not-quite Journaling, 46
Autumn is looking rather spring(y).
Beautiful and slightly terrifying, isn’t it?
11/16/2022: Someone who just joined the Crohn’s disease crappy club, said to me, “I’m f*cking overwhelmed by how much I don’t know about this shit!” (I’m almost sure the pun wasn’t intended—his frustration didn’t sound amused). Anyway, I told him that everyone gets tired of the unwanted ways in which being chronically ill changes one’s life. And that the best way to stick it to the chronic illness monster is to learn as much about ourselves and our illnesses as we possibly can. Because cliché or not, “knowledge is power”. And when one lives with a disease that dictates what one eats, where one goes, how one travels… one needs all the power one can get.
Rommy asked me for ordinary. But I was feeling quite contrary. So, I said:
11/21/2022: Most souls living with OCD are probably baring their teeth at these poem bit. On my bad days, I have trouble believing it too. Still, the words are true. For instance, physical exercise helps me deal with intrusive thoughts and anxiety, even when my flesh and bones aren’t really in the mood; the more I’m attacked (and trust me, it is an ATTACK), the more I exercise. And goodness knows my chunkalicious, chronically ill self really benefits from it.
- for Poets and Storytellers United--Friday Writings #54: Writing to a Stranger.
Hello Sweet lady. As you know I share my body with lupus. I am a person who loves research and so when I was diagnosed that's what I did. Fights with doctors who wouldn't listen. Tests that said I was healthy, when I wasn't. Tired of explaining my story over and over and over again. I was on so much medication that I lost the ability to speak, lost movement on my left side. Yes I am left handed. LOL I lost my hair and a host of other things. I was exhausted. Finally, I fired my doctors, got off the meds, did an herbal cleansings and again research. I made my own medicine regime and I have never looked back. It is so true that knowledge is power. I still have flares and right now my hair is falling out again. It is a constant to stay as healthy as possible. Movement, exercise, dancing and then meditative quite works for me. We each have to find the right path, that road that is easiest traveled but hard work to get there. I hope this gentleman will find his road. Much love my friend.ReplyDelete
So many things stood out for me... agree on the compulsions being chains or wings, that's very well said. Also the craft and words on the "become your curiosity" piece... beautiful. Something I shall think about a lot more today!ReplyDelete
I always enjoy your 'not-quite journalling' – though I rather think it IS journalling. Please keep doing it, whatever you call it! I too was arrested by the lines Rajani noted, but the verse about the 'freakishly wild things' delighted me the most.ReplyDelete
I like freakishly wild things!ReplyDelete
This is coming from a human who once had a possum rub against her ankles because it was trying very hard to fit in with the cats.
Hair falling out? Oh, it's actually "modern"! I had a giggle about that at my blog yesterday. Here I've been shedding in clumps and feeling that I ought to be doing quarantine even if I'm not contagious, because I look so bad, and there's Kay Harris telling the world that having stringy hair straggling around your neck is "modern"! She claims she paid someone to give her that look *on purpose*!
I hope laughing about that helps other people get through the sensations that go with hair loss, anyway...
Talking of freakish things, National Geographic recently shared something even freakier about the marsupials (possums, kangaroos, Taz-devils) than I already knew. Males have twin-tipped wee-wees, but because the female reproductive tract accommodates those with a forked intake path to the twin uteri and then sends babies out down a single passage at the back of the whole structure, females can be said to have *three* vaginas. And they can have litters gestating on different schedules in the separate uteri, as well.ReplyDelete
I like the visuals of both your Art Poems posted here today, especially the alternating use of baby beads and typewriter keys (as I would call them; don't know if it's accurate).ReplyDelete
Thanks for a lesson in OCD. I may have it mild but not enough for any disturbance of it. I learned of Alligator reproduction yesterday, the Florida Everglades alligators have a four to one male population. Baby sex isn't determined after the eggs are laid but after determined by the temperatures of each egg. Above 92F (??), the top of the pile, become male.ReplyDelete
You and the groundskeeper produced quite a chuckle from me .. become your curiosity is spot on, we must have an understanding of what our bodies are all about .. you gave me fair warning, moan for balance .. (freakishly wild is a tantalizing thought) .. I think I shared I have a relative with OCD, her journey not always smooth. Happy Week, keep on journaling.ReplyDelete
Somehow, I think I had already commented on this post...or between keeping up with Instagram and ageing, I thought I did. Lol! Anyway, I enjoy reading your 'not-quite Journaling' tidbits. And your stitched poetry, wins always. Wishing you a restful Sunday, Maga. <3ReplyDelete
Hail Fellow Freakishly Wild Lady well met! I identify with your poem big time. I relish it.ReplyDelete
Perhaps being freakishly wild is your ordinary?ReplyDelete
Ooops the above comment is written by me. Google likes to sign me out for some strange reason. Perhaps I am too freakishly wild.ReplyDelete
The spotted lanternfly does look pretty, but so often looks can be deceiving.ReplyDelete
I liked the three photographs on the middle of your post, very colourful.
Sending my good wishes.
All the best Jan
Love the freakishly wild things! Photos are beautiful as always,ReplyDelete
even the lanternfly.
"Compulsions can be chains or wings." So true.