to come closer than I’d like. I am a worrier. I know this and make a daily effort not to. I hide my anxiety and worry from my parents because Mom only adds to it and Daddy- well hell he has enough on his plate without me adding anything else.

All my life I’ve fought one health issue or another: chronic ear infections that caused tinnitus, endometriosis that ripped me up and took from me the chance to have a biological child, asthma that likes to pop up when all is well, allergies that took seafood out of my diet (yeah I’m still pissy about that one!), fibromyalgia which will never go completely away and NOW a heart issue that may not be fixed. For once, JUST ONCE, I wanted to hit the winning jackpot and have one health issue be completely resolved. But NO… just fucking can’t have that. It’s too much y’all… just too much to handle right now.

The worst part of all this is the not knowing what exactly is going on with my heart. I have all the worst case and best case scenarios running  through my head: pace maker or defibrillator needed, stroke, heart attack, permanent heart damage from having it beat too fast for much too long, just need more time to heal, body hasn’t adjusted yet to the new slower normal heart rate. I have played these out in my head over and over since yesterday afternoon. I have tried to ignore them, distract myself, etc. It’s not working.

I had a very vivid dream of Tony last night. He and I were playing a game and he was winning. He looked at me and said “Shit rolls downhill”. I can’t stop hearing that, thinking that, looking back and seeing that it has been rolling downhill for a long time. And that it’s hard as hell to not get overwhelmed and depressed about it all.

I am here in Denver to make my dad’s life easier and take care of mom. I am supposed to be able to keep up with all the house stuff and keep mom safe. I should be able to for pete's sake- I'm only 36 and it's not rocket science. But I’m not. There’s laundry that needs to be done, dusting that hasn’t been done in months, mopping of more floors that is desperately needed, bathrooms need to be cleaned- scrubbed, vacuuming needs to get done, a yard that needs to be raked and mowed, dog poop that needs to be “discovered” now that the snow is melting, trees that need to be trimmed and bulbs that need to be planted. And there is my own list of goals that needs to be addressed: a novel written, blogs written and posted, letters written, lawsuit papers filled out, purses and tote bags sewn, a blanket knitted and a box sent to my niece for her birthday in 9 days.

I am failing at it all right now; I am failing at living today. I should be grateful for a to-do list, for waking up every day, for being able to be out here to help. Instead I can’t see the forest, the trees, the flowers or the damn bear shitting in the woods. All I can see is the cave I desperately want to crawl into.

If I was still in WI I would crawl in to my cave. I’d turn off my phone, close the curtains in every room, order a pizza, grab some movies and not do a damn thing for two or three days. The dog and I would become one with my recliner, and the bed and I’d be okay- eventually. I’d allow myself to feel all this shit and then decide I’m stronger than my demons. Instead I keep tamping it down. I keep telling everyone I’m fine. I plaster a smile on my face and ignore how bad the cave is calling.

I don’t want to long for the cave, for the refuge it gives me for a short time. I don’t want to feel so overwhelmed that I can’t breathe. I don’t want to hear my demons in my head. I don’t want to have to think about how certain shit has been rolling downhill since I was a child. I don’t want to poison two people who I love so much with the truth of what my childhood really was. I don’t want to still fight those demons. I want them gone. I want them out of my head. I want to not feel guilt, shame, anger and desperation over things I couldn’t control. I want to not miss Tony so much. I want to not feel like my life ended the day his did. I want to celebrate his life and not see his death when the demon bitch comes too close to me. I want with all my heart to forget all the bad shit that has happened in the last five and a half years and remember only the good.

I do. I truly do. And most days I can. It’s the days like today that I remember it all. I remember the anguish, the betrayal, the guilt- every bad feeling I’ve ever had. I see every bad choice, every wrong turn. I can’t stop the bad from replaying over and over in my head. I don’t want to eat, I’m not really hungry but I end up eating stuff I shouldn’t and then I get down on myself for my weight. I pull away from friends. I am tired and all I want to do is sleep. I taste the sadness, the fear, the failure.

I know in a day or two this will pass. And I guess that’s an improvement. I can finally realize its coming and try to handle it better. These bad days are coming less often now. The intensity is still as high as it ever was and maybe it always will be. I don’t know.

All I can do is use the tools I’ve been given by therapists, friends and God, to get through this. I know I can and will. Tonight as I lay down I’ll recite Our Father and ask for the help I need to beat the demon bitch back once again. Tomorrow is a new day… and maybe tomorrow I’ll see the bear and offer him some toilet paper so he can go on with his day and I can smell the flowers. 

~The Composer