Today I managed 30 minutes of walking the hill, stairs, and everything in-between. I did Qigong and breathing, and listened to Dr. Noah. A milestone day - and I should be proud, but I am afraid to be. My body is telling me to stop. My heels are hurting worse each day. My back twinges are warning me it is on the verge of going out. I feel that familiar cumulative exhaustion building, the brain fog descending. Why do I always feel worse when I try to exercise??? It is so discouraging. I will talk to the Mayo doctor and see what he says, I guess. On a happier note, today marks 27 years of marriage for us. Our successful marriage is more precious to me than anything. It is my miracle from God, and answer to decades of despair, I am blessed beyond measure and so very grateful for my husband. We had a really nice dinner out with my sister and her husband. That might sound like no big deal to you normal human beings. But for me it's a huge deviation from the norm. I am not only a recluse, but you never see me out at night. Maybe once ever couple of years for something like this I'll ignore the tiredness, and rue the fatness as I struggle to find something that fits me, anything suitable for evening wear. For one thing my feet will not cooperate with normal shoes. I need squishy soled things that allow the painful bits a total cushioning. Hard hurts so that means my Dawgs plastic rubbery slide thingies. They are not pretty. For another I no longer own anything but PJs, jeans, sweats, and long sundresses. Partially because I don't work or go to church, or keep "polite" company. But also because we live out in the boonies on our 7 acres of woods with our 5-6 cats and chickens, none of whom care how I look as long and love me just like I am (as I'm cozy to sit on and feed them). With Sjogren's makeup is a thing of the past, my eyes can't take it and my skin repels any form of face makeup making it look like alligator scales with those tannish hued creases of gunk. It's so hard to fight feeling ugly, fat, and honestly, I am too weary to fully engage in conversation or with others. I am lucky if I stay up until 9. Then there's the low sodium, no sugar, reduced gluten (etc.) diet... So my point is doing that last night was huge for me, and it was very nice in spite of myself 🤣. 27 Years and Counting I wanted to repost something I wrote in an old, old blog. It is very long, and very romantic. It's the story of us. I tried to find all of the appropriate places to change the number of years. I may have missed a few. To read it, click "read more".
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OMG - I completely forgot about this! Let me preface by stating that I am not on any drugs whatsoever. All though I am a Christian, I didn't consider myself one of those fanatical standing on the corner preaching doom, types. This was like a vision that tore me out of a sound sleep, I was then compelled to write it down. Please excuse the ginormous run on sentences. It was the middle of the night and the words seemed to write themselves. Phrases just tumbled out, begging the question, "Who am I channeling? The pledge of the 13, is a Christian song stating, "if I can be believed when the unbelievable still hold sway, so shall I stand".
Meaning if a faithful person can get through, be heard, understood; in spite of the prevailing perversions, upside-down thinking, moral-less lies of today's popular culture - then I, too will pledge, thereby adding my faith and voice to the others, forming a barrier of belief against the enemy - a spiritual hedge of protection around the world, reaching out into God's universe. The verse changed slightly 13 times to lay down the "spell", to cover all ground or circumstance, to cut off all avenues and loopholes of the deceiver and its followers. In my dream/vision it was my recently deceased brother, Jimmy, who opened the door to outside, which let Sassy our cat out, who I went after, and that's where I heard the song he was singing, the forcefully powerful words he was speaking into the dark. There was one phrase building upon the next like an immensely powerful secretly timed pledge of allegiance to uphold righteousness. As it was recited it brought or released light, and began turning the tide back to sanity, to God. It was visceral as it continued all around me, as if sung by heavenly hosts (or some kind of universal surround sound), even though Jim stopped singing and turned toward me and said, oh, it's you. I could feel the thundering enormity of it, sense the repercussions as each syllable, each repetition strengthened the border between good and evil. I could feel its unique vibration in every atom. It was apocalyptic and biblical, but entirely modern and current. I began singing as if the words were inside of me, like I knew them personally, intimately, as if I was reciting an old standard like the Our Father. But it was a statement, not a supplication. It came from the place of ultimate power, it originated from our Source. What could it mean? Is some modern day revival imminent, issued forth via a Christian rap song? It was presented like a viral TicTok challenge, getting the furthest reach imaginable through social media, video, and song. I knew it spanned the globe. This was "Ding dong the witch is dead", and the Who's holding hands singing praises after Christmas has been stolen, or, "Look, up in the sky!" as a superhero swoops in to save the day... It was portentous and hopeful, a relief. Good does prevail, it is written. |
Author's NoteThis is my personal journal as I navigate life. What I say is from my perspective, it is my truth. I realize the implications of this kind of honesty, it is risky. Welcome
If you have some kind of lung disease, maybe you can offer insight and resources. If you’re newly diagnosed, maybe some of what I post will resonate. About Me I turned 66 in December... Read More Categories
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