“No! I don’t want to save seats. Don’t put me through that!”

astronaut art

Since the Fleetwood Mac concert, I’ve been quiet, calm, and surprisingly tranquil (considering the world is on fire.)  I’ve spent a lot of time thinking.  It’s funny how a rock ‘n’ roll concert, in all its heart-thumping glory, can trigger inner stillness and contemplation in the aftermath.  I wasn’t stapled to the floor as anticipated as a result, either.  I’ve merely slept more deeply and productively;  Bonus.

I sense some healing took place during the experience.  Yay.  I’m not very good at narrowing these things down.  (I probably can’t be bothered in my rush to celebrate.)  There are light and airy feelings I associate with healing recognition; like a gentle euphoria — a release of a burden whose loss keeps almost surprising you.  I love it when positivity is playful.

My body is depressed today.  It feels strange when my emotions don’t match my physical response.  I prefer body depression over mental depression.  I’ll take an annoyance over despair anytime.  It still takes a lot of pep talks to get anything done, though.  Gravity has suddenly increased in my dot of the universe.  Even sitting upright to type this is taxing.  (Still better than despair.)  Heh.

optical illusion photo

The hot flashes associated with menopause are over.  I didn’t know they were temporary!  I thought it was for life!  I’m so thrilled by this discovery.  Upon further consideration, menopause rocks, yo.  (I mean.  I don’t know what’s coming up that requires hair in weird places, but whatever.)  Love.  It.  It’s easier to get up earlier now, too.  I must have reached the oh-shit-it’s-morning-exasperation saturation point, and started wrapping things up sooner subconsciously.  So ninja.  😂

I just took a short break to catch my breath.  Body depression is ridiculous.  I’m not a chain smoker.  Typing at my desk should not render me breathless.  At least not without the agonizing soul ache that typically accompanies.  I feel like I put the world on backward today.  It fits better this way.  Heh. (Puts a star in the blessings column.)  What?  🙃

I failed on my first attempt at seeing my primary care physician.  It was too cold to risk.  (I think the windchill was -52 F.)  I stepped outside and did an immediate about-face.  Sadly, their’s no DIY option to reschedule online.  You have to call or go in person.  (I don’t speak on the phone.)  I plan to go there to order my glasses and reschedule on my way out.  I got two snail mail letters from the VA with a deadline of February 14th to reschedule.  (Sorry, not sorry about your agoraphobia, bitch?)  😶

Anyway, I can do it.  I’m aiming for a day with temperatures above 0 F.  Monday is looking hopeful.  It’s harder to combat agoraphobia during severe weather.  I forgive myself for choosing safety over victory.  The days of shrugging off weird weather are gone.   Journey before destination.  I’m off to test my new coat heater while I walk the dog.  💜✌🏾

“I saw someone on the street eating M&M’s with a spoon.”

The Fleetwood Mac concert was last night.  I still have a massive grin on my face.  I’m floating on a cloud of joy, today.  Since I attended alone, I took a Lyft ride there and back.  Aside from struggling to locate my Lyft driver among so many others after the show, it proved ideal.  Instead of waiting in lines, the crowd smoothly flowed through security to our seats.  It was like being gently guided.

twitterish meme
joke credit: VisualVox

I was seated among lovely people who reminded me why I love Sioux Falls so much.  A woman seated with her partner in front of me turned around and gave me a high-five when the band took the stage.  I was between a group of young women and two men around my age.  We spontaneously swayed arm-in-arm to the music several times while singing along.  😮😍😆🙃

It startled me at first, but I played it off and joined in.  Then I internally celebrated my happy amazement over bonding with local strangers without the slightest bit of panic.  I had floor seats, so we stood from the moment the music began until the band took a bow at the end.  I wore cargo pants with a leg pocket for my phone, which was perfect.  I didn’t lose anything while mesmerized by the performance.  Yay.

happy doof

After a few songs, I realized I was standing there on tiptoes with my hands clutched in fists just below my chin, shoulders hunched, eyes open as wide as they go, and presumably a super goofy expression around my grin.  (Part of me is secretly hoping the band couldn’t see us well from beneath the lighting.)  I couldn’t help it.  (Even though I’ve seen photos of people doing this, and thought they looked like doofs.)  Heh.

