Been A While

I have so MANY partially written things from the last month or two. It's not funny.

Shilo and myself finally hit a wall in late June-early July and it wasn't pretty. I knew about the activity he was engaging in, and I was okay with it at first, but as it progressed, it became a problem in our marriage. I was more and more unhappy, and I felt like he was cheating on me. I know that some people wouldn't understand cheating in polyamory, but it exists.

WHAT IS CHEATING IN POLYAMORY?

Everyone runs their polyamory differently, and for us, it includes lying about a relationship, hiding information from each other, or doing something we agreed not to do. EXAMPLE: I see Master "B" and we fuck like bunnies.and I say nothing about it to Shilo. Engaging in intercourse with him is permitted, we agreed it was okay, but I am required to inform Shilo about it as soon as it is possible. Hiding that information is cheating OR I meet someone, and there's instant attraction so We go someplace and have sex.  I'm not supposed to have sex with anyone without them first meeting Stitch and Shilo and getting their approval to date. Then I need their permission to have sex. Or, in Shilo's case, he has to talk to me about his feelings regarding a woman, and she has to meet me and follow our other rules.  Consider this the TL;DR version.

 Anyway, Shilo did several things that counts as cheating, and while he confessed to some things, he hid others, and I discovered them on my own. I was furious, but I was really more disappointed than anything. I actually considered leaving, but I realized that wasn't the answer. I'm still here. He's still here, and we're working on things. I can now look at his messages, emails, and phone whenever I want. I don't shove it in his face, and he is quick to tell anyone who messages him that I am reading along. And no, I'm not constantly looking, but I DO look, and I'm shocked at the amount of women who want him to sneak and hide things from me.

Shilo's cheating was a shock to my system and a wake-up call as far as our relationship goes. We're healing, but it's slow, and there are occasional arguments and my emotions can be all over the place.  I went out with the woman who was my Maid of Honor when I married Shilo, and we talked about it. I don't have many female friends, and of the few I do have, not all of them know about my polyamory. This is an embarrassment to me, so the less my people know about it, the better.

Keep in mind that while I'm retired, I still have responsibilities and things I do, including taking care of my older sister. She has advancing dementia and also had lung cancer surgery in February 2020. Since COVID hit, I've been buying her groceries and checking in on her every other day or so. It works for us, and I don't mind helping her out. After all, she is family, and being her caregiver is something that I take seriously.

So, the last week of July, it was HOT and while I kept in contact with her, I last visited her on Sunday (7-25) and called her on Monday and Tuesday, because I was feeling sick, and when I feel that way, I avoid face to face visits.  When Thursday (7-29) came along, I had an uneasy feeling, so I decided to make an unannounced visit to check on her.  

When I got to her apartment at 2:30PM, I found her passed out on the floor with her right leg bruised from the knee up. She had obviously urinated on herself as well, but while it wasn't completely unexpected (older women who live alone will frequently fall) it was still a shock to the system. It took me forever to dial 911 because I kept hitting the wrong buttons. The paramedics took her to the one ER that I feel is the worst in the area (Hospital and care is excellent, ER sucks because of the area) and it has a tiny waiting room. My niece arrived over an hour later because she lives near West LA, and my sister was just talking nonsense. She fractured her hip in several places, but there was no head injury.

The nurse who was assigned to her sent us home about 11, because they hadn't gotten the transfer papers from the hospital where my sister is insured. Instead, I received a call from the hospital at 6:30AM Friday (7-39) saying that she had been transferred to a hospital 40 miles away! I packed my clothes and stayed with my niece until Monday (8-2)  My sister was placed in a local SNF (Skilled Nursing Facility) late Wednesday (8-4) night, and they have restricted visitation (30 minutes max) due to COVID, and it's by appointment only.  I'm taking a break until Wednesday (8-11) because I am physically and mentally exhausted.

Anyway, That's what is going on, and that's where I've been.

 

2020 Year In Review: A Personal Outlook

Our Internet, cable, and Wi-Fi went out on New Year’s Day, and was out until the evening of the 4^th so I say better late than never.(Originally posted ELSEWHERE)

2020 will no doubt go into the record books as being a horrible year, but I'm going to inject my reality into it. Bear in mind that this is a NON-POLITICAL PERSONAL journal entry:

My long-term Partner-In-Crime, Stitch, was laid off in early February. Then, later that month my older sister with dementia had lung cancer surgery. It enabled my niece (her only child) and I to get closer after many years of estrangement.

In March, as the COVID-19 pandemic started affecting California, and quarantine/lockdowns became a reality, I took over grocery shopping for my older sister due to her health status. Waiting in line to get into a grocery store for 45 minutes to an hour was a reality, and her favorite store was frequently out of her favorite foods, so I had to get creative to find what she needed and wanted. It turns out that the grocery store I use most had nearly everything she needed and at lower prices!

In late April/early May, I had an accident that totaled my car that I inherited when my Mother died 7 years before. It was a very difficult time for me emotionally, but made easier because my older sister (the one who had the cancer surgery in February) had added my name to her car that she no longer drove back in January, so I was able to take it and get it back in working order. The insurance money I received was more than enough to cover all the work needed, including new tires.

