SITREP is the military abbreviation for Situation Report.
(I was never actually in the military, but I’ve had sex with a lot of people who were in the military, so I feel like that qualifies me to use military talk.)
(That isn’t exactly true.)
(I haven’t had sex with “a lot of people” who were in the military, I’ve had a lot of sex with a man (or two)(not at the same time!) who were in the military.)
At this very moment, I am in my Mom’s 100+ year old rock house on our family farm in extreme southeastern Colorado. It’s beautiful here (in a prairie/farm kind of way) but the main thing is that it is quiet. QUIET. I’m sure it’s not always this quiet around here, but today there are no farm machines around, there is no traffic noise, there is no construction noise, no dogs barking, even the cicadas have been quiet this morning.
Here’s what I hear: The wind in the trees. Birds chirping occasionally. My fingers tapping on the keyboard. Mom turning the pages of her book upstairs.
My brain likes this quietness. My body relaxes into the quiet. It stirs a realization that our life in the city (ok, a suburb of a city, but compared to the farm, it’s a city…) is almost unbearably loud.
We have no TV service out here at the moment and the internet access is sketchy at best, due to the location and the super-thick rock walls. For the most part it has been good to be somewhat cut-off, but I have to admit that I went a little nuts yesterday when I couldn’t get any of the 9/11 Memorial Services, etc.
I’m better today.
The Great Anti Anti-Depressant Experiment of 2011 is still going on and I have to admit that I’m kind of shocked that I haven’t required inpatient treatment by this point. I’m only half-kidding about that. There have been some tough, tough days but overall I’m managing to keep my head above water.
(Note that my sassy Virgo sister might disagree with my conclusion that I’m keeping my head above water since she talks me off the ledge at least once a week.)
Here’s what I have been good about: cleaning up my diet (sayonara aspartame!), taking my nutritional supplements once a day (need to be taking them consistently two times a day).
Here’s what I want to be better at: managing diet, taking supplements, sticking with an exercise program, riding my old lady bike while the weather is still awesome, sleep management (getting to bed at same time, getting up at same time), explore gluten-free diet, writing consistently, asking for help more consistently.
The Mass of Dark Matter is still out there, but writing about/to/for it seemed to help. The great comments posted here and the private emails really helped me to appreciate the work that I have done, and to see where more work might need to be done. Anyway. It feels less awful in some ways, but I still haven’t been able to concentrate on (a) writing anything meaningful, or (b) addressing any of the issues contributing to the MDM.
You know how I have Compulsive Honesty Disorder (a/k/a Obsessive Disclosure Disorder)? Well, I do. I think I’ve written about it, but now I’m not finding the link. Anyway. Trust me, I have it. So. I’m feeling the need to write about how, while I totally have a Moratorium on dating and (arguably) sex, which is totally still in effect, it turns out there is a Grandfather Clause (Gross. No. It has nothing to do with actual grandfathers.)(I have nothing against grandfathers, that just isn’t the point.) buried deep in the fine print. Which may or may not have been invoked recently. So I’m just about ready to write about that.
My artistic genius mother (with fabulous hair) started a Clinical Trial right after her 68th birthday party (a/k/a “Lamarpalooza”) in mid-July and, frankly, IT SUCKS. I’ll spare you the details, but “nightmare of epic proportions” is not an exaggeration. Luckily, her Clinical Trial oncologist is a SAINT, and once she realized how little quality of life Mom was actually enjoying, she decided to cut Mom’s dose of the Clinical Trial drug in half. (Of course Mom always has the option to go off the medication altogether, but her latest tests indicate the nightmare drug might actually be working in the sense of inhibiting new tumor growth and spread of the cancer, so it’s not all that easy to just say “no more” to the drug.) Anyway. That was last Wednesday and while she still has the overwhelming fatigue, she has had little to no pain in her abdomen. No pain = no pain medication = Mom has a life. Yay!
My kid appears to be enjoying the hell out of college…. 🙂
And he isn’t being a total dick about communicating with me, which makes things a lot better/less traumatic.
One more day on the farm and then it’s back to Denver tomorrow!