4:26 pm
…and it’s better than good-ish! I mean, I am starting to see how hugely beneficial this “break” from Facebook might actually be in terms of my relationships, including with myself.
At first, I felt a sense of relief; as in, ahhh, I don’t have to follow all the news/information; ahhh, I don’t have to “care” about this random person’s feelings or thing they did. I felt like there was much less noise in my head, and that made way for more space to think about *my* life, this blog, my future employment prospects, i.e., what I want to be when I grow up (after lockdown ends and we all are supposed to go back to normal).
Then, I had a sense of clarity around relationships, accompanied by some sort of resentment and ultimately, mild disappointment. As it turns out, some of my “friends” on social media are just that–friends only on Facebook. In real life, I guess we don’t have that much to talk about, and frankly, we probably kind of annoy each other. I just can’t anymore with passive-aggressive behavior, so I might just let them go–it’s probably for the better if I feel this good!
Past two days, I seem to have “remembered” that I have, um, really old, really good relationships with some people–cousins, old friends from growing up, my family–so, why the HECK have I been chasing the comings and goings of people I barely know? It’s just crazy-making, and I see it now as such: I mean, why not focus on your actual, tried-and-true relationships, the ones that have already given back and will continue to do so? That’s what I’m going to focus on this week when I get bored or restless wondering where all my “friends” have gone–reach out to those friends that I have, to those that have already proven to be worthwhile, to be relevant (as in, we have a real history together).
On another note, my furlough is going well; I mean, I have a ton of things I want to do (read my last post), and have just started to get back into reading. I am supposed to be reading 50 pages a day in this book (it’s over 1,000 pages long, and I just want to get it done!), but I’m already behind on that! I love taking walks, and of course, I go running outside and do yoga (and sometimes lift weights) indoors. I mean, life on an island is pretty glorious as far as “lockdown” goes; we’ve got space here, and no one is enforcing any strict orders (except for the beaches; they have been closed the past two weeks, supposedly reopening tomorrow). We have all this beautiful outside world to explore, and I love it–more than ever, since now it’s truly empty of humanity and I get it all to myself! (as an introvert, I am dreading when things open back up…and the pressure of having to socialize is put back on us)
On a different note, we woke up this morning to our sweet dog–a chow-shepherd mix–in what I have come to call an “osteoarthritic crisis.” She’s had a few of these crises, which seem to come on at night, usually around dawn (um, thanks to perimenopause, I am up most of the night with her, to witness when all this takes place–haha). She pants really, really hard, and kind of paces around, obviously in a lot of pain based on the way her limbs have stiffened even more than they usually have by the end of the day.
This morning, however, she was in a state that I have never seen: not just panting, but panting SO VERY hard that her tongue was extended to breaking point and was almost purple; she was like, almost seizing/having a seizure, her legs and arms would not move her around no matter how hard she tried. She finally got to one of her beds and eased herself down to a half-sitting/half-standing posture; and she kept panting, her body shaking with the force of her panting (I thought she was going to have a heart attack, I really did), for like, an hour.
We gave her her morning meds–gabapentin and rimadyl–and on top of that, some old pills that we never give her, save for when she’s in a lot of pain, both a tramadol (a pain reliever) and a trazadone (a sedative that the vet gave us for the flight down, which we never used). Finally, after much panting, watering, and just sitting next to her with my hand on her side, she settled down, eased down onto the bed, and went to sleep.
I think it’s getting really close to time… I mean, other dog owners would probably shame us for letting it go on this long–she started to limp badly almost 1.5 years ago–but, it is what it is. I have never had a dog go through this, and most of the time, she is fine in her mind. Lately, though, and especially this morning, which scared me, her body is just showing severe signs of “I can’t do this for much longer.”
At least I have time to spend with her now, not having to work. Today was like a hangover day for her: those days that were 100% wasted, sleeping off the sobering up, and then, waking up at 5 pm to realize that it was almost dusk, you still felt like shit, and you had just wasted another day (and night before; none of my nights of drinking were ever memorable, if remembered at all). That’s a dark comparison, but one that I can’t help but make.
It’s almost sunset time here, which means, time to go onto the deck and watch the colors fade from the sky, sinking into the horizon until everything turns to ink, then black. The stars will appear, first Venus, then the Big Dipper; then, the night will fill out as the evening plods on, and the black will become peppered with a spray of pinpoints of light. I wonder, how many of those are stars and how many, satellites? I can never tell which points of light are planets, and I can never pick out but a few constellations. Every night, though, I go out onto the deck, and look up, and gaze in awe, and in gratitude–most nights, I am burning up and feeling awful along every inch of my skin, BUT, I can still muster gratitude…and hope. I hope that our girl knows that she is up there, already, one star and many–she is my shining star, my Higher Power; she will light up my night sky forever. I hope she knows that, or at least knows that mommy is thinking about her when she steps out into the night and looks up.
Drunky Drunk Girl 