By mid-May, Stitch, got a part-time temporary job working for a large retailer known for low prices. In September he received a card that gave his household an employee discount. With everything going on, that discount is very helpful.

June was quiet, and in the middle of July, I had my quarantine birthday (Happy 59^th!) then, near the end of July, my 8 y/o granddaughter infected her entire household with COVID-19 (Her father [child #5] her mother [my DIL] her uncle [child #4 AKA Babyman, who also happens to be disabled and is high-risk] her little brother, age 3, and her baby sister, age 14 months) It was a worrisome time for me, but they all had mild symptoms and recovered without winding up in the hospital.

In September, they bought and moved into their first house. It's still in the same area, but much closer to me. Also in September, I finally had dental insurance and began treatment that I thought would be finished by the end of October. Guess what? I'm STILL undergoing treatment, and currently have a messed up smile (Thank goodness for masks!) and eating has been an adventure for over 3 months.

In October, my Husband and Chosen One, Shilo, received the news we've been waiting to hear. His numbers are undetectable, meaning that his prostate cancer is under control. Yes, he still has to take his chemotherapy, but it's mostly a precaution because he has/had Advanced Metastatic Prostate Cancer. Two years ago, he was told that if he decided to not undergo treatment (chemo and radiation) he would die within 2 years. I'm so grateful that he did the chemo and radiation. Yes, they left him with some nasty side effects, but it's better than being dead.

In November, we celebrated Shilo’s 64^th Birthday by serenading him. With Thanksgiving quickly approaching, finding a normal-sized turkey (12 lbs) was impossible, so I wound up buying a 22 lbs(!) turkey and freezing the leftovers. Good thing I like turkey! I also decided that this was the year I tried making fruitcake.

December was a month of baking and cooking unlike anything I could have imagined! Total "damage" was 11 fruitcakes, homemade candied orange peel, orange-infused sugar, and orange syrup, homemade candied lime peel, lime-infused sugar, and lime syrup. I even made a lime pie for dessert for Christmas along with brownies, and of course, my Mom's Christmas Pork recipe for Christmas breakfast. I did cancel a dentist appointment on the 21st and rescheduled it for the 30th because I wanted to enjoy eating Christmas dinner. Instead of removing my lower 4 teeth front teeth when I saw the dentist he only removed TWO (2!). Again I say "Thank goodness for masks!"

So here it is, the New Year 7 days old, and I'm back to eating soft food, and my speech is mostly unintelligible, but like I jokingly told the dentist "Out with the old (teeth), and in with the new (in a few weeks)"

Saving the best for last, on New Year’s Eve, I was told that effective January 1, 2021, Stitch was hired as a full-time permanent employee. Also a very special acknowledgment to my FIL and MIL who have been VERY supportive of us this past year, and I/We are extremely grateful for all the help they've provided.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

 

Death

In the past week, several people I call friend have died. Friend is not a title I give loosely. You earn that. Yes, there are Facebook friends, Fetlife friends, etc; but I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about more than just that. People I've shared secrets with, laughed with, and cried with. People who made a difference in my life. People who never forgot that they were loved by me.


M died due to a blood clot that traveled to her brain. It was sudden, but in the days preceding her death, we (her friends) knew that she was going to die. Hard? Yes. 

Tommy started out as an online acquaintance about 15 years ago that turned into something more. In April 2010, during a cross country road trip, we finally met up. The sparks were real. I met his daughter then as well. If she hadn't been there, more might have happened, but it wasn't to be. I never considered him a "lost love" because we became facebook friends, and would call on a regular basis until my mom died. Still, Facebook kept us in touch. Even when I found out he was a Trump supporter, I kept in touch. We made plans to see each other "soon" because I just knew I'd return to Texas eventually.

An excerpt of our last online conversation is below:

Mary Price You aren't racist or hate-mongering. You just have a different opinion on things.
 

Obamacare kept my son Jonathan alive when he developed cancer. He would be dead today if it wasn't for the Affordable Care Act. Still, I accept that you have a different opinion.
 

Now stop yelling about your guns blazing and give Merry a hug. You know you want to.
 

I'm sure that everything will work out.

May 11 at 8:01am 

Tommy  (((Hugs))) love ya hun wish you didnt live so far away you love me for who I am and not for what you want me to be.A true heart you have.Im truly happy that hes doing better I remember the hell you had.Im not saying Obama Care is all bad but I shouldnt have to have 4 hundred bucks taken out of my paycheck because I dont have healthcare either.I can always just go to the VA...

May 11 at 12:23pm


Tommy was found dead in his bedroom Sunday morning (5-14) with a broken neck. All I could get out of his daughter was that it was an accident. I'm heartbroken. Tommy was always helping people, and even when his house burned down a few years ago, he helped out others. He was a giving person. I'm proud to have been his friend, and I'm grateful that I gave him "flowers" while he was living. 

I have a favor to ask: Please remember that we only walk on this earth for a limited time. We don't know when our life might end, or the lives of others. Please don't hold back your feelings. Tell people 'Thank you, I love you, I care' if you feel that way. Share those good happy feelings. Don't be full of regret when it's too late.

Merry

Last Straw?

