Today…. today is an odd day.
Actually, it’s been an odd week. Month.

Right now, Cammeron from Comfort Heating, Plumbing, and Air is here for a PM check. Although the plumbing is just three years old, we had a lot of problems at the start. The special of $40 seems more than fair. I’m also aware of sales tactics. He’s not going to be able to talk me up.

We have hard water and I’m a bit concerned about the toilet’s tank. While Jason has fixed that before, if it’s needed, I’ll bite – providing the replacement parts are of quality.

Yesterday, I chilled with the little sister.
Monday and Tuesday was with Jason. He took off for an extended V Day weekend.

The week before that, Jason was off to study for the CPA test. It was the week of Halloween.

Mom drops by nightly. The infection is still and probably always will be a thing.

I’ve needed all of this.
I feel like I’m falling backwards mentally. I’m becoming on the edge of desperate

I think I’ve been slowly going backwards for a while but been holding my own.

But the infectious doctor repeated “failure to thrive’ multiple times. That term isn’t new to me. While in the House and with various doctors, that label was applied.

I thought I was getting better. I shrugged it off. I guess I negated it, but now it’s back. The level went from yellow to orange-ish.

Then there was the realization that the bone and infection aren’t separate. Not really. While the infection – the bar – is present, the bone’s healing process is slowed or, potentially, negated. It could even slide backwards, although at a slower pace.

I don’t know and a doctor can’t tell me. Even if they could, honestly, I don’t know if I would believe them. So, these expensive shots and high protein diet may not be a great as I think they are.

The antibiotics, which I could be on for the rest of my life, destroy helpful organisms as well as harmful ones. I’m worried about my prebiotics, probiotics, and everything in between.

Course, when I create a resistance to it, I’m screwed.

Being ‘failure to thrive,’ could take on a very sinister meaning… more that I can just ignore.

At Centerstone, I got switched to this new person. She’s a Karen. I’ve only seen her twice and she started pushing disability. Says I need to get on it. I qualify. I need to do so NOW before Trump changes the rules.

Disability…. ?

I need security. Money is part of that. But disability.

That’s like waving the white flag.

I’d probably have to stop working – such as it is. Yes, Bryant sucks but it is a paycheck of a sort. It represents some sort of independence.

It would mean that I’m fully invested in the nanny state for income and health insurance.

I might as well be a liberal.

…. And I have my doubts about the Karen.
I saw her on Tuesday and hauled Jason in with me. Before, when I go to mental health sessions, he’s been invited. John was great and our meeting went over. Having Jason could help provide an optional opinion, additional view, and greater understanding of what my life is like.

The Karen said no.
He wasn’t scheduled. Wasn’t approved. After the initial ‘hello,’ she didn’t make eye contact. He was ignored.

Not wanting to meet with him is one thing – but ignoring him is just disrespectful.

Little Sister says that I’d have to quit. The disability would be considered income and together, I’d lose the health insurance.

The Karen all but said BS. Little Sister doesn’t know what she’s talking about.

The Karen doesn’t want me to trust family, feels Jason isn’t worth a curtesy sniff, and that I should do as she says just… because?

The thing is that I feel like I’m compromised. I’m predeposed to listening to the ‘experts’ and taking the path of least resistance. I desperately want to be taken care of – not to worry – to avoid strife.

I “think” I’m doing well.
I “think” that I’m doing better.
I “think” that I’m trying sorta to thrive.

But when little children look at me as if I’m some sort of freak and strangers ask if I need help…. I become shaken very easily.

And the mind becomes a self-inflicting trap.

Shamefully, I need loved ones more because of how pathetic I am.

During all this, I didn’t clean dad’s gravestone.
It needs a good cleaning and non-faded flowers.

…..

Trying to hold it together.
I don’t want to go backwards.

I can handle the dark.
But I don’t like the cold.