I had a fantastic time.  I did see one other black person, but I think he worked there.  😂  (I didn’t look around at the audience once the band started playing.)  Mick Fleetwood’s drumming blew my mind.  His kit is gold with penguins on the kick drum.  After stunning us with his skills, he got up and casually tossed his sticks while exiting the stage.  (So cool.)  He did all the faces, too.  I love him.  😆

The magical vibe that only Fleetwood Mac can create remains wrapped around me like a hug.  Watching Stevie Nicks in her element with my own eyes was a bucket list moment.  She rocked.  I love her.  (I’m making that face again.)  Christine McVie came out from behind the keyboards to sing beside Stevie Nicks, too.  (I may have involuntarily squeed.)  I loved seeing Sharon Celani and Lori Nicks singing backup, as well.  The band sounded fabulous.  The percussion and bass were felt as well as heard, (which is how it should be.)

The new lineup is tight and smooth together.  I think they’re even better now.  (Yep.  I said it.)  The tribute to Tom Petty was brilliant.  I’m off to continue being a happy doof while I practice drumming.  ✌🏾💜

p.s. Here’s the photo I took (just before I forgot my phone could do that.)

Fleetwood Mac concert Sioux Falls

“What’s with all that sniffing?”

child at aquarium viewing polar bear swimming

I’m having a good 2019, so far.  (I’m already keeping track.)  Heh.  Ever since I leveled up in the game of life, I’m more apt to notice positivity.  It amuses me as I used to be one of those people who automatically scoffed at others saying, “think positive.”  As if thinking a certain way can vastly improve my quality of life.  Pshaw!  Cue the condescendingly tolerant reel that plays whenever I witness hippy-like behavior, courtesy of being raised in the upper midwest.

Either the community brain-washing didn’t take, or I’m a rebel.  I’m presently engaging in all sorts of hippy-like behavior.  I just got back from a mini-vacation in Denver.  Since M accompanied me, I was able to partake of the legal variety of weed while there.  (I decided I don’t need to use it very often, so mini-trips suffice over moving.)  I still feel like it’s having a positive effect on me.  Reverberations from reaching a state where I experienced no anxiety, I presume.

broken cookies

When I got home, my blood pressure meds were waiting in my mailbox.  I have to see my primary care doctor in the next three months, or I’ll run out again.  I suck at noticing symptoms until they bring me to my knees.  Now that I’ve taken a dose, I can already feel the difference.  It feels like someone just let me out from between the heavy mattresses that were crushing me on the sly.

I’m sensitive about my hypertension.  In my case, it seems my blood pressure and anxiety level increase in tandem.  The closer I get to freaking out, the higher my blood pressure rises.  I despise having it checked with the auto-cuff.  It usually starts a loop of ever-increasing numbers, until the medical person groks the pattern, and turns it off.  (I’m embarrassed by this quirk because I strongly suspect I caused it during an experiment I did years ago attempting to train myself to suppress all visual signs of stress/anxiety/depression.)

It backfired, I think.  I waiver between the benefits of masking to prevent stranger danger and the dangers of mistreatment due to not presenting stereotypically around poorly trained medical professionals.  I’ve apprehended a resolution to my difficulties in getting racism-free care at the Sioux Falls VA.  I’ve concluded my best option is to forgive the mistreatment in the past, and move forward without the baggage.  (It seems kind of duh, now, but it took me a while to figure it out.)  😂

bunny suit costume

It turns out; I’m allergic to baggage.  It slows me down, weighs me down, and worst of all hurts me.  (I’m also allergic to pain. 🤫)  My ability to reason when enduring pain is pathetic.  I could work on that, or I could focus on avoiding pain when it’s a choice.  I’m big on narrowing down the root, so I’m going with the latter option.  Fortunately, I don’t have any chronic pain conditions, and borderline-unsafe high pain tolerance (unless it’s above the neck.)  Most of my pain is a result of poor choices.  (Ouch.)(Shaddup, ego.) 🙃

I’m going to schedule an appointment with my primary care doctor at the VA.  When I believed this action impossible, it was due to being buried in painful baggage.  Now that I’ve engaged my Superpower of Forgiveness, I’ve freed myself and can imagine a fabulous 2019:  A year that includes preventative health care, lots of joy, and the Fleetwood Mac concert.  (Okay, the last two are redundant, but who’s counting?)  😂✌🏾💜

“I’ve driven women to lesbianism before, but never to a mental institution.”