I'm not intentionally airing dirty laundry, which is why most people will remain nameless. 2016 finally did it! Today I received a particularly depressing bit of news and reading it made me feel a combination of sick, depressed, and scared. Honestly, it's not anyone's "fault", although fingers could easily be pointed in every direction.  


The following is a story of good intentions gone bad. In mid-2013, acquaintances (a married couple) of mine had a series of unfortunate events happen to them, and they had to move to a remote location. Unfortunately, they couldn't find a buyer. Right about that time, Shilo and myself were discussing wedding plans, and were looking for a house that would fit Shilo, myself, Stitch, my dog (a lab) and our cats. The house was perfect as far as space was concerned, so I put down a hefty sized (for me) down payment and signed a 3 year lease option, fully expecting that my finances would be perfect and I would be able to make the purchase. I was told to treat the house like it was mine, and I did. I painted, added a security door to the front, and did other things over the first year. I got settled. I was happy. We "inherited" their (the previous owners) two cats. We adopted Donna (our pitbull) from the pound to keep our lab company. Unfortunately, our lab developed a sudden health problem, and had to be euthanized a few months later. Still, things were good.


About the middle of our second year, medical bills began to pile up due to Shilo having digestive issues, and making ends meet became more difficult. He was finally diagnosed with a gluten sensitivity. Shilo's mother died in July 2015, which only added to our stress levels. Last-minute plane tickets to Mississippi cleaned out our savings, and we were living on credit we no longer really had. Jonathan was diagnosed with cancer, I had a mini heart attack, and then Shilo broke his ankle at a dungeon, and all that happened on October 2015! In November, I injured my wrist, but fortunately, it was a sprain. December 2015 consisted of lots of ups and downs emotionally, as I continued to adjust to being the only driver. Jonathan went through several death scares, and I was buckling under the pressure. I'm human, and I realized that I can't do it all. Through all of the insanity, I continued to make sure we paid on the house, because I invested in it.


The endless windstorms in February 2016 caused our picket fence to collapse and it was irreparable. Cleaning up the mess wasn't my idea of fun, but I did it with the assistance of Stitch. In March, Shilo finally got better, and Jonathan got a bone marrow transplant. By late April, Jonathan developed graft vs. host disease and norovirus and I became his primary mode of transportation. Bills continued piling up, and my credit, Stitch's credit, and Shilo's credit was shit. Suffice to say, I could see the future, and it wasn't so bright, and I kept hoping things would improve. Only it got worse.


The end of July, I broke my humerus in two places, and, once again, I was taken by ambulance to the hospital. That injury disabled me. I was (and still am) completely unable to drive, and I required assistance for everything else. A week later, the refrigerator died. We tried to get it fixed, but were told that we should just buy a new one. We decided that renting would be easier. By early September the bone healed, but pain control was difficult, and I was unable to do my PT exercises and couldn't figure out why. 7 weeks later, near the end of October, my Ortho doctor explained that I had a frozen shoulder, which was a complication related to my being diabetic. I was sent to PT three times a week at $60 a visit. Shilo started working OT to pay for it. My prescription (narcotic) medicine for pain wasn't working either, but you all know that story.


In the meantime, at the end of September, we received an email reminding us that our three years were up, and we had to do something about purchasing the house we could no longer buy due to everything. We went through the motions of getting a home loan, and were denied. Lost doesn't begin to describe how we were feeling, and because of my injury and pain not getting better, I left everything up to Shilo.


Normally, leaving things affecting me up to Shilo works well. What I didn't know as that if it affects him as well, he's like a deer in the headlights. Things only got worse. Partly because of that, and also because the washing machine finally died as well. Again, it was suggested by the repair company that we buy a new one. We opted to use the laundromat instead.


We also kept looking for a buyer for the house, which has been a difficult prospect, although there might be a light at the end of the tunnel. Then, two weeks ago, our water heater wasn't working, so we bought a new one, expecting that we would be reimbursed, but it still wasn't working, so the gas company shut off our gas on Christmas eve. It turned out there was a gas leak UNDER the house, so we got that fixed as well, still expecting to be reimbursed. I thought Shilo was keeping everyone informed as it happened, but now it seems that the owners are not only getting a divorce (which makes me sad) but the male of the couple feels that Shilo was slow about informing him on what was going on.


I'm honestly not sure how to feel at this point, other than what I described at the beginning of this. While I understand that that that the male is no doubt going through a difficult time, it feels like he is blaming us for everything that happened, and he expects us to not only pay for the repairs (totaling nearly 2 months rent!) but also our rent. Or, at least that's what I gathered from his last email.


I'm trying not to panic, and there's so much more details I could get into, but all I see is huge brick wall on front of me. I'm hoping things improve.

I Can't Feel My Face! (12-28-16)

Warning:

If you are offended by Religion (in general) what happens to a body when someone dies, terrorists (in general). Love or loss of body function, please leave now. I got nothing for you.


It was bound to happen eventually. Using edibles for pain requires trial and error. My morning routine of starting with breakfast and a sour strawberry straw was only working until about 3PM, and then I would eat a cola bottle to get me through the rest of the day, and it wasn't quite working. I was debating this yesterday when I woke up. I figured I'd see how I did with two sour strawberry straws (about 36mg) and go from there.


