It's been a while since I didn't have a fluffy post. I'm guilty. I've been the Artful Dodger again.
A week ago, I was breaking up with Luke. In the mean time, he told me, "I miss you," and it plum ripped the heart out of my chest. With him, I am destined for the potential of the head strong and tumultuous (two way street there, our personalities are so alike), although the last week has been calm, per my preference and request. No mountains out of mole hills produced. His sister thinks he was trying to push me away, because of being burned so badly in the past. He's comfortable with that line of thought and he seems to have let things go.
Apparently, there's a scene in "S1eeping with the Enemy" in which Julia R0berts peers in her cupboard and sees meticulously arranged rows of cans, a control-oriented habit she continued per the lingering preference of her overbearing former lover. The philosophy is that there comes a point that you have to mess up the cans and reclaim yourself - and he realizes that I'm not his crazy, ethnic ex-wife, so he's trying to mess up his cans. I do enjoy him using movie references all the time. He has a lot on the tip of his brain.
So, I've held out talking more about him, almost embarrassed and not wanting to jinx it, that things are good.
Tonight I'm holding out on the art class. Again, I am embarrassed at not going, but I couldn't find my bootstraps today. Took two very short naps - kind of like when I was in college and had 20 minutes between classes to catch up on shut eye. I guess I needed it, but it feels odd holding out on the art teacher. She's good to me, although she is a strange bird, a little too sappy sweet and with 3" of make up so she looks like a Toulouse-Lautrec painting.
I'm tired because my thyr0id doctor had made me lower and then gradually raise my thyr0xine dosages again - because I am now on BCPs. Oh the irony, but I was tired of the pain and extra bleeding, plus I'm 44 to boot and pained about being over the hill (see recent post). Apparently there can be an interaction between BCPs and thyr0xine level, so I have to fiddle to find the right dosage again, hoping that I don't explode again at Xmas in the process. However, my college-style naps and cold nose are probably because of the thyr0xine being too low, so it should pass.
Luke asked over the weekend about the BCPs, "Did you really go on them because of me?" Poor thing, he really takes his motility etc numbers to heart. Perhaps they're stellar, but not to my fucked up body. I am trying to not to do thyroid/antibodies research to learn perhaps why I couldn't reproduce again, but it seems most likely. I'm holding out on myself with that one, head in the sand.
Okay, I've been holding out on you on a couple other new developments. For one, I am consigning my wedding set from P - tomorrow, and hold me to it. My schedule has been so busy and I keep bumping it back, but I think tomorrow is the day. At this point, I'm a little embarrassed that it is momentous feeling, but it is. I miss him and football/tailgating/cooking Thanksgiving/hanging out even as I don't want him. It is momentous, too, because I fucking love that ring and wish I could convince some other guy that it'd be okay to use for some hypothetical future marriage. heh
I've also been holding out on a new diagnosis. Yeah, I needed another, but I am officially ADHD. I received the diagnosis through doing some fancy electronics, something the psychologist is doing pro bono for lucky me. Otherwise, this course of treatment would be over $6000. Next month, I should be able to sleep and focus. My brain will no longer turn off, bombarded with sleepy waves, when I try to concentrate. The new and improved will blow us all away. I have hope where I've not hoped for anything in a long time. No more meds, no more side effects, chains gone.
And I am trying hard not to regret what I might have been if my brain had been corrected 30 years ago. Let not the same fate happen to my son. Let ex's latest get rich quick scheme work so my son's brain doesn't continue to fall asleep at the wrong times, too.
Lastly, I've been holding out about my volunteer project, which has been both rewarding and tedious. It comes to a head next week and I hope I can speak coherently in front of a crowd. Maybe I'll talk about it more when it's over. I am glad to have done it, have honored the ones who did it before me, have provided great opportunities for many children, and have run myself ragged, but in a good way. Next week, after the invitations and medals and certificates and displays and cake, then I'll relax. And probably do it again next year. I won't hold out that I'll do any different.