kittens wrapped in a blanket

I’ve draped myself in the comforting blanket of music, of late.  It’s gently healing the many wounds I’ve acquired on my journey so far.  In this pleasant space, I’m building a better survival strategy for when The New and Improved Depression Monster (TNAIDM) ambushes me in the future.  I’ve acknowledged how it affects me; out damn pride.  First to go is my wit.  I cannot rely on my keen mind when stapled to the floor.

woman listening to music

I don’t know how TNAIDM steals my intellect and rationality, but the evidence is overwhelming.  I must plan accordingly.  My inner gamer sees this as a challenge.  There are no walk-through videos to study on YouTube.  No strategy guides on message boards.  Only me, my presently uncompromised wit, and my shelter of music.  Challenge accepted.  Victory awaits.

Today, this blanket consists solely of music by Sheryl Crow.  As I listen and sing along, the lyrics reach me.  My strength and resolve rebuild.  My focus broadens, and my sorrows fade.  I remember who I am and embrace the biggest picture I’m able to perceive.  I’m stardust floating through space.  Soon, my minute of life will end, and what remains will drift on with the expansion of the universe.

All my pain is insignificant from this perspective.  I can breathe.  I can even laugh over the concerns that leveled me yesterday.  They fail to weigh me down when I zoom out and allow myself to float.  Snapshot.  Save.  Remember.  💜

 

“Will you calm down? I took all my blood to Newman’s.”

Me so happy

I probably shouldn’t be blogging right now.  My mind is threatening a meltdown.  The upcoming concerts I’m anticipating are wreaking havoc on my ability to remain calm.  My thoughts are running at warp speed, so there’s little chance I’ll stay on topic today.  If glimpsing someone else’s mindmap in raw form disturbs you, this is your signal to bail.  You’re welcome.  🙃

I wish people would add links to their blog on their WordPress profiles.  I can’t believe I’m going to be in the same space as Beyoncè and Jay Z.  Damn.  My hands are shaking again.  What the hell?  I can sense my mom’s spirit scolding me for being a fangirl.  (It still stings.)  I used to get in trouble for loving people too eagerly.  Is it weird I so rarely relate to others on a physical level?  Survey says, duh.  (+10 for consistency.)

If there were an awards ceremony for being weird, I’d be getting lifetime achievement props (while grinning at the wrong camera via satellite.)  Dammit.  😁  Be good at whatever you do.  My dad told me that when I was bawling because the neighbor kids told me I don’t play right.  After that, I took pride in how well I organized all the Barbie accessories; (/acceptance speech).

OMG, it's almost time!

I heard a cutoff bit of commercial by Autism $peaks yesterday.  I equate the organization to a bumper sticker that reads; Your kids’ autism paid for my kids’ education, rehab, and bail! Sigh.  People are very human.  Regardless of how holier than thou, we believe ourselves to be, we still opt to be naughty whenever the opportunity presents.  Most of us merely restrict our behaviors to that which we’re confident we can commit without consequence or shame.  (It’s just that some don’t seem to feel shame at all.)

The naughty gene is universally present in warmbloods, it seems.  At least those I’ve managed to observe.  We despise this in others despite possessing it ourselves.  Human and hypocrite are synonyms.  Society determines the threshold of tolerance in all instances.  We reset every time we awaken.  No wonder it’s so arduous for me to see people. They continuously change before my eyes.  I haven’t trusted vision since I was 11.

A Song of Ice and Fire by George R. R. Martin continues to dominate my reading time.  I purchased the first seven seasons of the HBO series recently, and I’m reading and watching daily.  When the series strayed from the novels, I got out of sync, and am now much further ahead with the books than the series.  Reading is much more intense for me.  Yay.  I learned how to marvel at the FX when things get all stabby, instead of getting triggered.  (I’m pretty sure I long-blinked through the beheading scenes, though.)

Those with no shields experience joy more easily.

There’s an underlying theme to the characters resembling a priest who broke faith before ever taking vows.  Reading of the human condition in such varied and well-developed imaginings tickle me all the way through.  George R. R. Martin sees people very well.  My mom’s spirit is already scolding me for fangirling over it.  I want to scream; it’s impossible not to love people when you honestly see them!  Hello!  And on top of everything, Fleetwood Mac is coming to Sioux Falls!  Those seven words are playing on a non-stop loop in my head in Stevie Nicks’ voice.  Yes. There’s a dance to go with it.  💜  I’m off to beat my drums with sticks.  ✌🏽