Wednesday, April 11, 2018

Some Days.

It doesn't happen to me often, thank goodness, but it happens.

I get so brain-dead from burn out that I can't write one sentence. Not one damn coherent word. I sat down yesterday intent on talking about the progress in my writing class and how having a specific formula had helped me and I couldn't remember functional words of the English language.  It's confusing and alarming to me that the one thing that I do can't be accessed AT ALL when I'm like this, but I sort of know where it comes from...

My week has been a garbage fire in a few ways.

Monday was an electrophysiologist appointment, which went well. It was a great MD, it was great news (sort of figuring out where my SVT is misfiring from and planning to change medications before doing the exploratory surgery) but I think people forget that heart problems are still scary. Weaning off of medicines that control your heartbeat suck, and I'm in the trenches of that before my big med switch. 

Tuesday the sink flooded the kitchen. We fixed it, everything dried out, it could have been worse. It still sucked to open a cabinet door and have a mini-ocean pour out. 

Wednesday was a simple case of a forgotten lunch. Except it's testing week at school- so there are no lunch drop-offs. 21043210984 phone calls later and we were finally sure my son wouldn't starve at school after dropping off food once testing was complete. That was between daily errands like grocery runs. Sometimes not running things like a great big public school makes things suck. 

And I just finished filling out the pre-paperwork paperwork for my daughter's neurologist check-up tomorrow after a seizure last year. It's nice we get these appointments, but none of these are not nerve-wracking and never have been since she arrived premature and sick. Tomorrow is sure to kind of suck, too. 

I have no idea how people write in the middle of bad weeks. Or bad months. Or bad years. Yeah, that happened to me, too. 

I don't know how you break out of the wall a daily grind for survival puts you in. 

So sometimes I sit down, in the peace and quiet of the evening, and that's all that happens. I give up, go to bed early, and hope maybe tomorrow I have the brain space to dream and write again. This week was mostly too stressful, but it's not over, and maybe next week it will be easier again. 

And I take writing classes. Those do kind of help. 

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