I think I truly am my father’s daughter. 

Although a loyal and strong family man, he was a bit of an ass.
He was offensive, difficult to get along with, stubborn, and everything had to fit his viewpoint. 
If it didn’t, it was automatically wrong or rejected.

Essentially, he was a barely tolerable pain in the ass. 

I think I’m that way too or evolving into that mindset. 

Despite my best judgement, I visited Dr. P (primary care). I’d rather have waited until March when I have full Medicaid benefits but I had already rescheduled some five or six times. And, at the urging of my family and Jason along with partial insurance benefits, I went. And there I was strongly reminded just how physically and mentally frail I am. 

A list of doctors, which include but are not limited to:
– Neurologist
– Urinary
– Cardiologist
– Nutritionist
– Dentist
– Physical therapist
– Wound care
– Therapist
– Whatever Dr. S is

I’ve been diagnosed with acute arthritic in the spine. That’s newish.

… were all recommended, if not demanded, upon. 
I was told that I was in danger of dying. Not from some sort of long-Covid but because my body is weak and probably struggles to just live. 

It’s somewhat of a mini-miracle that my body has enough strength to push blood, let alone bike peddles or even digest food to an extent.

While I recognize that Dr. P is flawed. She is a person and we’re all flawed, I find what she says to be highly personal, upsetting, and directly taps into a vulnerable part of my psyche. One that things that I’m a whole independent being who can care for myself and has the capacity to care for others.

Although, I suppose that’s not the case at all. 
That’s more disturbing than anything.

So, being the independent person I am, I retaliate against those who are closest to me.
I try to pull of being independent and come off as being a complete ass. 

Which makes me wonder if my dad wasn’t of the same mindset. 
He was a strong person placed in a vulnerable situation. Maybe that’s part of the reason why he was the way he was.

I’ll never know. He’s been dead for over twenty years. 
But if he and I truly shared the same mindset, I have to wonder if we aren’t experiencing the same situations. 

If he wanted his children to be better than him… financially, spiritually, emotionally… how can I go about that when I’m so innately flawed?

I’ll never know. 
But, despite it all, I thank God every day for people who care about me and can tolerate me. 
I know I’m not easy and I would be abandoned by lesser people. 

I probably… know… I deserve it.

I am so fortunate and lucky. 
I don’t say it or express it enough but at least it’s here in writing. Now and forever. 

—— Side note:
I AM trying to get better. 
It’s hard to imagine, but I am keeping up with chiro appointments and going to massages to help with pain.
I have kept a couple of doctor appointments… without rescheduling… and have accepted financial help to pay for x-rays and things. 
And it’s hard.  It’s a blow to my fragile independence and I personally find it revolting and intolerable. 

But I’m doing it anyway. 

Even writing this is an act of trying to improve. 

I even went through a small carton of egg whites. It took me a week, but I did it. 
I know it’s not a big win for most people or even a win at all. It’s just normal life. But I don’t know what normal is. 

Every day is a panic attack. 
It’s offensive.
Every day is a challenge, tiring, and depleting. 

I don’t know how much more I can stand.