death on a cracker

i have no idea where the phrase "death on a cracker" comes from but i know it when i feel it.  

 

today's been a hard day.  i'm very tired, not sleeping and am feeling extra anxious.  the long weeks and months of sleep deprivation build up and my body eventually shuts down - i have an occasional weekend where i'm just no good.  i had that weekend this weekend and now it's monday night and i'm still just as tired.  i got home from work on friday around 6:30 and didn't leave the house (except to walk the dog) until this morning at a few minutes after 10.  not much sleep but not much else either. 

 

when this kind of tired hits i am reminded of how i felt for the 6 months to a year after the flood.  the sheer pain of exhaustion is a trigger like no other:  sirens, flashing lights, rushing water just to name a few.

 

i wish i had a week on a beach somewhere or, better yet, a week in a medically-induced coma.

 

grace and peace      

when it rains it SUCKS!

here's how many times i DIDN'T think of the flood today:

 

1.  i DIDN'T think of the flood when i got to work this morning and there was half of a wet ceiling tile on the floor and dozens of books ruined.

 

2.  i DIDN'T think of the flood when i had my first asthma attack of the day after trying to ascertain which books needed to be removed from the shelves.

 

3.  i DIDN'T think of the flood as i took pictures for the inevitable insurance claim.

 

4.  i DIDN'T think of the flood as clouds moved in and the sky grew heavy.

 

5.  i DIDN'T think of the flood as the rain fell.

 

6.  i DIDN'T think of the flood as a generous employee of a neighboring business helped me pull dry books off the shelves into boxes and garbage bags.

 

7.  i DIDN'T think of the flood as the water pooled at my feet.

 

8.  i DIDN'T think of the flood as i talked on the phone to the owner of the bookstore.

 

9.  i DIDN'T think of the flood as ceiling tiles fell around me.

 

i DID think of the flood as i contemplated someone (anyone but me) pulling all the wet books off the shelves and dragging them to the dumpster. 

 

i have thought of nothing else.

 

i filed the insurance claim and arranged a crew to come start the clean-up TOMORROW when i'm not there.  

 

i cannot let the bookstore, my "safe place," become bogged down in memories of wet, smelly, belongings that are precious and ruined.

 

here's hoping i'm able to actually do that.

 

grace and peace

 

 

 

 

 

be kind: please rewind

for those of us who grew up in the 80s you know what this title means.  for the youngsters: this phrase was found on VHS tapes (for our top-loading $600 VCRs) as a reminder to rewind the movie we had driven to the video store to rent, paid for, driven home and watched - assuming it was a good copy - and then were fined for if we returned it the next day without having rewound it.

 

tonight as i was watching "skyfall," the latest james bond film, i was thinking about this phrase.  i had to hurry and watch so i could get it back to the mcdonald's redbox before 9:00 and was anxious about it.  i didn't want to go out.  i was wishing i hadn't gone out yesterday to get it.  i was thinking that pre-flood i would never have missed a james bond movie in the theater.  now i can't go to movies and i hardly ever think to rent them. 

 

i was thinking that i wanted to REWIND to yesterday and stay home therefore not having the pressure of today.  the "have to go out" stress i now live with.  (truth the told, that's always been stress for me it's just much worse now.)  then i thought if i could REWIND to the time in which the movie was in theaters then i could have retroactively avoided any stress today.  however, if i could REWIND that far, how about just REWINDING to my pre-flood life.  

 

the trouble with that, and i know i repeat myself, is that i have no memory of that time or me in that time.  i feel so different than that person - the pre-flood amy.

 

i know we don't get do-overs and i know that we have to live and play with the cards we are dealt.  i'm just not sure how to do that and ever find this elusive "new normal" i keep hearing about.

 

grace and peace (and don't forget to REWIND!)  

halftime

today is july 1.  half the year is gone.  i wish i could say that i am 6 months closer to well or that this first half of the year has been better than the last but none of that is true.  yes, i love my job but i am still anxious all the time.  i'm still afraid all the time.  i still feel like someone else all the time.  i don't even know what being amy would feel like anymore.

 

it's exhausting to always have to try so hard just to function.  it's amazing to me the things i neglect that i NEVER would have pre-flood.  i just don't always care about sheets on the bed or clean clothes or food to eat.

 

all i want to do is read books and play the guitar (learn to play the guitar, that is.)

 

grace and peace