Quote from: Shantel on July 03, 2014, 08:59:43 AM
Yesterday I was removing a TV dish from my roof when I caught the toe of my sandal under the edge of the ridge cap and did a really hard face plant. The granular composition surface sanded a lot of hide off my right hand, arm and shoulder and I plunged over the edge and landed pretty hard on the concrete patio below. Thankfully nothing was broken but I was a bloody mess and had a miserable night, took two oxycodone pills and was still in pain all night. Now I feel drugged and just plain awful all over, at almost 71 I'm too damned old for this kind of stuff!
Lesson learned: Sandals are inappropriate footwear on a roof, oh and I am banned from going up on the roof now.
Glad you're okay Shan, as in not hospitalized or dead, scraped and bruised, at least that'll heal. I slipped yesterday morning when walking Snickers, she wanted to go talk to a young lady that was walking her dog, I had stepped aside before that so they could pass, well Snickers pulled too hard and we were standing in a rocky spot, a rock rolled out from under my foot, I slid down on my ass. No injury though, but goes to show how easy it is to have an accident that could go wrong. Yeah, like that fall I had a couple years ago onto that cinder block, could've been more than just cracked ribs, couldn't been cracked open head. Sometimes we do some stupid things, the important thing is that we live through without much damage, just enough to learn our lesson.
Last night while typing up a message to one of my friends on here suddenly out of the blue the glands on the right side of my throat started bothering me, swelling up, hurting, chest pain followed that. It probably lasted a little over an hour, then went away. Don't know what caused it, but I was drinking a lot of tea, so it could've been that. I thought maybe my tooth was going to start hurting because last time my glands swelled up a toothache followed, but not this time. Cross-stitched for a bit while my mom was on the internet watching Dick Van Dyke, I was sitting in the rocking chair stitching and glancing at that once in a while. I enjoy watching those old shows sometimes, they just don't make good clean humor like that anymore.
This morning, woke up early, probably out of habit. Head has been itching me so much its driving me crazy. My hair looks like crap too, so dry and thin looking. I don't know what's wrong, stress, something else. But the thinning out and bald spots around hairline aren't making me feel too good, actually scares me, it'd be nice if it was just some medical condition, a temporary issue and it'll grow back once dealt with, I still worry that its male baldness pattern that because of my sporadic taking of estrogen and too many gaps in between, that this found a moment to take hold and start the process of eventual permanent hair loss. Yeah, that's all I need to crush my confidence.
Even worst is how insensitive my mom is about it, "Meg, you're how old?" sounded aggitated as usual. Uh, yeah, but I don't want to go friggin' bald! She gets tired of hearing about my problems, saying she has problems too. But the difference is, I don't act the same towards her about it, hearing just as much about her aches and pains and skin rashes as she does about my hormonal problems and now hair, I may not say much but I don't critisis her. Bad enough I told her I had a doctor's appointment Monday morning, "I have to work that day!" she exclaims. Fine, then don't take me, I'll just have to find another way. She said she'll take me though, but not without a little bit of grumpiness over that chore.
Sometimes I don't think she takes my issues serious enough, always brushing them off like one day I won't just break and suddenly not be there anymore. I love my mom, have always been there for her, and I know she loves me, but her lack of support the way I need her, the insensitive remarks, the selfish putting material things over me all too much, sometimes I wish I'd had left long ago. Sometimes I feel like a prisoner, always there's something keeping me here. Still I think and knew it then, she got a dog to assure I stick around, knowing that once I loved it I wouldn't be going anywhere. I think if it weren't for Snickers I'd gone walkabout.
Back when we were homeless in Arlington, one day, this shortly after I sold all my NES games for a thousand dollars (I will later learn this too was necessary for me to be rid of, not just because we needed the money for survival but also for my soul) to keep us going I was heavily contemplating walking, splitting the money, going my own way. I thought, she'd be better off without me and I know I'd be okay, but I felt guilty thinking such things, that it was my fault all this happened anyway (the whole acting like a girl thing afterall according to my sister was just for attention), that I had an obligation to make sure my mom was going to be okay. We got into it together, had to pull through it together, and we did, though not without help from others. After all, the reality is, we don't complement each other very well, our personalities being much the same we clash a lot, but we're just used to each other, that I think being one of few factors holding us together.
Back before I ever got on hormones I used to say how much I wished to die and had made attempts at killing myself, my mom used to always say, "I don't feel sorry for people who kill themselves." Or, "If you're going to do it, then do it.", or "There's a lot of people a lot worst off than you." or other such thing having to do with selfishness over taking my own life, how it'd be on those left behind and that others are out there suffering and would love to just be alive. But it is my life, and her remarks weren't helping. Only thing keeping me from doing it was hope, maybe it'd get better, and fear, of the unknown thereafter death. But I hated her everytime she showed lack of concern for my life when I needed her most.
