Monday, August 2, 2010

THE SKIPPY DIARIES



Who am I?
Trust me, there are days that I have no idea.
But I know who I used to be.
I used to have the nickname of Skippy. 
Why?
Because I was never still and I was skipping around everywhere.
That was then and this is now.


There are a number of adjectives that describe me. Even now, I still get the past and the present confused. I still think of myself as that healthy woman that wore 4 inch heels on site. I was constantly running around and one of the highlights of my year was the anniversary sale at Nordstrom's. I would hit the shoe department and stock up. 

I now look at those shoes and want to cry.

I had Manolo shoes that looked like sneakers, Jimmy Choo's and my wacko favorite, Naughty Monkey. I had Cole Haan, Brighton's and Nine West. I thought 2 inch heels were for old ladies (sorry to those of you that wore these!) and I only wore tenny's when I went to work out.

They now sit in my closet collecting dust like trophies of a by-gone age.

I'll admit that characteristics that didn't come out all that often come out on a regular basis now. Snarky? Oh, you bet! My patience level for stupidity (including my own) is not real high. I get frustrated when I can't remember ideas, words and appointments. I've put together paperwork for friends and when they walked in to the arbitrators they asked who was the attorney. Okay, I'll pat myself on the back just a little here. I was pretty good with words.  Was.

I loved to read and now the back of cereal boxes challenge my intellect. I have the attention span of a gnat. I mean, who has to read and read and re-read Harlequin romances just to catch the drift?  I had attitude; not in a bad way but I wasn't lacking in opinions or confidence. You came in to buy from me I would tell you what to do and how to do it. I could recite the disclosures practically verbatim. And I loved it. 

I loved to laugh and my sense of humor ran to the absurd. I love the roadrunner and coyote and the Acme products send me into hysterics. I love cartoons and slapstick comedy. Snoopy and Calvin and Hobbes are my favorite comic strips.  I feel that a day should never go by where you don't laugh at something. I had a real joy in all circumstances of life. I loved to live and laugh and love.

I really felt that even though life gave you trials, you could always find something to be thankful for and smile. 

UNTIL THE ACCIDENT.

I know that I shouldn't be defined by an illness or a circumstance but I'm still struggling with that concept. I am not the same as I was a couple of years ago.  Pain doesn't turn off and leave you alone at designated times. I struggle with the idea of being disabled. I struggle with the fact that I won't be selling new homes again. I struggle with the loss of brain cells. I struggle with this invisible disease called Fibromyalgia. I struggle with muscle spasms and I struggle with the daily pain. I struggle with the voodoo pain and not knowing when it's going to strike. I hate being fearful of my body and I really hate that it's betraying me. 

So what part of me was before the accident? I'm a cynic and I'm a frequent visitor of despair.com. I love computers, technology and photography. I love to observe people and read body language. I love movies and documentaries, throw in a few romantic comedies and I'm a happy camper. I love to watch the news and the stock market. I love to go to the ocean and watch the power and majesty of the waves pound the shore. I love it when the weather starts to turn cold and you can feel the slight nip in the air.  I love shoes, purses, kitchen gadgets, sheets and dishes. Put me in Williams Sonoma and I'm in heaven. I love to cook and watch the Food Network. To me, you can never have too many kitchen tools. 

I love dogs. I always have. I've never been a cat person, partly because I'm allergic but I love love love dogs.  I've had long hair Chihuahua's and named one Bebe La Strange. I've had a Havanese called Peaches that would smile at me and climb bushes to get to her toys. I had a bichon poodle pound puppy called Squirt that had a personality all her own. She was a carb dog and loved popcorn. Anytime anyone needed a home for a dog I would keep it until a good home could be found. I also make up alter ego's for them as well. Mr. H is a financial guru who makes networking calls and develops Ponzi schemes while I'm away. He and Squirt would go to the pig farm in the red wagon and bet on the pork races. My house is run for the comfort and convenience of my dogs and in  the next life I want to come back as one of my dogs.

I know I say I want my life back all the time because I'm struggling with it. I do want my life back and it's not something that can happen just because I wish it. I still haven't fully accepted what I am after this car accident. The pain, the Fibromyalgia; you spend your days feeling like you got hit with a baseball bat and see how perky you are. 

I'm not dealing with this well, am I? It's the notion that life isn't always fair. I've always hated injustice and applying it to myself isn't easy. 

So I'm still here, moving slowly, one day at a time and still trying to figure out who I am.










6 comments:

  1. Okay, Rose, who the hell was that Polly-Anna that commented on your last post? Gag me with a spoon. Makes me want to puke today. "...a precious newborn baby...?", who the hell was I kidding? I must have been jacked up on some pretty sweet stuff! In my dreams! (When are they legalizing pot for Fibro?)

    I was in a place of "on a scale of 1-10" -- 5. Do you know how often I get a five? Counting Saturday--that would be Saturday.

    I was HURTING. I had taken a fall and had done myself some serious damage. Sat. was about the third day and my neck and shoulders and head were competing for "Who Hurts the Most?" So I hit the pain pills a little too heavy and a little too close together. BAD IDEA!!! Even if it did rip the pain a new one. So, since that point in time, I have been back to "God, do I hurt!" And, back comes the lousy frame of mind.

    I have loved your last two posts - only because, boy can I relate. But, I am so sorry you are able to speak for me because YOU feel this way. Bummer. Life is hard and then you die.

    The only thing that makes this thing even approach manageable is because my friends are stewing in the same pot. What a hell of a thing.

    Fondly, and with empathy and sympathy and a big gentle hug,

    CJ

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  2. CJ you crack me up!!!!! Pollyanna....too funny! You and I are so much alike! I'll email you and I want to find out how you're doing.
    This pain thing is so awful. I feel so bad for you as well. Take care sweetie!

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  3. I didn't realize that you developed FMS from a car accident. I did as well.

    I'm so sorry you are struggling with all of this. I wish our journey could somehow be fast forwarded through this part.

    I really am glad you shared you intro, however. I enjoyed getting to know you a little better.

    I'm still hoping and praying for some 'pain free' days for you! A reprieve, PLEASE! :-)

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  4. Glad I found your blog thru this "carnival" and Jolene! I too have to have humor infused into my life daily! Also a huge dog lover! Anywayzzzz....glad to meetcha!
    Tammy

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  5. "I want my life back"

    I think you speak for all of us when you say that. I couldn't tell you how many times I've said and thought those exact words (although in my case they were framed with expletives.)

    I think you're dealing as well as any of us - pain does tend to sour the outlook and make us "snarky" (I LOVE that word!)and as long as we keep going and do the best we can, that's all we can expect of ourselves.

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  6. Nice to meet you through the Graceful Agony blog carnival: Introductions.
    Living with daily pain is a drag (to say the least); I'm sorry your shoes are in closet; a part of yourself you had to leave behind.
    You are a survivor!

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