I got my edible bag (a purse that has my edibles in it) and noticed a caramel fudge that was 35 mg. I decided to eat it. I mean, what harm could there be? I put the sour strawberry straws away, and ate the caramel fudge instead. It tasted good. I played games on my phone waiting for it to work.


About an hour later, it happened. My vision got blurry, my body got warm, and my face was numb. The warmth kept washing over me, and my heartbeat skyrocketed. I thought I was going to die. I know that I'd have to consume more than I could possibly eat to actually overdose, and even then, it wouldn't kill me. I even knew it at that point, but my heart was pounding so hard, I was afraid.


I remember saying that I didn't want to die yet because I want to see my (overdue) grandson first. I put on my CPAP to help me breathe, and then I asked Shilo what would happen if I stopped breathing. Then I said "Nevermind, my lungs will just fill with air and then explode in my chest cavity." Then I went on about how when I died my mouth would pop open, so the air would rush out through it, and how it was a good thing I had on a diaper because I didn't want to piss and shit on the recliner and ruin it.


Then the inquisition started. The best way to explain it was that questions formed in my head about my life, and I had to answer out loud. I said That I believe in God, and I explained my belief regarding The Father, Son and Holy Ghost. I explained that I also believe that Satan is as real as God is, and that I believe in Heaven and hell. I asked about purgatory, and I said that I feel earth is purgatory, but I wasn't sure. I didn't get an answer.


I was asked about love. Could I feel enough love for everyone? Could I really forgive everyone, and find love in my heart for them? I found the forgiveness for everyone, including myself. Then I told them that since my Mom could do it, I could too. I even went on to say that I knew (person) asked forgiveness for the mean way she acted towards me, so I could forgive her and love her as well. I said that everyone who died before me had gone through this, and I knew it was the only right thing to do. I let go of my anger.


I saw where I held certain people to a standard that I have only recently reached myself. How dare I be angry at Jonathan's (now-ex) girlfriend for what she did, when I've done things I'm not proud of either? I remembered all the things I did and I explained why I did them, and how I could have handled it better.


I discussed that I realized how fortunate I was to be where I am. Soldiers aren't gunning down people in the street, and we aren't being bombed. Girls aren't being forced to marry and have kids before they're 12.


I asked Shilo what time it was, and was surprised it had only been 10 minutes. It felt like HOURS. I went back to the inquisition. I said "God knows I'm not perfect." and then I laughed, because for all I knew, it was God asking the questions.


I talked about my mental health, and how I hated being treated like I was fragile just because of the depression, PTSD et.al. I hate that there is a stigma. Why not just accept the mental illness? See the whole person. Don't be afraid. 


I talked about my fears. I realized I was less afraid by telling my fears. It got to the point I laughed after saying the words "I'm afraid." The truth is that because I believe on God, God watches over me, so I don't have to be afraid.


I talked about prayer and I explained that I felt it must be like being an "A list" celebrity. Everyone wants a piece of you. You have no privacy. All the millions of requests coming in at once. Why should I bother God with my concerns when there are so many people who are suffering more than me?


I was reminded that I need to stop being so selfish. "See the big picture, think globally." How do my actions affect others?


I talked about Osama bin Ladin,terrorists, ISIS, and people in other hate groups. How we all had different world views and that just because I viewed him as a horrible human being (just like Hitler) it didn't mean that everyone saw him like that. Surely, someone must have loved and admired him, and maybe even saw him as a hero. I talked about criminals in general and how I have no sympathy for them. They deserve punishment, but I also admitted that God is the Judge, not me.


I talked about "lizard-face" (Mohamed Atta) and how to me, he represented all that was evil on this world. I talked about "If you see something, say something" and how ridiculous it was. I joked about how I doubted he would have tweeted his plans, or added it as a status on Facebook or MySpace. I speculated that he probably only discussed it with people who would approve. Otherwise, wouldn't his plans have been thwarted? Never learning how to land a plane is a red flag.


I talked about romantic/sexual Love, desire, BDSM and Polyamory. About what my love style is, and how it came to be. Things I know God knows about me, but I was told to talk about it.


I asked about why submissive men worry so much about what they're wearing to a dungeon when it won't even be worn that long before someone takes it off. I never got any answers to my questions, but I got answers about what makes me me, and I saw all the love I really do have, and how easy forgiveness is when you know that everyone will get to go through it. It's easy to forgive when you know they asked for forgiveness with a pure heart, and knowing that if their heart wasn't pure, it was up to God. What mattered at that moment was the purity of my heart.


Sunshine came out a few times and complained that she was sick. I went through so many feelings, but late last night when I finally felt somewhat normal, I realized that having enough love in my heart for everyone, and forgiving them was important. Even more important, I need to forgive myself. Think globally. That was the message I got from my inquisition.


On a more practical note, I learned that I need to only eat predictable things.

Day 8 What I've Learned So Far (8-3-16)

---

8 days ago I was taken to a local hospital by ambulance with a broken humerus. Here, in no particular order, are things that I learned:

Sometimes pain meds don't remove pain. Sometimes all they do is remove the edge. When my pain is at 11+ on a scale of 1-10, even the strongest meds will only take me down to an 8. Sometimes adding a benadryl will allow me to sleep. Other times, I'm barely even able to relax. Today it's the latter. I can't get comfortable. I take comfort knowing that this is temporary.

