Tag: exhausted

Old crap

(Forgive the language, please a it just seemed quite appropriately used here.)

There’s a lot of junk that comes with getting old. I don’t merely mean old-er. I mean old. There are lots of little hassles and troubles involved with getting older, with aging as a whole. But getting old has a uniquely stressful aspect: As the body and mind age, they often tend to revert towards babyhood, and adults are not prepared to take care of a 90-year-old toddler who not only can make others believe he is competent and allowed to be out alone, but can get out alone the moment a back is turned or a corner is rounded.

At some point, when ZK was still on my childhood, I was talking with my dad about the idea of grown kids wiping their parents’ butts as the parents grew too old to do it themselves. I asked him if he expected us to wipe his butt one day. He, quite seriously, said he absolutely did not expect it. I was surprised. He said he expected us to hire someone else to do it. I was even more shocked. You wouldn’t want your own family to care for you? And his answer was a firm, confident, and clear, ‘No.’

I didn’t understand it back then, not really. He had said something about hatred or resentment, but it didn’t make sense to me. After seeing the struggle with someone in my own family lately, and now having to deal with it firsthand myself, I understand what my dad had meant. He didn’t want us to resent him int he final years of his life. He wanted us to be able to love him and be happy with him in those years. Yes, it is very loving to care physically for someone, but it isn’t always happy or easy doing that. There can be a massive buildup of very negative memories in that relationship right at the very end of the old person’s life, leaving the younger person grateful of the death and, necessarily, then feeling horrible for being relieved and glad for it.

It is hard dealing with an old, sick person. Getting almost no sleep in order to help with constant bathroom wake-ups throughout the night, cleaning up bodily filth that ended up all over clothes and the floor and almost none in the toilet, forcing down medicines or vitamins or healthy foods or water just to help heal an illness or relieve the pains, changing a diaper on a fully grown person who resists it, despite having just walked around half-naked in public and not knowing it… that and so much more is very hard to handle. What’s harder is handling it all and not, in some way, resenting the person for whom one is doing it all. It’s so hard not to take it personally, especially when that person yells at you for who knows what…

So, I get it. I wouldn’t want my kids to have their final memories of and with me be ones of near-constant frustration and anger and heartbreak. Having and unrelated person come in to take care of the old person goes much further than one might think, for all members of the family. I never would have thought that before doing it myself, seeing it happen myself, twice now. And I am all the more grateful for the people in this world who do choose to take up that role in society. Those caretakers make more than a little difference. They don’t just do the grunt work or the dirty work of the situation. They can truly heal the situation. They completely transform what likely would have happened without them, and all the relationships involved for the better.

Thank you, all you who take care of the old people for their families. You help more than you could know.

Thank you, God, for these people.

Post-a-day 2023

Service

Sometimes, we get the honor of biting the bullet and being of service, especially in situations where we know we really don’t want to do it.

Like really don’t want to do it…

But are those not the times that God is, basically, giving us the stink eye, waiting for us to gtf over it, give up being comfortable or within our comfort zone, and do the right thing? It often feels that way, doesn’t it?? That feeling of super judgement – lovingly done, of course – until we give up and just do it, right?? Haha

Post-a-day 2023

Pulled

God is calling me, encouraging me to take a stand, yet something, too – the devil, perhaps? – is pulling me to feel guilty at this desire to stand for myself, to stand my ground, to stick with what feels right, though it may seem selfish at a glance.

I cannot explain it any other way right now, but it feels like God is calling me to be here right now.

Ironically, I was just sharing Sunday how I’ve determined that I need to trust wholly whatever call I feel from God right now, as that will lead me to where I need to be. And now, mere days later, I am having to do just that in a very difficult way, and I almost didn’t stand up for it.

Post-a-day 2023

Saturday in the park

I planned a surprise boys weekend for my man. My two brothers (one who lives in Wisconsin) showed up Friday evening, right when my man finished work for the day, for an evening hanging out with steaks and green beans, cigars and drinks, and general merriment (without me), as the start to their two-night sleepover party. I had gone out with my mom and stepdad for the evening, only to return just before midnight to the boys out back, sipping bourbons and smoking cigars, while music blasted inside the house, so they had a gentle soundtrack seeping to them and the dog on the back patio. They hung out until very late, before finally being almost forced to go to bed, just so they could get up and be alive for the full schedule today. They seemed to be having a great time already.