When I had vertigo some years ago it messed me up pretty bad, I was having all kinds of chemical intolerances, everything was bothering me, bringing on anxiety like I never had before. Sometimes things would bother me that she was doing, or things she had, and I'd tell her, and she'd just say, "Well you're just going to have to deal with it because I'm not getting rid of anything!" or this one, an example of many, her waxing the floor (we had wood floors in our last apartment in Arlington), the chemicals were too strong for me, made me severely nauseous and dizzy, but it was important to her, the floor looked terrible. Okay mom whatever, so the floor is more important than my health. Stuff like that takes days to air out completely.
Sadly to say, when the ->-bleeped-<- hit the fan and the big fight broke out between her and my sister (and my brother) that day we became homeless the first time, I sat by and let it happen, did nothing to try to calm things down, make things better. Its like I felt it was necessary for it to play out as it did. That maybe in the end lessons would be learned on all sides. I caused my family to fall apart, just being me, even though I can't help my feelings (okay, so now I'm starting to cry), being transsexual is not a choice, I was not doing it for attention nor would it ever be a passing phase, I had to live with it and always got reminded about it too, about how difficult it made it for everyone else. Sure there was much said about mom being a bad mother also, she was not, she fought hard for each of us, made a lot of sacrifices in favor of us instead of herself, but as time went on and we all grew older, started drifting apart and then suddenly that night totally fell to pieces, things had been on a decline for so long, I guess I just gave up. Maybe we can start over. Maybe things would mend. Sometimes I hate myself for what I did, or should I say didn't do that night, but then, actually, truthfully I don't think it would've done any good.
Long ago when my brother and I left our father, moved in with mom, sometimes we'd have troubles, my brother was simply a little ->-bleeped-<- (always has been), and I had problems in school, there were a few times my mom had said out of frustration that she wished she had all girls (part of that came true, me). Now, with how here life turned out, I always have to hear how if she could do it all over again, she wouldn't have had children (as if we're all to blame). I know its out of frustration, anger can make anyone say the wrong things, but also say what they really feel too. I try not to take it to heart, but it does bother me, a lot. It hurts, deep. At those times is when I think about slitting my throat right in front of her just so she'd know how I felt about it.
I think no matter how my mom's life would have turned out, she'd always have something to bitch about. She had it all before, so much stuff it was rediculous, and yet still she didn't appreciate it, so she lost it all, the material things as well as a shattered family, a daughter that will never be close to her again even though they do talk on the phone (talking to my sister is like walking on pins and needles, always ever had to be careful of how you word things), a son that she'll most likely never see or even hear from again (he followed his father's footsteps, leaving family behind completely), and our relationship though ever together for so long hangs by a thread, a strong one, but still only a thread.
To top it off, lots of chest hairs must've sprouted during sleep last night, had them all over the place. 'sigh' Gets epilator and pulls them out. Guess the pills aren't working well enough. My point in going to see an endo, I have to know what's going on with me and what best to do about it. My low energy levels and quick to lose stamina, the anxiety that I've had since my teens, those glands that I've always had trouble with in my neck, the drop in weight, circulator problems (numbness in fingers, toes, face, ass cheeks), and now the hair loss. My mood feels more stable, I'm certainly handling it all better than if I weren't on any hormones, I'd be a wreck for sure, crying and whatnot, but I'm doing okay so far (okay, obviously by much of what I just said above, maybe not so much). The hair problem is bothering me most of all right now though, my hair has always been important to me, I don't care that I'm going on 40, I'm not a man, sure in body, but in mind I'm like arrrgh, no, not my pretty hair! Anyway, poured some canola oil into an empty spray bottle I had, spritzed that through my hair and scalp, still itching but not as bad as before, sure my hair looks extra greasy right now but I prefer it over looking like dry hay.
I had to call my work up because I realized this morning that I made a doctor's appointment but didn't think to look to see if I was scheduled to work that day or not, and I am. Boss lady wasn't in, won't be today, so I'll have to call back tomorrow to make sure I can take that day off, maybe swap out with working another day.
Took my pill at 9 this morning. Then took Snickers out and threw out the trash. Its going to get up to the mid 90s today, was yesterday, will be for the rest of the week, want to make sure I don't have to walk anywhere, that sun's a killer.
I didn't expect to type so much, guess I have a lot on my mind. But it could be worst, I could not say anything at all. Mom's up, getting ready for work, I can't be mad at her, after all I'm no angel.
