5 Signs of Codependency — MakeItUltra™

By Dr. Perry, PhD “A lot of the time codependency looks like intense love, but “needing” another person often stems from fear, not love.” ~Jennifer Kass 1. You feel like you will die without the other person The first time I ever experienced what I would call true love, I began to think about my […]

via 5 Signs of Codependency — MakeItUltra™

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How To Enjoy Life: 10 Ways To Stop Running After Happiness And Finally Find What Feels Good Now — Thought Catalog

If you were to ask, many people would undoubtedly agree that they believe the purpose of life is to enjoy it. However, so many people struggle to be present and actually experience their lives as they are. The culprits are varied, and can include everything from unrealistic expectations to trying too hard to feel good…

via How To Enjoy Life: 10 Ways To Stop Running After Happiness And Finally Find What Feels Good Now — Thought Catalog

Train Wreck

A while ago, my ex-husband decided my daughter and I needed space from each other. It had been tense for various reasons. I asked him where she would go and he told me a friend’s home. I thought it more likely that she would go to her boyfriend’s home, an idea that filled me with dread and made my flesh crawl.

I tried to pretend that she was at a friend’s. My ex would meet her sometimes for coffee and relay snippets to me. ‘I love being alone’ she apparently said. So my ex said she’s not with her boyfriend then, he probably gives her no space. My hops soared. He could be right. I hardly dared to believe it. Then he told me she would come home yesterday. I asked my ex to get flowers for her room. I asked that we wait for her to arrive before our dinner yesterday evening.

No sign of my daughter. She never arrived and never will. She has made her home with her boyfriend’s family, and relations are not good. My ex then decides to tell me she had said she felt as though she’d been kicked out. My heart broke. I am devastated. This boyfriend and his father have caused me so much anguish over the years. The father answers my phone call and puts the phone to the radio. He hands notes addressed to him to his son. My daughter was under 18 when they started going out, but the crass father, Sean Downes thought she was an adult. She was not.

I am beyond despair, I am in hell. My daughter, whom I raised alone, invested every emotion in, love as much as life itself has thrown me away with the help of my wretched ex husband. I wish I never met him.

 

 

Creative-Commons As (unqualified) Acts of Love By James Diaz

Left Out In The Cold: A Journal

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In the first chapter of Ranceire’s Sentiments, Davide Panagia outlines Partager/sharing and the subtle ways in which Ranciere approaches politics through a sentimental reading and writing. Sentimental, often used as a disparaging comment, as in one who is too sentimental, here comes to define a way of reading and sensing that has less to do with any natural drawn lines of distinction, origin, or absolute narrative and more to do with what resonates, contrasted with the seemingly natural but arbitrary make up of divisions and specificities (well ordered systems of knowledge and representation) we find a more anarchic sentiment at play.

Of Ranciere’s notions of mediation and in-betweenness, Panagia writes that:

[his] theory of radical mediation requires that the terms of relation not be treated as transcendental and immobile but as elements or parts of a kinematic arrangement. The point is a classically sentimental one: it is not…

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Downhill Ski-ing on this Journey

I realise that my blog posts about my health are getting farther and farther apart. This is partly due to the honesty I invest in telling my truth, and also because it’s just plain harder to say, as it snowballs with negative facts. Fortunately, I don’t let those facts overcome me, in my everyday living.

So, last Saturday, well ten days ago, I woke at around four a.m and found I could barely breathe. My chest felt like a brick and my windpipe was whistling. So my carer called the NHS number we need to call, and before I could protest, an ambulance arrived with three paramedics. I qualified for three. (I don’t know why there were three. They were all very nice. One was obviously very senior in rank.) It all goes to make these visits, which are becoming more and more frequent, more interesting and good humoured.

I had to go through all the reasons why I now try very hard to stay out of the Emergency Room, which they accepted and after some discussion, they nebulised me. I found it very hard to inhale the stuff as my breathing was so irregular, and felt only slightly better afterwards. Then I was given another nebuliser. That was a surprise. But apparently they can keep giving them. I get the shakes as a side effect,  but I don’t care that much if I can breathe better. Then I was asked if I had ever been intubated because of my breathing? I felt alarmed. No. (And let’s not start now, I thought.) But this question was part of amore in depth discussion of my breathing problems and the cause, the treatment, and photos of the senior guy’s little girl.

A call was made to the On Call doctor, and a lengthy chat was had, most of which I missed because the other two paramedics kept asking me things. Then I was told the duty doctor would visit within two hours and prescribe antibiotics and that from then on I would need to have antibiotics in the house at all times. This will avoid waiting for scripts to be written and filled, especially at weekends.

The duty doctor did come and write a prescription. My carer got it filled and I started the course as soon as I could. Each day there was one dose of six tablets, plus three more single tablets spaced out over the twenty-four hour day. I soon experienced side effects,   like nausea, clamminess, and loss of appetite. At almost the end of the antibiotics, I spiked a temperature and was wheezing again, which made me a little nervous, but it passed. I slept a great deal and am now recovered.

That was actually the second ambulance that attended me that week. A few days before the events I’ve described, my carer called the non-emergency number because I’d had increasing pain in my chest. That one arrived with siren as well as lights. Now I understand that some of the pain I get in my chest and shoulder is referred pain from my diaphragm, which is a bit out of place and somewhat stressed. An ECG showed that my heart is somewhat stressed too, but that what it shows is normal for me. This makes me think that there’s almost nothing normal  about me. But I’m okay with that. I like to be outstanding.

As I write, I’m expecting a call from my own doctor. To chat about events and how to go forward. Nothing I haven’t mentioned here, though. I find all this palaver tedious. Why can’t it just be input into a computer and updated? I’m no expert on my health, I’m only expert at what seems to work for me and especially at what doesn’t.

I’m so looking forward to my daughter’s return from her holiday. I’ve missed her so much. I’m enjoying looking at Instagram and seeing all sorts of fascinating and beautiful photos and videos from around the world. It’s really brought me joy and wonder. So there are many ways to stay happy and cheerful. And with a dog like mine, laughter is never far away.