October and I are no longer BFFs. Just sayin’.
This month has been riddled with appointments (think of a tommygun loaded with dry-erase markers having a get-go on your calendar) and of those plethora of “rememberings” that keep your brain up for hours and hours on consecutive nights because, frankly, who else is going to do the remembering of said rememberings???
Yesterday I was relieved in a way to have read Wil Wheaton’s posting about how sometimes you just have “MMMMMARRAAAHHH” kind of days and I can sure-as-shit tell you that, as of late, I’ve been having “MMMMMARRAAAHHH” kind of days.
My fatigue is directionally proportionate to how much of the rememberings there are. Goes without saying.
THIS, my dear friends, is when #gladitude has to kick in.
See, #gladitude has to kick in so that I’m not losing my shit and you’re not listening to how I lost my shit on the evening news….y’know…robbing Haagen Daaz stores and the like.
My physio for my lower lumber has commenced and it’s…”pathetic”…at best. Oh, sweet mother of jeebuz it WILL work, and I WILL have a marked decrease in pain…but the extent of the damage in my back is such that I am literally having to start at Level Zero.
Oh, yes. There most assuredly IS a Level Zero. Ask Po.
Ask my “ass-is-smokin’-alphalfa-ablaze-draggin’-my-carcass-through-life” self.
It’s frustrating and unrealistic. Ergo, I’m pissed off. With a side of stubborn.
My cat. Specifically, my calico sweetness of awesome, Sookie (pronounced: Su-kehhh, of course). She likes to paw underneath the door when I’m peeing. True story. And it’s totally fun. And for 2.2 minutes I play with my cat from under the door and there are no rememberings to be had.
My car. Not just the physical car…that’s “gratitude.” No, the concept of my car. It’s freedom. It’s driving halfway around the city to visit other stores that I wouldn’t normally visit, simply because there are many that are closer. I can travel…because I can. And I can see the Colour!! of the autumn foliage…and see the geese flying so low you swear you could hop on and take off from the chaos of your reality…
Time. Not *my* time. *Your* time. I’ve been receiving nominations for Lupus Interrupted in many categories of the WEGO Health Activist Awards. That means more than one person took time out of their own busy lives to type a few words of what they’ve been able to take from my sharing and living such a open-viewed journey through chronic illness.
I’m like the Windex of Chronic Badasssery.
Have a gander at what I read yesterday when I’d shared a post about a more recent nomination (Hero Award):
“I am a firm believer in everything you do Pattie your voice inspires others to persevere, you my friend are the rock in their foundation. I have also found myself on the path of supporting and speaking out for others during their fight. I could only hope that I have the ability to do it as powerfully and eloquently as you do. You strength and determination in the face of adversity, your ability to recognize weakness and not only acknowledge it but use it to your own advantage is a lesson that more people should learn. Xoxo <3 “
This was from my dear friend, Jamie M. and I was leaking fluid from my ocular orbs. True story.
Now it means TWO things of time: One, that people read, and two, that people are moved to share their own views of my endeavors and aspirations.
Makes sharing things like using Fast Freeze Spray on one’s lower lumber, not realizing that the resulting liquid-drippage down one’s ass-crack would freeze one’s Hoo-Ha for 2.5 hours.
I like to teach people and share important information. (o.O)
My friends. Not in the “I have friends.” kind’o’way. That’s gratitude. I watch them on social media (totally NOT a creeper, I swear!) living and doing…being and creating…living and owning. By the things *they* share…I get to support *them* in *their* hopes and dreams…endeavors and aspirations.
That makes me genuinely happy.
It also affords me the time to not have to be doing the rememberings.
‘Tis a beautiful, fluid dynamic. <3
The sun. Not because it’s warm and bright as the temperature slowly settles into late-autumn digits. That’s gratitude. The realization that there’s a friggin’ space-body up there in the sky that continually amazes me just how mutha’ freakin’ special I am. Why?
Because out of the statistical probability of life itself in the vast expanse of the universe…
I am alive.