Slow Saturday

Saturday - 12 January 2013

Mom came in this morning and basically triple guilt tripped me. She wants me to get up and get walking, even if it just around the courtyard at first. She warns me again of putting stuff on Facebook that sends her friends rushing to phone her. She disagrees with my blogging the way I do about what I do. She feels it just shows I'm wallowing in my disease and not actually living any more.

I agree with the getting active again. It has been difficult with the pain I've been in, particularly foot pain. We've only recently, like last weekend, found that the combination of Tramacet and CataflamD gets me pain-free enough to brave anything. Somehow she makes me feel as if I haven't been wanting to get active, as if I have been playing up the pain or faking it altogether. Does she actually think I enjoy being pretty much trapped on my couch as it's too sore to even walk further than the kitchen or toilet? Why would anyone fake this level of discomfort?

What I put out on Facebook from my profile is what I deem fit to go out. Mostly it's pictures I find amusing or that speak to causes I support. Links to my blog posts go up there too. Sometimes I put statuses up. It's the statuses that seem to do the most harm. Those are what send her friends running for their phones. And strangely it is for the more innocent ones, which I find more amusing. Surely the pictures which so my support for marriage equality should be more alarming than my saying that despite my condition, I still care and want my friends to talk to me. Many people that I was talking to prior to the first operation, have suddenly dropped into radio silence because their big issues suddenly feel insignificant compared to my status quo.

I understand that this over-reaction comes from a good place and with much concern from people who have been in our lives for a long time but it's ill-informed and the alarmist response only serves to create more stress and tension in an already stressed and tense situation.

As for my blogging. I wish people would pay attention to the dates at the top of the blog posts. They indicate the actual date concerned which most often not isn't the date the blog was published as I am perpetually behind in updating. I blog about what is going on, how I feel about things, how I wish things were different, my reactions to what is going on and some of the reactions of those around me. They aren't always pretty. They often could give the impression that I am bogged down by my disease. Blogging is how I process and my psychologist and psychiatrist both agree that it's a good way for me to put into words what I am feeling, thinking, reacting, perceiving and what is going on around me. Getting the facts down so I don't have to keep retelling the same story everytime someone asks about what is going on, so I don't have to relive it with each retelling. I know my mom doesn't understand this. I doubt she ever will. She is not the one to show emotion or let other people know what's going on in her mind, particularly not those she doesn't really know. Even those she cares about rarely fully know what's going on in her mind but we have learned to accept that. I find release in my blogging and will continue to do so.

If you don't like the statuses, don't read them.
If you don't like the blog posts, don't read them.
If you don't like what you're reading, don't read it!
No one is forcing you to read this, any of this, any of my ramblings.

Around lunch, I catch a lift with dad to Spar. We both need to get out for a bit. I blog some more. My post about @aj_venter and @madgurl69's wedding may seem harsh to some but it's my blog with my feelings and I was twitchy on the day. Two more blog posts follow about my sunburn following the event and how angry I was that it was just from incidental sunlight. I'm still very sun-sensitive. I hate it. It traps me in my house. Later I go shopping with mom at Mr Price Home and Sport at N1 city. The storm seems to have blown over again. I wish she would see how her reactions harm me so.

I head through in the evening to visit with @terridcCT again at Milnerton Medi-Clinic. The op went well but she did have to mark the leg. We laugh about that, thinking the doctors and nurses should know without us having to point it out.

I'd fed my cat before I before I left to go to the hospital. Only now that I'm home, she'll eat. I do not pretend to understand my cat.


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