There’s been a mutual decision between David Piazza and I after all of us discussing things over with Mom, to push the wedding back another year. So it’ll be may 2021.. we haven’t gotten much done as far as planning and in Catholics churches, need to let church priests know 6 months ahead of event.. That’d be next month, plus we’ll be moving into my parents’ house the beginning of 2020. Plus this way, I’ll be over a year post-op and better able to plan and enjoy it. Sorry for any disappointments but tis life ❤️❤️❤️🤷 we feel this will be better in long run.
Last night, I was on my pain meds and as usual the drugs made me a sappy, hormonal, emotional wreck; especially when all they do is make me tired and don’t actually help my pain, and as tired as I am, I cannot get comfy enough to actually go to sleep- which causes me to become irritable, frustrated, and emotional. Warning: Below, is how I feel on those kinds of days. You’ve been warned.
Don’t get me wrong, I do absolutely love my fiance’ and most of the time I cannot absolutely at all fathom my life without him, but on my really bad pain days when I am cooped up in the house on pain meds and can’t stand my own life, I relate to Zendaya’s lyrics of the song.
He is so positive and confident about us, and I am like that girl (because of my age difference and looking like a kid, and my disability- the “mountains,” and “doors can’t walk through”) and what the world thinks. and just waiting for him to realize that it is hopeless and impossible for us to truly be happy together. I am always thinking “he didn’t sign on for all these issues: Me hurting all the time, me lashing out at him because I am hurting and frustrated; because I’m irritable.. How can I expect him to love me when I don’t even love myself?”
Maybe he’ll teach me a thing or two, or maybe if I have such idle time, pay attention to the negativity.
It’s a lot of self-esteem issues and idle time, pain meds causing depression, being bullied from a very young age (5 years old)- it’s hard to escape the “voices” of my past, but I am working hard on it because I do love him and I know he loves me.
At a fork,
unsure which way to go,
which path to take,
where is my place?
The Mark that I will make,
to leave my name on this planet Earth,
What road do I travel?
Where will Life’s journey send me?
stuck at the fork,
indecisions and unsure feelings,
obstacles and road blocks,
refusing my passage,
another mountain to climb,
another challenge to conquer,
How do i choose?
How do I Find my place?
My place, my mark on the world,
the legacy I will leave behind,
How do I find it,
in such a huge huge world, filled with endless choices,
but physical limitations, that and fear,
preventing me,blocking me,
not trusting and believing in myself,
blame lack of self-esteem and lack of confidence,
but I’m just a small girl,in a huge huge world.
One day, I’ll grow,
let go of the fear and obstacles holding me back,
I’ll figure it out,
one day at a time,
learning and growing each day,
blossoming, and blooming into a young lady,
I’ll find my way one day,
and have my found my place in the world.
Today was not great of a day except for one little event during the middle of the day. I had gotten a ticket from Build-a-bear for the “Pay your age,” event and was able to take my “future nieces” (older one being 9 years old and the baby, 9 months.) However, earlier that day was not great.
It started by my 9-year-old “future niece,” going to get the mail at my apartment mailbox; I got a letter from St Louis billing department saying that I was “denied,” hardship assistance and didn’t meet the national poverty requirement (how is not having health insurance besides Louisiana Medicaid, and only living on SSI and food stamps, not poverty?) – side note: called and talked to someone and got it straightened out, after I had already had my anxiety panic attack because “I need this surgery but I don’t wanna go into debt and cause my family and friends to go into debt for it.” However, I had to put that anxiety attack away to go enjoy the build-a-bear event with my fiance’, his sister, her husband, and the two children.
The older sister got a “Siamese looking” cat that she named Melody and their mom picked out an adorable bear and put in a “giggle sound,” that made my 9-month-old “future niece,” smile at; we named the bear Giggles. We probably spent more than we wanted to- because if we’d done just the stuffies with no sounds or accessories, it’d have only been $10, but we got each a sound (Melody had a cat sound and the Giggles had the giggle sound effect) so add in $9 more dollars, and then each got one accessory- the cat got a purse, and I don’t remember what the baby got for hers.) The total was $31 something, so $31-$19= the two accessories costing $12 together so about $5 or $6 each. We covered about $10-15 each. It was worth it. I got to forget my anxiety and play with my “future nieces” especially the cute baby. LOL. I love them both, but adorable babies (when not crying and screaming) seem to make the world go right and make you forget your stress, whereas an older child who may not be able to entertain herself that well, may stress you more.)
