God, I’m in a mood this morning. My country is going insane. I wish we had a giant Cheeto as a president too.
I can’t figure out which is worse:
- Kid that got his elbow shattered by a bully in school.
- Child bride nonsense still ongoing.
- Pedophile being allowed to return to the general population even though he was already caught molesting a child.
- Man that killed the woman and her two children by slamming into their parked car is being let go even though there more than ample evidence to convict.
- And last but certainly not least. We have to look out for human traffickers. That are blatantly snatching people in broad daylight.
I’ll say this though, I won’t be surprised if the citizens start taking matters into their own hands.
It seems like there’s a tendency with my fibromyalgia to worsen during the month of December. That’s been the case for the last 3 years or so. I had hoped to have avoided that fate last year but it reared its ugly head 3 days before New Years.
I have never experienced pain that intense before. So much that all I could do was whimper, scream and cry. Luckily, I didn’t start this year with most of my limbs damaged. I also learned that fibromyalgia is somewhat degenerative. You’d think I’d have noticed on my own but nope. I hadn’t really considered that possibility, since most of my energy was focused on finding was to cope with the pain.
New Year’s Eve found me in the ER at the St. Augustine Private Hospital since I had spent the 3 days prior screaming my head off. Here I underwent a new batch of blood tests and x-rays trying to determine if the pain was due to getting injured. (I have dissociative episodes so I don’t always know if I’ve injured myself). The x-rays were fine. The blood tests came back with elevated white blood cells. And the final result was that the fibromyalgia had worsened.
January was quite depressing for me because I missed the entire months worth of classes due to the amount of muscle relaxers that I was on. I’m not so far behind that I can’t catch up on my own but I worry about the side effects of the higher dosage of Cymbalta. It’s nothing that I wasn’t expecting but I hadn’t realised that the brain fog would be quite this bad. It’s to the point where it literally hurts to think.
As per usual we’re always looking into possible solutions and Tempurpedic beds came up. I was able to try out all the variations in the showroom located at Aripita Avenue. To my suprise the beds provided a ridiculous level of relief. For the few minutes I took to try them out I had no pain. There was a sense of my body feeling as if it’s weight had been lifted off my muscles and bones. They didn’t hurt my soft tissues at all unlike my current bed.
Now I find myself impatient because knowing there’s a solution and not being able to obtain it immediately is intensely frustrating. I’m trying my best to not add unnecessary pressure to my hubby so we won’t end up messing up our finances. The beds are quite expensive after all.
I’m writing this while waiting for the Tramacet to kick in so if there’s any gibberish, I apologize.
I used to identify with the labels I thought would define me, making it easier to communicate or so I thought. Now I’m older I understand that if I take on a label, I’m choosing to associate myself with all the terrible things (as well as the good) being perpetuated under that banner.
Nowadays the only label I accept is humanitarian. I care about the betterment of those around me and it really doesn’t get more complicated that that.
I don’t care about political parties that change their tune as soon as they’re elected. Nor do I care to identify by accident of birth or allegiance to one gender. Or religious affiliation.
If I see a minority being attacked I’ll try my best to defend them but I won’t hide the atrocities they commit because it’s to hard to believe that suffering doesn’t automatically ennoble a person.
If I see someone passed out I’ll at least administer first aid or call an ambulance.
I am not unique. I am just human.
Since I’ve moved to my new place I’ve had two bad experiences with men. One just happened: a homeless guy grabbed my hand and bit me then proceeded to chase me all the way to my house.
And another happened a week ago. My leg had popped out the joint and the person who stopped to help me turned out to be a pervert. Luckily nothing bad happened just a few unpleasant memories and of course more guilt.
I’m currently waiting on my hubby to come home so he can carry me to the hospital to make sure I wasn’t infected with anything. It didn’t bleed but it burns a lot so one can assume he broke my skin. I seriously doubt I’ll be able to escape that guy if he catches me a second time. I dislocated my shoulder as I yanked my hand away. That bugger was fucking strong.
I’m pretty upset right now because I never used to be scared all the time when I was training. I knew what I was capable of then and I knew when to run away. Now, I have no idea if I can defend myself because my body never listens.
I’m supposed I managed to outrun him without my legs popping out of the joint. I only wish I had the energy to run straight to the police station. They would have had to take me seriously if the crazy guy followed me all the way there.
I thought I had come a long way but it seems I was wrong. I’m cowering in my bedroom terrified and having flashbacks. It sucks but my mind is my greatest enemy when it comes to dealing effectively with these sorts of people.
I can only hope that homeless guy isn’t actively marking me.
Like most people I see the problems that Trinidadian society faces and I’d like to do something positive about it.
One of the ways I’m drawing inspiration for the movement I’d like to start in Trinidad is by looking at what works all over the world.
Unfortunately this can get rather depressing. Looking at the anti vaccination movement and the strong anti LBGT and anti race sentiment that a small but influential minority in the US promotes. I feel like my faith in the human species is slipping.
I want to believe that we can be better than this but it terrifies me that everyone is so close minded.
Even the so-called social movements are not much better than the ones they claim to oppose. All sides engage in logical fallacies and seem to believe that the ends justifies the means.
Case in point. Jenny McCarthy. The pro-vaccination group vilified her for what she promoted. Forgetting that at her core she was a mother terrified of what was happening to her kid.
It’s stupidly easy to take advantage of people who are this vulnerable and there are many stories of the ills that charlatans visited upon these people.
Instead of offering these victims support there was an overwhelming sense that these people deserved everything that happened to them.
Alternative media networks like AlterNet that I strongly considered using as a starting point for the movement showed their true colours as parasites that are benefiting from the divide.
Sure they publish some food stuff but occasionally they allow conspiracy theorists a platform to spew their dangerous ideas.
This is not good. If you want to present yourself as a place for people to learn about their community then you destroy your credibility with these tactics.
The world is not black and white. Its not a matter of us or them. We are all in this together and it would serve us well if more people would keep that in mind as they go about their daily lives.
I never could understand why she was never called to account for the level of bullshit she was peddling. She never apologised for her behavior either. I remember the “a million little pieces ” debacle. Instead of taking responsibility for her shoddy research she called the guy and his editor onto the show to embarrass them.
Sometimes I find myself remembering things so embarrassing that the only way to get it out of my head is to yell it away. Does that ever happen to you guys?