Today, I made them double-chocolate pancakes with bacon and eggs for breakfast, and then shoved them out the door at half-past ten. They were scheduled to meet at a gun range with some family friends – my friend’s husband and dad – and our stepdad for some shooting time. They had a whole line of guns ready for them to swap around and shoot together, and I was gently envious of their time – I most certainly wanted to go myself, but I had promised a boys weekend for my man, specifically without me (and, no, he didn’t know that, since he didn’t even know about the weekend at all, but it was the whole reason I’d wanted to plan something in the first place, so I was sticking to it). However, I digress… Anyway, instead of the anticipated hour shooting and half hour to fiddle around there, they ended up shooting for about an hour and a half – it wasn’t busy, so no one kicked them out of the lanes – and then hanging out in the private lounge for another long while, just chatting. I’d anticipated an hour and a half at the range, yet they spent over three hours there. And, according to my stepdad, “It was Awesome,” and they all had a great time. 😛

(Bonus there is that the boys didn’t have to pay anything, because the other three are members of that gun club, and each gets a free guest and free protective gear for all parties to use, plus I made sure guns were brought by all who had them, so there were enough to go around without any renting. Not bad for something my brother had originally said was an expensive thing to put on the schedule. [It’s okay, I’m amazing, and it becomes clear to all, eventually. 😛 ] Granted, I did have to pack the bag for my man as they were rushing out the door this morning, as he’d not realized that he might want to bring guns to a gun range. I blame that on his still half-asleep state. They were up until three last night…)

Afterward they finally left the range, which was after two PM, they went to lunch at the one place I had recommended in the area, and then went to play with the mini-drone my brother had brought, while they waited for their 5pm tee-time (that’s golf). Apparently that was quite cool and silly and fun.

Then, they had their round of golf. If it had been busy, they wouldn’t have been likely to have finished the full 18 holes. However, since there were some openings/cancellations in tee-times, they were able to start on time but on the back half of the course, and actually play all 18 holes. The last one, they said, was rather tough in terms of visibility – sun was going down, you see – but was still doable. The sun had been really hot, but the later tee-time helped relieve a good amount of the painfully hot sunshine, and just make it quite hot.

When they were finally leaving the course at 8:40pm, my one brother requested a shower before dinner. So, instead of heading to the restaurant to eat, they just picked up the food and brought it home… which meant that I got to have a meal from the awesome Tex-Mex place, too(!). (Yippee! And thank you!) And they had the soft-serve ice cream cones while they waited for the food at the restaurant, as an appetizer, of course. 😛

I kid you not. Though I had purposely purchased ice cream stuff for them – it had been specifically requested – when they got home, they devoured their dinners, absolutely stuffing themselves from the intense hunger they were feeling after the hours of drone time and golf in the hot air and sunshine. Only one Snickers ice cream bar was eaten, and one fruit-based popsicle. So much for all the ice cream. 😛 Guess we’ll be eating that ourselves over the coming weeks. Haha

Anyway, after they’d eaten and showered (or showered and eaten, as was the case for my man and the one brother), we got on a stint of watching clips of old roller coasters from our beloved Astroworld, while my man passed out in a rocking chair. There was a touch of piano playing after the videos, and then they were beyond ready for bed, absolutely wiped.

After everything this weekend, they were tired little boys, and they had earned it, to be sure. I think they all genuinely had a good time, and I’m so glad it all worked out.

Tomorrow morning, the one brother leaves here at 8:30 to catch a flight back up North, and the other heads home to his wife whenever he wakes up. We have a lunch and then an afternoon thing for fathers’ day for each of our dads. Hopefully, we can be up for morning Mass. if not, we’ll have the evening Mass. And then, we likely will pass tf out, and early, tomorrow evening. This weekend had been good, but a lot, especially for the boys.

Thank you, God, for making this all work out so well this weekend. You answered my prayers for a positive boys weekend, and I am grateful, as you know. I am relieved it all went so well, and so pray that my man truly enjoyed it all, as that was the main goal. Please, grant us all safe travels tomorrow especially, and always. Thank you for this life and all this love. Thank you, especially for the love we all have been able to experience this weekend, and from many directions. In your name, I pray. Amen.

Post-a-day 2023

Okay, then, body

Menstruation stuff in this one – you have been alerted! ;P

………

So, I went to a meeting for folks who’s re wanting to get into the tech world this afternoon. I spent, perhaps, a grand total of five minuets in the two-hour session.