After Build-a-bear, we went to eat at Cici’s pizza buffet. It was okay. I watched them feed the baby pieces of brownie and how she made that adorable smile at the taste of the chocolatey goodness, and my 9-year-old “future niece,” wanted me to sit by her. She tells me all the time she loves me, she constantly hugs me and wants my attention. She doesn’t seek that from her uncle; she’s even gone as far as to tell the family, “If DJ and Jamie break up, can we keep Jamie instead?” to which the family always corrects her, “aunty Jamie,” and I’m just thinking “don’t force her to call me something if it doesn’t feel natural to her. she doesn’t call DJ, “Uncle DJ,” LOL.
After Cici’s pizza buffet, we departed ways; they were going see a Movie at the theater where my fiance’ brother in law worked at; I think it was only so the 9-year-old wouldn’t beg to stay longer with me and her uncle at the apartment complex, because at the Build-a-bear thing, when we were leaving, she kept saying, “I wish I didn’t have to go home. I wanna stay longer with yall.” Which broke my heart having to be stern and tell her “no,” because she needed to get back and do her Homeschool SchoolWork and plus I didn’t feel that I could entertain her properly: I was still stressing about that letter, in the back of my mind. I told her, we’d try to get her again before I have my surgery in August.
When I got home, I finally had gotten in touch with someone in billing to discuss the letter about being “denied,” financial assistance. They explained that despite it being out of state Medicaid, they were still going to try to file with them, so currently, my balance showed $0.00. The department explained that if Medicaid denies the claim and if I get another bill, just to call them back and explain how I got another bill, and to reprocess my application for financial assistance. So all that anxiety and worry and my panic attack, were basically for nothing because I am not completely “denied,” just denied if Medicaid accepts the claim. I hate how they word the letters, it makes worry creep in. Mom said it was a lesson I need to learn because if I want a family, I can’t be freaking out like that all the time. She also explained how I am not alone in this “battle,” for my obstacles and stuff with my disabilities, I have family, friends, David, his family, etc. But overall that it is the devil playing with me and doesn’t want me to trust in God my father and savior. I need to tell him, “be gone, Satan. My God, my father, loves me and I am wonderfully made for a purpose. He has led me this far for a reason.”
I will try to do better to trust in my God and savior, my loving father, my almighty creator. Amen.
Also when I got home, it started raining so of course, my back started hurting, so I took a 3-hour nap on Pain meds. After waking up, my stomach decided to reject the pizza (I am guessing it was the pizza: my abdomen was swollen, I was bloated and cramping so bad that it sent pain into my sides, my sides of my abdomen were sensitive to touch, and the really bad cramps left me short of breath. It is slowly getting relief after Tums and Pepto Bismol and just time.
Sometimes I wish my life was easy, but God never promised an easy life- Thank you, Adam and Eve, for original sin messing everything up; if they wouldn’t have given in to the serpent’s temptations, we’d all be happy and carefree, running around butt- naked in the Garden of Eden and not knowing any pain or difference. No bullying, no stress, no strife. *Sigh* Paradise lost. However, we are not alone, Jesus, God’s only son, had to die on the cross for crimes he didn’t commit. He suffered, why should we be any better than him and not have to suffer? the answer is, we shouldn’t. Anyway, I am rambling now. Goodnight, God Bless, and try to find the silver lining 🙂
We had nothing left in the fridge and around noon I started to get hungry. I quickly seasoned up some chicken breasts and cut them into bite size pieces, put some oil in the skillet and grilled/sauteed some chicken despite already having planned a meal for supper with chicken- Baked Chicken Parmesan. Oh well. David didn’t complain and both meals came out good. I’ll probably defrost some ground meat to make tacos Tuesday night.
Now, my joints ache and everything hurts, not just from being on my feet cooking, but also we have some rain predicted for later and that affects my body as well. Just another average day in my life.
