I sat down to write a loving tribute to my mom today, but the words aren't coming.
It is her birthday. She would be 68 today.
So many horrible people in this world linger on and on, my mom was wonderful, and she only got 67 years. Not nearly enough.
Speaking of not nearly enough, there are not nearly enough words to express how wonderful she was. Not nearly enough tears to cry to express the pain I feel without her to guide me. There weren't nearly enough hours spent together, for me to have gotten enough of her company. And there were not nearly enough times for me to tell her I loved her.
Happy Birthday, Mommy. There aren't nearly enough ways to express how much I miss you.
Sunday, October 30, 2016
Wednesday, October 19, 2016
Sing it Rockapella! "Where in the Hell is Erica Sobrino?"
I try to be positive and not let myself sink too deep into the mire. I
have been losing that battle. If I seem distant, if I don't answer my
phone, if I don't make plans, please know it's not out of a malicious
heart. I am hurting both, physically and mentally. Scleroderma is a
harsh mistress.
It seems the days that I can get my head in the game, my body betrays me. Lately, I am having serious trouble even doing light chores. Walking to the mailbox with the pups is akin to climbing Everest for me at the moment. So I resign myself to staying in, day after day and the depression grows.
I am person who is terrible at being still. I chose a career that was go, go, go all day because I prefer it that way. When I am in situations that require staying in one spot, I fidget. A lot. If you've ever shared a couch, bench or bed with me you know I bounce my leg, incessantly. My busy soul, trapped in this vessel that won't cooperate, is restless. Agitated. Suffocating.
As of the moment I am writing this I have been awake well over 24 hours, with no end in sight. I can't sleep, there is no moment of comfort that will let me drift off into sweet slumber. I have taken Oxycodone and Ibuprofen 600. Nothing has any effect. At this point I think the pain is causing my adrenaline to go nuts, because despite being up since yesterday morning, I am wired. My blood sugar has been out of wack. It's all a mess in my little world right now.
I want to cry. The pain makes me yelp and wince suddenly sometimes. My pups usually rush over and protect their "wounded Alpha". But as much as I want to just howl in pain, and let my tears tell my story, I know it isn't fair to my pack. My husband, my kids, my menagerie, all share my life, my home, and my burdens. So I put on my stone face and I am here, writing. Hoping for catharsis.
This isn't a cry for sympathy. I know you guys care, and are here for me. (Unless you aren't and that's fine too, except I don't know why you'd take the time to read this depressing shit)
This is a request for understanding. A message to tell you, I still love you. I am sorry that I have missed birthday parties, baby showers, game nights, and I totally screwed the pooch with cooking club.
I miss you guys. I want so badly to have a houseful of laughing faces, playing board games and being subjected to MST3K. I want road trips to Disney, picnics at Mt. Charleston. Paint Nights. A cold beer and a bbq with great company.
But since I DO love you, I don't want you to have to worry. I don't want you to feel like you have to watch my step. (Sam, I'm looking at you at the night of the UNLV game, you were so sweet about the stairs and making sure I got up and down them)
It hurts to see the concern in your eyes when I am limping around. I can't help it though.
So please, try not to resent me. Try to remember I love you, even when I can't be there in person.
It seems the days that I can get my head in the game, my body betrays me. Lately, I am having serious trouble even doing light chores. Walking to the mailbox with the pups is akin to climbing Everest for me at the moment. So I resign myself to staying in, day after day and the depression grows.
I am person who is terrible at being still. I chose a career that was go, go, go all day because I prefer it that way. When I am in situations that require staying in one spot, I fidget. A lot. If you've ever shared a couch, bench or bed with me you know I bounce my leg, incessantly. My busy soul, trapped in this vessel that won't cooperate, is restless. Agitated. Suffocating.