Screaming in pain will sometimes help. On the occasions it doesn't, it will prevent people from touching you.

Different cries really do sound different. Shilo learned very quickly whether I was crying from pain, or because I was sad.

Laying down for long periods of time will cause long hair to mat up in knots. The worst part for me is that no amount of washing, conditioning, or brushing has prevented it. I'm resigned to getting my hair cut as soon as it's practical.

I'm more comfortable wearing nothing than wearing clothes. It's hard to put on a t-shirt when I can't even move my arm properly.

The phrase "There's nothing funny about a broken humerus" doesn't offend me as much as most people think. It fits well, and I even said it in the ER.

Like most instances when something bad happens, people will offer to help. I've stated before that lots of times I just don't know what I need or want, but someone taught me something last week. Instead of just offering to help, she offered to come over and fix a few meals for my Family. That was something specific, and it was helpful. She made enough to last 5 nights. That prevented me from eating frozen food, and I really appreciate it. I can't stay in the kitchen long enough to fix one meal, so this was a godsend. I have learned that when someone offers a specific thing, I'm more likely to accept it. This is also something that I can "pay forward" to others. Offering a skill to others.

On a similar note, I've learned to "let go." I'm used to being in control of everything. Right now, I'm unable to do anything without the assistance and cooperation of others. I have no choice but to let people do things that I'm used to doing for myself. This requires a lot of trust in others.

Watching my bruises 'bloom' and change color is fascinating. Rather than looking at them as sources of pain, I view them as works of art and proof of healing. My broken toe is still quite purple. My arm and shoulder are a greenish brown with specks of red. My left knee is purple with long tendrils climbing both up and running down to the side. I almost wish I had taken pictures of them in the beginning so I could compare them. Naturally, it's very difficult to take pictures considering that I'm right handed. I have as of yet to truly manage to use my left hand as well as my right. You'll just have to trust me about the colors.

I detest asking for help to use the bathroom. The first couple of days I couldn't even wipe myself. That was the worst. At least now I can wipe myself and pull my pants down a little. I still can't get them down far enough that I don't need help, but at least it's better than it was before.

I've become very much aware of the weight of things. Holding a spoon in my right hand for more than a few seconds is Quite a feat for me. Feeding myself is next to Impossible with my right hand because I can't lift it. I need to either eat with my left hand or be fed. Being fed isn't enjoyable, but it's much faster than me trying to feed myself.

Using a bowl and spoon is more practical for me when it comes to eating meals. I can usually manage pretty well that way. Strangely enough, I find it easier to eat ice cream in a bowl with a fork. Less spillage. Sometimes I just hurt too much to feed myself, or I'm just too tired. That's when Stitch comes in. He's not overly patient, but he gets the job done.

The more pain I'm in, the more Sunshine comes out. The EMTs mistakenly thought that Stitch was my father because she kept screaming for Daddy. Stitch finally convinced them that Daddy was a nickname for him that I used, and Baby was his nickname for me.

A trip to the hospital can be quite eventful, because each of us have a different last name. Trying to explain it can be a real pain in the patootie. Our story is that Stitch is my adopted brother, Shilo is my husband, and I kept the same last name as my children. They rarely ask questions after that.

Taking a shower requires help, so what I do is make sure that Stitch is home to do it. Shilo is still getting adjusted to a new shift at work. He's only on his second week, and it's taking more out of him than he thought it would.
I'm working on being as independent as possible, because I'm afraid that I may wind up with no help at all after the end of the week. Stitch managed to get this week off to take care of me, but Shilo has no time left.

The more I use Speak to Text the better it gets at figuring out what I'm trying to say. It's much faster than typing with one finger on my left hand. I even surf the internet using my phone because I can't sit at my desk without getting uncomfortable.

I wouldn't wish this pain on my worst enemy. I'm learning patience through this though because I can't do many things by myself right now. This has been quite a learning experience for me. Even the tiniest of steps towards my independence is worth celebrating. I'm kind of curious what I'm going to look like a month from now. Only time will tell.

Getting Burned ~ A True Story

Yes, it's April Fools Day, but this isn't a joke. Still, I wish it was...

Sunday, March 27 was Easter. It's a Christian Holiday celebrated by Christians worldwide. However, because I live in the good old U.S. of A, it's become a day of food and fun, much like the Pagan feasts on which they (Christians) borrowed many years ago.

So, on to my story...

Shilo worked on Sunday. In fact, he works every Sunday evening from about 3PM until about 6 the following morning.  In other words, he works a very LONG shift. This is so he works 3 nights a week instead of the traditional 4. This means that any Sunday Holiday is either celebrated Saturday night before, or Thursday night after. I go all out on preparation of Holiday meals.  My planned meal for Easter was ham, gluten-free (I use corn starch instead of flour) potatoes Au gratin, and broccoli.  I bought the bone-in ham, Yukon gold potatoes, cheese and broccoli last Saturday.