You see, I was having unusual abdominal-ish pain this afternoon from menstruation. Not that the pain is unusual as a concept for women menstruating, but that it is very uncommon for me. Discomfort? Sure. But pain? Almost never. So, for lack of a better way of describing it, it felt like I was about to have intense diarrhea, but in a slightly different area from my stomach and bowels. Aka it sucked big time.

However, when I do have this discomfort and occasional pain, pressing directly on the edges of my pelvic bone usually helps to relieve the discomfort and the pain. This applied today, too. I went to the bathroom as soon as I arrived, confirming that it was not diarrhea, and was merely my body being angry that it isn’t pregnant yet. Then, I went into the meeting. It had been listed and described as a happy hour, but it was a meeting. I sat in the seat offered to me, as only one other across the room was truly available, without a bunch of stuff sitting on the table in front of it.

Immediately, I regretted the spot. Clearly, the woman next to me was going to continue sitting on a blocking way, her back fully to me and leaning forward to the table, so I couldn’t quite be included in any discussion or see the person presenting directly. And it was also out of ignorance, not meanness, which somehow bothered me more. In addition to this, I identified a sweet, strong, fake, and sickly scent that was clearly someone’s perfume. It seemed to be this woman next to me. On the other side of me were open bags of chips, thus leaving my nostrils filling with horrible perfume and corn chips.

And did I mention that it felt warm?

I pulled out my fan almost immediately and started fanning myself carefully under the table, so as not to be rude. The presenter noticed and commented not to worry, that she had already reported about the air and it was being fixed, whatever that was supposed to mean. I recalled that it had been warmer when I’d walked into this section of the building, a shared office space area, and even warmer when I walked into this particular meeting room within that space.

Perhaps a total of three minutes pass, and my guts are going wild – I can barely stand to sit. I go ahead and stand to the side when there is a pause, and squat down and move around, seeing what my body may need. Suddenly, I am clear that everything within me wants to curl up on the floor… and possibly throw up. The latter is new, but growing with increasing intensity.

I quickly exit the meeting room. I then rush back in and grab a tampon, then re-exit the meeting room. My initial thought is to go to a bathroom.

But then I notice other things happening… I am about to pass out, I realize.

Ice pressed to the back of the neck is the number one helper when one is about to pass out. It then gives time to figure out whatever else the body may need – be it oxygen or water or sugar – but without having to pass out. I stumble across the office space and find a mini fridge. It only is a fridge; no freezer up top. It is filled with forgotten lunch bags from the grocery store and half-drunk water bottles. I grab a water bottle and put it to my neck, and promptly stumble to the floor.

The floor is smooth concrete. Any skin touching it feels the coolness as a balm. But it is still warm in the office – this won’t be enough.

As soon as I realized I was close to passing out, I called my mom and told her the scenario. I needed someone to know what was happening to me, as no one was about in the office space. I also wanted someone who could potentially help me, if I started having trouble thinking. So, I’m talking to her as I lie on the ground in this office. A woman appears and tells me I can’t lie there on the floor, but I can lie on the bench, and am I sure I don’t want her to call an ambulance?

I am sure, I tell her. I ask multiple times for ice, and she tells me they have none. Nowhere in the building? ‘We don’t have any.’ I still think she must be wrong, as it is a huge building with many setups within it. She must only be part of this particular office space. She does not seem entirely resourceful. I tell her I’m about to pass out and just need ice, that’s all. But she cannot seem to figure out what to do about that, and asks me again to move to the sofa bench.

My mom encourages me to make the move, so the woman doesn’t call an ambulance. With great effort I peel myself upward and fall forward to the bench, half-crawling and half-rolling up onto it. I’ve made it.

The woman disappears, as I tell her that cold water on paper towels would be helpful. Another women who speaks little English appears and hands me a full bottle of water that is very cold. Her shirt matches the orange polo the other woman was wearing. “Here. Cold.” And then she disappears again.

When I first try to grab the bottle, I can’t. My hand won’t work quite right. My muscles started tingling when I was on the floor, and they haven’t stopped. I am shaking in places now. This reminds me both of passing out and of the panic attack I had that one day at home alone.

Breathe. Slowly, fully… breathe.

I do.

I finally grab the bottle.

I roll to my back and hold the cold water bottle behind my head, resting my neck and head on it. It helps.