As of the moment I am writing this I have been awake well over 24 hours, with no end in sight. I can't sleep, there is no moment of comfort that will let me drift off into sweet slumber. I have taken Oxycodone and Ibuprofen 600. Nothing has any effect. At this point I think the pain is causing my adrenaline to go nuts, because despite being up since yesterday morning, I am wired. My blood sugar has been out of wack. It's all a mess in my little world right now.
I want to cry. The pain makes me yelp and wince suddenly sometimes. My pups usually rush over and protect their "wounded Alpha". But as much as I want to just howl in pain, and let my tears tell my story, I know it isn't fair to my pack. My husband, my kids, my menagerie, all share my life, my home, and my burdens. So I put on my stone face and I am here, writing. Hoping for catharsis.
This isn't a cry for sympathy. I know you guys care, and are here for me. (Unless you aren't and that's fine too, except I don't know why you'd take the time to read this depressing shit)
This is a request for understanding. A message to tell you, I still love you. I am sorry that I have missed birthday parties, baby showers, game nights, and I totally screwed the pooch with cooking club.
I miss you guys. I want so badly to have a houseful of laughing faces, playing board games and being subjected to MST3K. I want road trips to Disney, picnics at Mt. Charleston. Paint Nights. A cold beer and a bbq with great company.
But since I DO love you, I don't want you to have to worry. I don't want you to feel like you have to watch my step. (Sam, I'm looking at you at the night of the UNLV game, you were so sweet about the stairs and making sure I got up and down them)
It hurts to see the concern in your eyes when I am limping around. I can't help it though.
So please, try not to resent me. Try to remember I love you, even when I can't be there in person.
Monday, October 3, 2016
Team Hooman
As this is the end of Hooman Appreciation/Team Hooman Anniversary, I wanted to share what this community means to me.
I started out actively watching Ryon's stream just over a year ago. I had been off and on, but one particular day I was feeling really low and thought I'd pop in and just be an anonymous viewer. I don't think I had been in the stream 5 minutes before Ryon said "Butter-cup-er-ica is in the house" and then the chat started greeting me. I wasn't as anonymous as I had planned. And that was actually ok for once.
You see, I've always been pretty good at being nobody. The chunky girl that tried to fade into the crowd to avoid the bullies. The geeky girl who never really fit at work, at school, or pretty much anywhere else.
In Team Hooman, you have a very hard time hiding. People are welcoming, friendly and supportive. I can say without hesitation, that at anytime, I can count on my hoomans to be there when I need a bit of encouragement.
When my mom passed away this year, so many hoomans were there to offer me consolation, virtual hugs and tons of less than 3.
I look forward the streams and to talking to everyone in the chat. I look forward to conversations on Twitter.
I don't yearn to be anonymous in Team Hooman. I want to a part of things.
I want to thank all the Hoomans. Thank you all for making me feel welcome. Thank you for renewing my faith in communities and friendships. Thank you for being amazing.
I started out actively watching Ryon's stream just over a year ago. I had been off and on, but one particular day I was feeling really low and thought I'd pop in and just be an anonymous viewer. I don't think I had been in the stream 5 minutes before Ryon said "Butter-cup-er-ica is in the house" and then the chat started greeting me. I wasn't as anonymous as I had planned. And that was actually ok for once.
You see, I've always been pretty good at being nobody. The chunky girl that tried to fade into the crowd to avoid the bullies. The geeky girl who never really fit at work, at school, or pretty much anywhere else.
In Team Hooman, you have a very hard time hiding. People are welcoming, friendly and supportive. I can say without hesitation, that at anytime, I can count on my hoomans to be there when I need a bit of encouragement.
When my mom passed away this year, so many hoomans were there to offer me consolation, virtual hugs and tons of less than 3.
I look forward the streams and to talking to everyone in the chat. I look forward to conversations on Twitter.
I don't yearn to be anonymous in Team Hooman. I want to a part of things.
I want to thank all the Hoomans. Thank you all for making me feel welcome. Thank you for renewing my faith in communities and friendships. Thank you for being amazing.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)