I put the ham flat side down in a roaster pan and ignore it. I always make the glaze separate because I prefer to pour it on my meat when I'm eating it. As for the potatoes Au gratin I do most of the potato slicing using the side of my grater, then Shilo takes over cutting the small pieces I leave with a knife. I make the gluten-free cheese sauce while the potatoes are boiling. When the potatoes have boiled long enough, they go into a strainer.  I usually have Stitch help with that, but he was hiding in the bedroom, so Shilo helped instead. Maybe I wasn't clear in how I usually dump the potatoes, but when I dumped, I got a splash-back of boiling water on my right leg.  Yeah, it hurt like a motherfucker, but a little cold water on the spot and I was fine.  That was burn #1.

Burn #2 was when I took the aforementioned ham out of the oven.  Well, not that moment, but when I used the large fork to turn it over to cut, I lost my grip, and splash! went the ham in its juices, and it got all over the tight tank I was wearing. I ran out of the kitchen screaming in pain, all the while pulling off my clothes. I got into a too-cold shower and screamed more. I eventually settled, and got clean. Fortunately, the 4 inch square of burned skin was a light pink, and not as bad as it felt when it happened. I'm pretty sure I did the right thing by pulling my clothes off immediately. Needless to say, Shilo sliced the ham for me to avoid any further injury to me.

I will admit that the food was so good, it was almost worth the burns.  I'm feeling okay today, and the burns are almost completely gone because I took care of them right away.

Thank goodness I don't have to do anymore major cooking till Thanksgiving!

Kinky

Something's happened. Something's changed. It's left me with very mixed emotions.

Looking back, this is probably the last thing I could have imagined. I acknowledge that I'm constantly learning and evolving/changing. The changes of the past 6 months have more to do with it than I imagined, and I've been helpless to fix or change most of it. Deaths, illness, accidents and disasters. I've been living it.People have generously offered to help me, but I honestly didn't/don't know what kind of help I need. Medical bills have piled up, and I don't like feeling like I owe people money. Never mind the utility bills as well. Between my 911 heart attack scare that included an ambulance ride, Shilo falling and breaking his ankle on the way up to a local dungeon in October that still hasn't properly healed, and my fall that included broken ribs that still hurt, I'm not in very good physical condition. However, I have managed to lose a few pounds. Still, feeling sexy/sexual/desired has gone out the window. The nearly constant discomfort coupled with a lack of desire has affected me.

I don't want anyone feeling sad or sorry for me, and I don't want sympathy either. I just want to do an emotional dump because it's overdue.

Soo... Back to kinky. Kinky has gone out the window. Actively participating in BDSM with Shilo and occasionally Stitch did something for me. I felt alive and we all enjoyed ourselves. I don't feel that any more. I don't feel vanilla either. It's like I'm just existing, waiting for something. So, imagine my excitement when Shilo hinted that he was feeling well enough fora disciplinary session last week. It was heavy on my mind, and we discussed it in depth this morning as I drove him home from work. I picked out a few implements and did my best, watching his pale soft skin turn a bright blood-red color, I checked in with him often, and the look of satisfaction on his face was nice, but all I wanted to do was go back to sleep.

It leaves me asking where Mistress Merry went.  No gleeful laughter on my part, and I didn't demand anything either. FUCK!!! Who is this that took over my body and emotions anyway? She's not much fun! Did I hear someone in the audience ask if I wanted to try submitting? No, I definitely don't want that! Been there many years ago. It's not for me. No, I just want the old me back.

If you happen to see her, can you please tell her I want her to return? Thank you!

New Year, New ME?

Not really... I'm still me, and still recovering from my accident of Friday, November 13th. Ribs still hurt, and trying to get comfortable in bed is a bitch.

My son Jonathan is feeling/doing better, thanks to the Team at City of Hope Hospital. It's a long process, but I trust it will work.

Again, for the God-knows-how-many years in a row, I've purposely avoided making resolutions, simply because they usually wind up disappointing me, but I have decided that it's time for me to make an effort to mend fences and/or rebuild bridges. Dealing with the possibility of Jon's imminent death reminded me that even though I might not get along with a family member, they're still my family, and we all want(ed) Jonathan to get better.  We shared the same goal, so perhaps putting aside our differences would be a good thing. My Mom has been dead for three years now, and she was the glue that held us together.  Maybe it's time for us to try to get along and have a little face time. I'm sure it would make life a little better, especially if we approached it from  the outlook that we share a common goal. It's just an idea in my head that I've vocalized only a few times in the past 18 days. There are other people who aren't family, but it's all in the thinking phase.

In other news, I weighed in on Friday (1-15) at 204 pounds! It's been a long time since I weighed so little, but I'm hoping that losing weight is a trend that will continue. No real diet, no real effort on my part, just a switch to my eating schedule. I've reduced my snacks and absent-mindedly eating. I stop when I'm satisfied, and let Donna (the pit bull) eat what's left. Yes, I still eat junk food on occasion, but I rarely desire it.

My Psychiatrist/Therapist told me a few months ago that he was retiring at the end of January, which was a huge shock to me. I had no idea he was so close to 65. I honestly thought he was close to, or just barely 50, but it's not like I asked him. My final appointment was on the aforementioned date. I didn't spend long with him on Friday, but I did tell him that I'd miss him. I've opened up more with him than I did with anyone else, so it's a huge loss for me. I really dislike change, and seeing someone new causes me LOTS of discomfort and anxiety, but I've met my new (to me) Psychiatrist/Therapist before at an activity, so I'm hoping it will go smoothly. I guess as long as she follows my two guidelines (1. I only call in a real emergency, so please take it seriously and return the call immediately, and 2. Don't fuck with my medication) and doesn't judge my lifestyle choices, we'll get along just fine.