But I also need to drink some of this water, I realize clearly. I pull it out and replace it with a half-drunk bottle under my neck. Lying on it helps much more than just holding it to my neck while on my side. I drink some water. It does good. I screw the cap back on and out it back to my neck. It is much more effective than the other bottles.

I go to unscrew the cap to take another sip, but I haven’t sat up yet to take the sip, and end up slipping as I push myself up, and dropping the water. The cap is already off, so water goes all over the bench sofa. It is plastic on the outside, so it will be fine. But I have lost half my truly cold and drinkable water. It freaks the original lady out. She wants to call an ambulance. I decline firmly but kindly as I roll up and stand with my forearms on the tabletop next to the bench-seat. I apologize about the water, and then I drink some more of the cold water. It helps.

The woman bring me a USB-charged handheld fan. I point it at the back of my neck. It really helps.

I tell my mom I need to put down the phone. Please, let my man know the situation and see if he can come get me or not, then call me back in ten minutes. I tell her I’m going to the bathroom, then we hang up.

I take the fan with me and go back out into the hall to find a bathroom. I don’t find one, so go back downstairs to the one I’d used earlier. It’s just one flight and it’s right by the stairs. And I genuinely feel like I can handle the stairs, though I am still a mess.

In less than a minute, I am in the bathroom and stumbling to a stall. I use the toilet rather quickly, though express my pain and frustration while sitting there a moment. After I wash my hands, I sit in the floor and put my head against the wall. The wall is cold, and so is the floor. For that matter, it feels like all the cold air is blowing into this tiny two-stall bathroom, and not the rest of the building. It is very cold in here.

And it does me such good.

Within minutes, I can see fully clearly, all of my muscles feel normal, and everything has settled within me. Even the pain down low has lessened significantly, so it is still there. My need to vomit is nonexistent, and my breathing is, somehow, easy.

So, it’s all about the temperature, then… How odd.

If that is the case, though, then I need to go ahead and leave. It is far too warm in that part of the building and in that meeting room. Not to mention the smells in there that likely didn’t help. I want to be home. If this happens again, I don’t want to be here and having to deal with it again. I want to be home.

I tell my mom, and then I go upstairs to fetch my things and return the fan. I noticed instantly when I walk into the warmer part of the building how I start feeling worse. I return the fan and explain the Tyanne of ministration for the whole affair to the woman. Finally, she understands why I didn’t want her to call an ambulance. It was something that was going to pass, and that just had to be endured for the time being. She explains that she had had a stroke at one point, thus her terror for me earlier. But she gets it now, and is relieved. I tell her that I am not staying and then I’m going to go eat the snacks in my car, and go home; that I’m going to call a family member when I get in the car. She accepts and wishes me well.

I go back into the meeting to get my bag and sweater. I excuse myself and say that I need to leave. The leader comes to give me an information packet and bag, and asks if everything is OK. I mention that I am just having some real ministration trouble, and that I just need to go home. The room is all women, and they all get it immediately. They look at me, various types of knowing and commiseration in their eyes, and several of them wish me well and wish me feel better soon. None of them show signs of any negativity towards me or towards what I have said. I have to write down my name and email for the leader before I leave, though. In just these two minutes, I noticed my symptoms all getting worse. It is time to leave.

And I do.

I step into the bathroom for just a moment before leaving the building, to get one last hit of the really cold air all over my body. When I walk outside, the heat hit me in a way it didn’t earlier. My body does not want heat right now. Though it regularly feels better from any ailment just by sitting in the sun for a few minutes, that is not the case today.

Once in my car, I blast the a/c like I never do, and aim to get out all the heat as fast as possible. I can feel the sickness rising within me. I drink some of the last sips of the cold water, and it helps while I wait for the car to cool.

I remember that I had planned to stop at In-N-Out on my way home, so I could bring home burgers for my man and me. We love In-N-Out, but we live nowhere near one. I check in with my mom to tell her that I am leaving, and I ask her opinion. She says definitely to get the burgers. I can eat mine there or at home – whichever one feels best at the time. Nonetheless, eat the snacks I have in the car right now. We hang up, and I eat the snacks. I get our protein style burgers to go, and I fill my water bottle with ice to chill the warm water within it, and I make the 40-minute trek home with unexpected ease. Th cold water to sip makes all the difference.