So a lot of People have no issues with Disney movies or children’s programming promoting heterosexual “need a man/prince,” mentality, but as soon as something airs with homosexual relations, everyone that is crazy traditional religious is all up in arms and “grab your pitchforks and torches, burn the blasphemers.” It’s 2019 people, there should be no more homophobia, transphobia, disability-phobia, dwarf-phobia, racism, sexist ideas, or any of that stuff. The old testament was before Jesus’ time, the new testament was around Jesus teachings but actually written by “followers” of Jesus. Who knows, they could have thrown in their own views or maybe when it was translated from Hebrew or whatever language, something got “lost in translation.” I mean, think about it, Jesus hung out with the sinners, prostitutes, the “scum of the scum,” as people viewed them. He taught love and acceptance. Not trying to change their ways by saying “You’re GOING TO HELL!” he did it through love, he made them want to turn from their sins, not try to force it.
Today there was an article on WAFB Channel 9 about a My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Episode that featured the character, Scootaloo, being looked after by her same-sex couple aunts; Aunt Holiday and Aunt Lofty. First, it was Arthur about Mr. Ratburn and a gay wedding, and now this. People were all pissed about both “It isn’t appropriate for children,” “Protect our children,” “Satan’s agenda,” blah blah blah.
I may have been brought up Catholic all my life, and I still love my religion, faith, and God almighty, but the organization has its own faults ..*Cough* *Cough* Pedo Priests getting frisky with the altar boys or whatever. We are all human, we all have faults, we all sin.
But the media are doing things like this to try to be relatable and give representation to minorities and their families: Homosexuals(The child or the parents), bi-racial (parents or child), single-parent households, being raised by someone other than parents (Grandparents/uncles/aunts/cousins, adopted, orphaned, fostered, etc.), transsexuals (parents or child), those with disabilities. With more representation and showing that these people aren’t weirdos or “freaks,” and that they are just like everyone else and shouldn’t be targeted, harassed, bullied, etc. over stuff they can’t control.
Since a lot of parents tend to shove their ideas and beliefs down their children’s throats, and not teach their kids to not be little assholes, its up to society to also push in some compassion and empathy because there are many walks of life and no one should be bullied to the point of trauma, depression, homicide, or suicide.
A bad storm passed through Louisiana this week so it has been quite a bit of sleepless nights for me lately and then add in the dreaded once a month bullshit us females have to deal with, adding in stress, anxiety, hormones, emotional roller coaster, all that (sarcastic tone) “fun.” Tonight, I tossed and turned for 2 hours while my fiance’ just lays next to me snoring; sure, I could wake him up and make him suffer with me, but that is selfish plus he works to provide for us, so I guess he needs the sleep more than I do, but it sure would be nice to be able to talk these things out instead of blogging them.
I have a mattress that can elevate the head, it helps with migraines and sometimes my upper back (then I gotta deal with my lower back and hips hurting), but tonight my upper back is hurting and I am not even gonna use the head-elevation because lately it has been making my fiance’ back hurt in the morning; which sent me down the dreaded “rabbit hole” of the uncertainty of a future together: What if I become bed-ridden, what if he has to help me with everything more than he does now? That isn’t what he signed on for! It isn’t fair to him. I know he made a commitment to me and he constantly reminds me of it anytime I start crying and freaking out about how much pain I am in and the fears that sends into me about how uncertain my life and future are; I just don’t want him to have regrets or resentments. I love him, I really do, but when these fears kick in, I go into flight mode and tend to push him away, thinking I am saving him from being stuck in a sucky future with me and my damn disability. How can I expect him to accept it and what it does to me, if I cant even accept it completely myself?
If there was a pill created to make me “normal,” like everyone else in society, I would take it! Even though I also feel like having my disability has made me a well-rounded, wise, empathetic, compassionate, supportive, loyal, passionate person. Does it make me a bad person? Why is it I can be a support system and cheerleader for others with disabilities but yet I cant even accept myself completely? Does it make me a hypocrite? Maybe its just the pain talking; well the pain and the damn devil. I need to really work on myself and loving myself for me; whole-y and completely. Maybe after my surgery to fix my rods, maybe my pain will be better, and I can start being happy again. One can only hope.