Shilo is still recovering from his broken ankle, so I still do all the driving. I've adjusted my sleep cycle (another reason for the weight loss?) and I will admit, I feel better emotionally than I have in any other previous January in recent memory.

Stitch? Well Stitch is Stitch, only his hearing and memory loss is getting worse. Shilo occasionally jokes about Stitch forgetting the way home, but it seems to be an inevitable thing for him. I worry, but what can I do? I try my best to make sure he's happy, and I remind him of my Love for him as often as possible. His only child will be a first-time parent in March, and there was a baby shower this past weekend, Stitch is soo excited, and we had a nice time. His ex-wife was there, and thanks to our kids being friends for 20(!!!) years, we get along just fine. Honestly, I understand why they got divorced, and because I know his side, and can completely relate to her side, there's no animosity at all. Besides, our kids set us up, and I think they knew what they were doing. It's been nearly 12 years now, and while there have been adjustments and changes, we're all happy.

So, that's my update. Happy New Year!
♥
Merry

About My "About Me" and Consent

This was originally written for my Fetlife blog, but it bears repeating:

Somewhere near the top of my profile, in BIG RED LETTERS is the following:

IMPORTANT DISCLOSURE: I have PTSD, so if you don’t know me personally, please don’t touch me or grab at me without asking. My usual response is “attack mode,” so consider yourself warned.

I put it near the top so most people will see it. What it doesn't say, and shouldn't have to say is that I will occasionally freeze in panic with a "deer in the headlights" look.

Now, before anyone accuses me of overreacting or causing "Drama" I want to say that it's already been handled between myself and the person in question, and that hopefully, it won't ever happen again. A lesson was learned. I'm not angry at the person, he's not a "bad guy" nor is he a "predator." He is someone I respect, and, no, he's not in my circle of friends, but he is a friend of my friends.

So, with all the above, why am I even bringing this up? Well, the fact that I woke up screaming could have something to do with it. I mean, I have a choice: I could allow this to overtake me and continue with the nightmares (that occur all times of the day, including naps) and screaming, or I can write about it in an attempt to 'exorcise' the fears.

"Don't touch me or grab at me without asking." It's easy. "Merry, that's a cool tattoo and scarification." I will probably tell you that you can touch it. The scarification has interesting ridges and it feels good when it's touched. When I engage in negotiations with a sub or bottom, I ask them if there's any body part I cannot touch, and I tell them to ask my permission before handling me.

We're equals, so if we're talking, and you have a pet snake, and I say I'm afraid of your pet snake, you should say, "Don't be afraid, I'll hold it, and you can pet it." WAIT for me to say 'okay' and don't put that snake in my face. I might not react if you put that snake near me, but the chance is good that I'm frozen in fear. Don't ask me later if you violated my consent, because you know you did, and don't ask me why I didn't run away screaming or kick you or said "no". Don't blame the victim! It's your responsibility to ask and wait for permission.

And, in the future, should you unintentionally hurt me or scare me, take me in your arms and comfort me, don't just apologize and go on like nothing happened. The little girl in me (Sunshine) needs to know that she can be safe among friends in a dungeon, and, yes, he started with me, but ended with Sunshine, because she comes 'out' to 'protect' me.

FOR THE RECORD: Snakes don't frighten me, but ask permission anyway.

Adventures in Errand Running (3-2-15)

Introduction: For those of you not "In the know" I'll use this to explain my Household. Stitch works day shift Monday through Friday. He rides a bicycle 20 miles round-trip every day he works. Shilo works extended graves 3 nights a week. (Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday) He comes home on Wednesday mornings totally exhausted. The advantage is that his 40 hours are compacted in that time, and I'm never left alone at home for more than 2 hours on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday mornings. The disadvantage is that I usually wind up running errands alone if I have to do them on Monday or Tuesday. Such was the case today.

Setting: I was unable to take care of banking on Friday or Saturday last week, so it had to be done today. I mean, I paid the bills, but the cash was at the other bank (Chase) that Shilo uses. I also had 2 prescriptions to pick up at the pharmacy, and Donna needed food. I also had to buy groceries. Not overly stressful when you look at it, but the events were not quite that simple. (They never are)

The Plan: get as much done as possible in the shortest amount of time, driving the least amount of miles. Not an easy task... The pharmacy is 4 miles away, the nearest pet food store from my house is 4.5 miles from my house, but an additional 3 miles away from the pharmacy, and let's not even discuss the banks
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The Decision: If I drove to a shopping Center in Lakewood, I could do everything but get my prescriptions in a 2 block radius, then drive back to the pharmacy, which would be on my way home. Total time spent driving would be 45 minutes round-trip, and I could park in one spot for the banking, and pet food store Easy-peasy!