We devour our burgers as soon as I get home. I drink ice cold water for a while, and then pass out – the good and intentional kind – on the sofa, exhausted. I sleep hard for just under an hour, and notice that the pain is gone and the discomfort is barely noticeable now. I was sweating all over at the office building, but my body temperature seems fully normal now. When I step outside, nothing happens right away, though the air is still plenty warm and humid. I’m able to stay out a few minutes before noticing even discomfort beginning. I am filled with relief.

Apparently, this episode I had today was just like what my mother experienced somewhat regularly in her younger years. She has said before that things sorted out after her first pregnancy, but that it had sucked until then. So, I imagine this was sort of that. She said she usually would curl up on the bathroom floor at home for twenty minutes until it passed, and then resume life, much like I had to do today.

I have had similar episodes myself, but never to this point of nearly passing out like today, or the intense draw to throw up. I just want to curl up on the floor, and I press my pubic bone and breathe deeply and slowly for maybe twenty minutes, and then it wanes and I can resume normal function.

Goodness… that’s nuts. And it’s even more nuts to think how many women have it worse off and regularly so. And it’s even more nuts to think that so much of the trouble likely ties into hormonal imbalances within our systems. How can we heal our bodies as a people?

Anyway, glad that all has passed. Goodness…

God, thank you for getting me through all of this today, and thank you for making the pain stop. Thank you for all the love and support I received, especially from my mom. Amen.

Post-a-day 2023

Baby steps

As I’ve started to sit in the space of that I was actually very strongly and negatively affected by the stuff with the gym folks in August, things are starting to shift slowly within me.

We went on a long walk yesterday. Today, while relaxing with a film after dinner, I had a desire to do some arm work. So, I got the dumbbell and did sets of curls and strict presses for a bit while watching the movie.

These might and do seem small on their own. However, I can feel how massive they are by the weight they are both lifting from me. This is the direction I want to go. I so incredibly missed doing intense workouts, I can hardly stand it… lately, it has been hard to stand myself, really. I want these workouts and they make all the difference for me and my mental and physical and spiritual health. I want them in my life still.

And I know I have a lot to release in order to get back into them fully. Nonetheless, I will persist in my efforts to increase my exercise activity levels, as well as to release and release and release, so that I can complete. I have begun to reach a new stage of this strain. Instead of feeling pathetic as a victim, or apathetic or wanting to avoid every or merely depressed, I am entering the rage stage. I just want to scream and yell at them and be mad at how crappily they each did their jobs – I just want the whole world to know that these people failed miserably and neither noticed nor cared how any of it affected anyone else, especially me. The phase doesn’t feel long. I think I’ll just need to say it aloud and be angry for a few days, and then I’ll be able to let it go and move onward. Rage never lasts long for me. And it is always a sign of progress, as it is never my first phase in a situation. So, in this case, rage is good. Rage is very good. Haha 😛

Dear God, thank you for helping me to know myself and for helping me to experience this outrage and anger. Thank you for showing me the love and the responsibility that I do deserve and that does work in the world, such that I could be enraged at how these particular people treated me. Thank you for this opportunity to step away from a community that was no longer lifting me up and improving me. And thank you for whatever wonders are to come as I let this all go for good. Thank you for this life. Thank you. I love you. I love me, too. Thank you. Amen.

Post-a-day 2023

A question:

When did I stop mattering? Or, rather, when did I stop being good enough? Worth it?

It was, almost, easy for quite a while for me to take care of myself. For me to go to bed early to get enough sleep, to wake up early with my natural body rhythm, to exercise greatly, to feed myself very nutritious foods almost always… to take true care of myself. It took little mental effort for so long…

Then something changed.

I don’t know what specifics it was or when, but something big changed inside. Something snapped for me. I have a feeling it was in August when the stuff went down with the gym… actually, yes, that was exactly it. (Haha. Duh. Already blocking it out, I guess! Better work on completing it instead, or I’ll be stuck in this cycle and state for even longer.) Yeah, that gym stuff really shat on me, for lack of better phrasing.

It’s interesting to see how subtle crap like that can have someone go from physically fit and strong, emotionally powerful, empowered, eager for life, and inspiring to a mere shadow of herself, both in terms of presence and in terms of the physical body. As I said to my mom the other day, referencing my being, my energetic space, “I keep getting smaller.” But the same could just as truly be said about my physical space. I’m down likely no body fat, but purely muscle loss of about ten pounds. I was already at nearly-prime physical fitness when I weighed 124lbs last year. The fact that I weigh 114 right now is starting to be a bit scary. Ten pounds is a massive change when one is only 124lbs to begin.

