Ginger my 16 ½ year old dachshund died last week. It sucks. She relied on my husband and me for all of her needs, including unconditional love. She could no longer walk and was uncomfortable sleeping in our bed. It killed me to leave her in her doggie bed at night. My husband would check on her before he went to bed between 12:00 P.M. to 1:00 P.M. Ginger was the sincerest loving dog – anyone would be privileged to have. We were blessed to have her in our lives. I cleaned all of her blankets and bedding the following day after her death, when I found one of her shirts in the laundry hamper I realized I had to keep it without cleaning it. I have that and a small stuffed tiger she used to prop her head on. It has her scent on it which I sleep with every night. I am very stupid I know, but it is difficult to get rid of someone who accompanied me every where I went night and day. Both of my dogs had/have their own doggie car seats so that they can see out of the windows while we drive. Gin had a doggie stroller she enjoyed when strolled her around the lake in our neighborhood. She had a good life although dieing was not in my plans. It’s weird not having to be home within three hours to care for her. We feel a great loss, yet relief in an odd way. She was ready to go but we didn’t know what or why she was not passing in her sleep. We think she was blind the last few days of her life. So it goes we are doing well with the alpha Chihuahua and three cats. Enough for us. Now we will be traveling with just one dog, how very odd this will be.
On the psych. Front I feel that my meds. are not working as well as some have in the past. Everyday is different from the past days. Some days I wake up only to feel with great regret that I have hours to stay awake until I can go back to sleep for the night. Some days I will not be with the program of life. I don’t really hear nor do I care. I see myself physically, but not mentally. It’s like when you drive for twenty minutes and “wake-up” and wonder how you got to where you are. Sometimes I’m on auto pilot and the next day I feel the world around me. I never know what the next day will bring. I’ve had problems sleeping lately. I can’t fall asleep well at all. I take an extra xanax, but it’s 50/50 if it will help me to fall asleep. Then I wake up at 3:45 A.M. Unless I have recorded T.V. shows and can watch them until the national news comes on, I’m bored to no end. We can’t figure out why this is happening, although my sister said that I used to check on Gin around the same time every morning and then go back to sleep. It sucks to have your dog die. We’ve had so many deaths this past year; why not throw in your life long companion?
The end of April we will be going back to Texas for a week. We will see my sister-in-laws garden urn wall – what ever it’s called. Sense I’m numb ½ of the time, this should go well. My PDOC has not returned my call so getting an adjustment for meds. is not going well. Maybe I’ll bring a bottle of Champaign to her urn wall and toast to her awesome life.
Enemy appointments are a waste of mine and his time at this point. I skipped last week and two weeks prior he had something going on. There is simply nothing to talk about. I often wonder when the scientists will come up with a surgery that will take away past events you do not want in your present life. I look at it as a canvas with colors on it. If you could cut one piece of the canvas with just one color out, wouldn’t that make the bad memories go away? None of this makes sense, but I will think out loud this time. Memories that are bad are of no use to me. Someone on Word press wrote informing me about a blog about Straight Inc. http://straightinccopouts.wordpress.com. It is so ironic how that place turned my life upside down. I will tell my story on that blog some day. Every Straight Inc. was a little different. The one I was in was in its’ infancy. The hatred for that place and my mother will never decrease. Therapy was supposed to help, but no one in the mental health field can digest what went on in there or how worse it was when the people in it were mentally ill. Some committed suicide. My attempt failed. Life.
I’m still watching the Jody Arias trial. A therapist was another defense tactic trying to get the jury to believe their defendant was a battered woman, although she was stalking Travis before she killed him. Amazing how the jury doesn’t believe this theory! The jury members are allowed to ask questions which are so cool. Juan Martinez is a dynamic lawyer. This trial is one of my three reality shows I keep up with. It’s just amazing how the experts in the mental health field are being crucified by this lawyer. Perhaps I’m biased when it comes to people in the mental health field.
My PT is going well. I am looking for a used Bosu ball. It looks like a large speed bump and costs way too much in my opinion. I put a post on Craigslist asking if anyone wants to sell one. Perhaps next week someone will email with one. My exercises are boring. I prefer walking, but that is not stretching I guess. Old, old, and old my body is! I am playing brain games from the computer. I may not be too stupid as I am getting higher scores. At 4:00 A.M., after I get my coffee, brain games can pass the time some what. I have no art projects going at this time. When I do they just pop up in my mind when ever and then I have about a week before I must implement it. Very odd, yet this blog is about my twisted mind.
All in all, things are fine up here. The weather is interesting. It will be in the seventies one day then go down to the teens the following day with snow. No hail yet. I’m anxious to get the flower seeds planted. I grow huge. tall sunflowers in the front of the house, three different heights, staggering from top to bottom. The tallest ones are generally 9 feet or taller. I have three different packages of various flower seeds that I will also be planting. I give up on vegetables other than butternut squash which I saved the seeds from one that I bought this past winter. I used to grow plants when I was a child. I never wanted to be in the house. Gardening was my outlet back then. We’ll finally put a sprinkler system in this year. Thirteen years of dragging hoses with sprinklers attached all over the yards is a pain.
This is going to be an interesting endeavor; I am going into business for myself. I need to put social security money (for lack of a better term) into my account for the future. I will be making soft dog bones. I’ve done this for years for my own dogs, so this should be any easy transition. I’ll put some free biscuits out in packages in a basket at my husbands work with my email address wrapped in ribbon and info about price, etc. I just have to watch my stress level after being out of the human environment for a while. But it will be all done at home and my husband will deliver them. Petco was interested with my product, but I was higher than a kite last year when I approached the local management. We’ll see if I can rebuild my self confidence some what. The biscuits are cool, just oatmeal, brown flour, can of mashed vegetable or fruit (squash, bananas, grated zucchini, etc.), eggs with a little vegetable oil. I also put a little bit of baby formula when I have samples. I have a food dehydrator now and may add bits of dried fruit such as apples in the biscuits also. I am excited sometimes with this idea, and then I feel a little over whelmed with the prospect of having responsibilities again.
So, I’m concluding my perimenpausel stage in life – yeah. Now I’m going into pure hell, menopause. Supposedly since I’m already taking a lot of psy. drugs, this too should be a breeze – NOT! I swear I’m going to die this summer. I am either very cold or extremely hot mostly at night. I read that at this stage in life, my body is just going back to its normal self once again. I didn’t like life when I was 14 and now I am to experience life as I was before my period. I don’t see myself climbing trees or running around the neighborhood exploring life‘s gifts. Nope, not revisiting my past, although climbing trees was a lot of fun. Michael Jackson was still climbing trees in his adult years, but I wouldn’t get away with climbing trees in the neighborhood, they would report me knowing my sanity is questionable at times. I don’t like some of my neighbors after one neighbor mentioned that I had the bipolar 1 disorder. I feel they look at me in an odd way. Paranoia is a problem with me.
Life can be so complicated, yet unique if you keep at least a little window open to allow life to continue until you can catch up.