The Reality: I woke up to rain. Heavy rain. Shilo was already in bed next to me, and he was warm and inviting. Did I really have to go out? Well... I had one night's worth of seizure medication, Donna was out of her food, and the banking? Well, I was already 3 days overdue on that one. Couldn't escape any of it. The rain got harder, and Shilo was soo warm, and he was holding me in such a way that if I tried to get up and out of his hold, I'd wake him. Then there was my cat, Tsunami. He was asleep on my chest. So warm, so cozy. I laid in the cuddle pile for a few hours, enjoying every minute of it.

An overly-full bladder and the sun peeking through the clouds and the curtains finally caused me enough discomfort to get out of bed. Out of all of us, I think Tsunami was miffed the most. It was going on 2:30 by then, so I knew I had to leave, I took a quick shower and left. I also managed to leave both my shopping list and the bank instructions (how much to withdraw) at home. I knew I could wing the shopping list, but I wasn't sure how much money I needed. I had to call (and wake) Shilo for that information. Waking Shilo when he's worked the night before and has to work again in a few hours is an ugly thing. He wasn't happy about me waking him. I don't blame him at all...

How I resisted calling him again after the event at his bank was done by sheer willpower. Needless to say, I didn't call him, and the only thing I've told him about it was that I said "SHIT!!!" loudly enough to turn heads. It was horribly embarrassing, and instead of the 3 minutes I allotted at Chase, I spent 20 minutes there, mostly with a red face and a sheepish grin. There are customers who may never forget or forgive me for my outburst and the ensuing hassle I caused, but, honestly, the events (other than me yelling "SHIT!") were not my fault.

Once that was done, I deposited the money in my bank, bought food for Donna, and headed to the pharmacy, and I managed to buy most of my groceries at the store where the pharmacy is located. Oh! Did I hear you complain that I didn't tell you what happened at Chase? I will... be patient! I still had to stop at Von's for some of the groceries, but it was on the way home, and I finally got home at 5:30, nearly an hour after I had planned on getting home. Unfortunately Stitch didn't answer his phone (as usual) so I had to walk in with the first set of bags using the long way.

I had just finished bringing in the bags and putting away the groceries when Shilo got up for work. I hinted that it had been an adventure today, but I told him he'd have to wait until I posted this.

The Public Humiliation: I'm not very fond of interacting with bank tellers, and, under normal circumstances, I'd use the ATM and be on my way, but the ATM has a limit of $500 for Shilo's account. This means I has no choice but to go inside. They have these huge machines that you can withdraw any amount you want without dealing with a teller. You can even choose the denominations of the cash. I swiped my card and entered $540. A big notice flashed on the screen that I could only withdraw $200. I was confused, but I re-entered my card and PIN and entered $200 for withdrawal, figuring I could withdraw more later. The machine made all kinds of noise, and I was getting worried that there was something wrong, I mean, it was making loud noises, and nothing was happening. Finally, it let out a loud groan and it spit out $200...
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in ONES!
That's right! Two hundred one dollar bills!!! Naturally, my response was SHIT!!! I mean, I had a huge pile of bills in my hand, there were 15 people in line, and I wasn't about to stand in that line with all that money!

I saw a man at a desk in an office, and I tapped on the door. He laughed when he saw the horrified look on my face. I guess the machine started doing that in the morning with everyone. He promised me it would be getting fixed, but the damage and embarrassment had already been done.

He apologized, took the cash in the back, and I heard someone let out a hoot, and then "Jackpot!" It took an awfully long time for him to return, but I guess the money needed to be hand-counted. It was when he returned with the two $100 bills that I realized he had customers at his desk. No doubt they were silently cursing me under their breath.

I hightailed it out of the bank, stopped at the ATM and got the rest of the money, glad that nothing worse had happened.

Moral: There is none, other than expect the unexpected when you least expect it. Well, that, and don't yell expletives in a full bank with children present.

Let The Insanity Begin?

I think it already started... Up at 6AM with a phone call from Florida. I guess they forgot I'm in California... Anyway, it just gets crazier from there. Making phobne calls, answering emails, sending emails, fielding calls. FUCK ME!

Noon arrived way too soon, and still the insanity. It must be (easily) 100 degrees outside, and the reality that I never pre-boarded hit me. Did that, for both myself and my traveling companion, called the airline to confirm wheelchair service, and spoke to an English challenged person. Finally checked the mail, only to discover that my credentials necessary for the convention didn't arrive yet! This means an added trip to see the Secretary in El Segundo. Am I mad? No. I'm FURIOUS!

As I was handling that, FedEx arrived with Shilo's gift. I bought it cause I knew he'd love it, and I hope he does.  Sent paperwork on scheduling to the person in charge of that stuff, also attempted to print above boarding passes. No black ink! Got my clothes in the dryer in the middle of all the craziness, and just finished hanging up my new dresses. Now it's 1:45. FINALLY going out to run necessary errands. Wish me luck!

Home

I came to find out that Stitch had a pretty bad accident, and his face is scraped/banged up. It's not pretty. Also, thanks to a certain person being a bitch (she shall remain nameless) Shilo only stayed long enough to be sure that all my stuff was dropped off. He had to nap at his office before his shift tonight.

I'll take his dog, Cookie, home to him in the morning. Maybe, if the stress and pressure is off, and Shilo is feeling better, I'll want (and get) WMS.