To add some extra context, when I was athletic in college, I weighed about 125-126. Later, when I was not doing great with my physical health and fitness, and I had gotten very sedentary (but never fat), I weighed 130lbs. Weight fluctuated between 128 and 130 on any given day for a few years. After a year at the gym, my muscle mass was way up and my fat was way down – yes, I did body scans for relative comparison over time – and my weight had only gone down about five pounds. So, in my prime physical fitness, I weighed about 124-125. That’s only a 5-6-pound difference from my heaviest. I’ve been in the same five-pound range my whole adult life. Now, in a matter of months, I am suddenly down ten pounds.

Not a great feeling in the mind.

I also have felt that I am, through allowing this struggle, torturing myself. And it hurts all the more that I can’t seem to figure out how to stop it, how to heal it for good. All efforts so far have been necessary, fear-based, and only meant to be temporary. I know they won’t solve anything, but I also know every little bit helps right now.

I think I might just want to sit with this tonight, sit with this sadness and the open-ended space for what I want to create for what’s next. Something is always next, and we always have a say in it. So, I will sit with this all tonight and see where it leads me for tomorrow’s considerations and inspirations.

Thank you, God, for this able-bodied brain and true logic. Help me to use them well, especially concerning my health and well-being. Help me to let go of the anger and the hurt and the need to fight back and attack and scream and yell at them for being so horrid to me. Help me to say to you what I seem to need to say and where I feel I need to be heard. Hear me, please, and help me to release and complete all of this pain and frustration I’ve been carrying around and by which I have somewhat literally been starving. And, if it be your will, please, teach those people not to be jerks – help them to see the light of you, so I don’t have to feel like punching them in the face anymore. That would be great, too. Thank you for a sense of humor. I appreciate when you make me laugh at absurdities. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. In your name, I pray. Amen.

P.S. If you want to pray for my healing and my completion with all those events last year, I would appreciate it and I welcome the loving prayers. 😉 Thank you, too.

Post-a-day 2023

Last day of this yet?

Well, today showed no signs of diarrhea.

It showed no signs of a BM at all, unfortunately.

I ate quite normally today. Eggs and bacon to start, and a bit of beef jerky and dried fruits, yogurt, some other stuff, and pho. I keep wondering how I am possibly storing all this stuff inside me. It is uncomfortable, but only like a single tough meal kind of uncomfortable, not like the previous few days uncomfortable. Oh, but goodness… I need to release my bowels… my brain can barely handle this right now, and staying away from thoughts of germs and problems resulting from constipation…

Dear God, please, heal my body. Help me to go poo on the toilet in the morning, and to release all this buildup inside of me. Heal my body and mind, please. In your name, I pray. Amen.

Post-a-day 2023

Baby steps… forward?

Well, I ate some solid food today… but not a ton. And, unfortunately, I was very much craving steak for dinner time…, so I had some. My body was very clear with me as to when it was time to stop, a point much sooner in the meal than is usual when it comes to home-grilled steaks.

However, my belly had been filled with gas for hours beforehand, giving me miserable pains that occasionally incapacitated me or made me yell out involuntarily, but that I could not seem to relieve. Hours and hours later – meaning around midnight, enough gas had released that I no longer was carefully clutching myself and avoiding moving too much or in the wrong way.

At last, I think I can possibly go to sleep in my bed and actually sleep. I hope, anyway… and, hopefully, a solid – literally – BM will release after I awaken in the morning.

Fingers crossed!

God, heal us all, please, and help us to rejuvenate fully always with sleep. In your name, I pray. Amen.

Post-a-day 2023

Belly problems

Still on the indigestion train here. Or, perhaps, just again, one day later. Though, if I didn’t have a normal BM, I imagine I never actually got off that train in the first place.

So, yeah…

Struggled to sleep starting around 1:30 in the morning. Got up to my alarm and rushed to the bathroom this morning. Repeated twice more before leaving. Repeated twice at the office where I was presenting… and something similar many times later on at home. I’ve basically been unable to get almost anything done today, thanks to my belly hurting off and on and needing to go to the bathroom so intensely at varied intervals (sometimes twice again before I even leave the bathroom)…

God, heal me now, please. Let me sleep well tonight and awaken healed. Please. In your name, I pray. Amen.

Post-a-day 2023