Today Is The 6th Day Of The Rest Of My Life

My new life as a non smoker. That's right, I did it! I quit smoking 6 long, hard, stressful, frustratingly slow, days ago. Days where I had to just hold on and know that tomorrow would be a little less horrible than today had been. Riding out cravings that had me gripping white knuckled on to anything near me. Trying not to be too bitchy with anyone who had the bad luck to come in my path. Reading to rags 7 Steps to a Smoke-Free Life, which is an excellent book for any of you who may need a little help along your own obstacle course of quitting smoking. In fact, that book helped me not fall off the wagon during a very bad time in my house right now. It recently came to light that Princess has not been handling her stress in a healthy way: She has been cutting herself. Now, in case you missed it, for all my crabbing about her bitchy ways -- and they can be very bitchy -- that little girl is the light of my life. I would die for her without even having to think about it. She is the reason I'm still on this planet, because she is still on it and I know I can't leave her until she no longer needs me. She and her mother have a very rough relationship, to put it mildly. Very mildly. I know that somewhere under all the hurt, misunderstanding, and loads of hate they have for each other at times, there is a drop of love. It may not be much, but at least it is there, and I hope that someday, when Princess is older, they can try to build a relationship of sorts, because this one is not very good. They are such oil and water it stresses me out sometimes trying to keep the peace around here. Sugarbowl's Borderline Personality Disorder makes things so rough, especially when she has not been taking her meds (which she has not taken for a while now) that it can be a lot of work keeping her from going over the edge about a perceived slight. If you have ever dealt with some one with BPD, you know how incredibly difficult it can be. When her BPD is fired up (it seems like she is good for awhile, then it breaks down and she is ultra sensitive and ready to take everything the wrong way and go into a HUGE RAGE over it) I feel like I have try to keep their dealings as minimal as possible. I try very hard to say things with as little negative inflection in my voice as possible, and if she still takes it as an attack, I have to hold back my own temper, and explain that she has misunderstood what I was really saying. And even then there are no guarantees that it will stop a rage. They will cling to what they think you meant, regardless of what you did mean, and fight with you about how they took what you said. It does not matter how many times you explain that that is not what you meant, they have their BPD up and can't be rational until it calms down again.

In all this BPD mess, I have a voice because I can lose my temper and throw down with Sugarbowl if she pushes me too far, which is saying something because I am very slow in getting to that level of anger. Princess can't say a word, or even twitch a facial muscle when her mother gets angry at her, and that repression is coming out in the wrong way. Communications came to a screeching halt for a few days because Sugarbowl was angry at me (and indirectly at Princess too) because I told her that Princess is cutting herself because of her mother. I should have made it more clear than that because Sugarbowl took that to mean that it is her fault, which is not what I meant. I meant that the problems she and her daughter have are not being handled in a healthy way, and I was trying to give her a heads up before Princess goes to counseling (she has an appointment) and she hears all this from someone else. I'm hoping that we can get through all the ugly that is on the horizon for us and come out the other side with some healthier ways of dealing with each other. Sugarbowl is going to look into counseling, but I would rather she take her meds on a regular basis, if I had to choose. All the counseling in the world is not going to change how she acts when in a BPD rage. I accept that she has Borderline and gets angry easily, but I do not think that is a free pass to do and say horrible things to people and not be held accountable for it. She may not be able to control the shortness of her temper, but she can control the words that come out of her mouth and her actions when angry. Princess does not have the luxury of being able to stand up to her mother like I do, so I have to run interference when Sugarbowl is raging. Right now Sugarbowl is upset about being told that Princess is hurting herself because of her mother, and doesn't want to say anything to Princess in case it adds to the problems she is having -- also as a passive-aggressive way of punishing Princess because her feelings have been hurt because she doesn't want to admit that she has hurt her daughter that deeply. I am the go between and the tension in this house is through the roof. I would rather we all not talk to each other than have any raging fights. As stressful as not talking is, the rages are a bajillion times worse. I think I deserve a HUGE pat on the back for not starting smoking again in the midst of all this crap. But I already broke my arm patting myself on the back, so I'm good. Besides, my focus is on Princess, and knowing that she is going to need me for some time to come makes me want to quit because I'm going to need all the time on this earth that I can get. That is helping me resist the sweet siren call of cigarettes. And what a sweet siren call that is! Darn you, cigarettes! Why do you have to be so delicious?! I look forward to the day that I no longer enjoy the smell of cigarettes. Pray for me.

Gonna Pound This Out Even If It Kills Me!

And it just might. With all the laptops gone to technology hell, we have been reduced to using this old behemoth of a desk top. I'm glad we still have a computer, but, dagnabbit!, does it have to be such a monstrous ancient dinosaur? It takes up my whole room and heats it up by about 50 degrees. Good thing I keep my bedroom so cold, so now it is about 70 in here. And don't even get me started about everyone junking up my room with all their crap! Every day I pull out cups and food wrappers, I try to organize all the papers they leave all over, and resist the urge to practice some redrum on their arses. I've been using a laptop keyboard for so long, this old, stiff keyed keyboard seems harder to use than I remember them being. It makes me think of typing on an old typewriter, where you have to really hit the keys for them to work. I only have this decrepit old computer chair that you have to balance your weight on very carefully, or it will dump you out because the back is no longer interested in supporting anything, especially fat hags who bitch about it. Okay, moving on.

We all were sick for about a week there. The joy of the flu makes me question my decision to not get a flu shot this year. I can always come up with a plethora of reasons to not do it, but when good flu bugs attack, I can't remember any of those reasons, besides me being an idiot. Speaking of good reasons, I have been fighting against doing my shot, because I can think of a veritable plethora of reasons to not do my shot. I'm so tired of needles and shots and itchy injection sites, oh my!, that I am starting to think there is something to be said for going Secondary Progressive. When I mentioned this to my family, it went over like a herd of lead balloons and started a fight that will rage until I no longer have to do any shots. I have not been good about doing my shot every day, and even skipped as many as 4 days a few times. It is getting to be that time that I am scheduled to reorder, and I still have a whole box left. I am pondering whether I should tell them that or just keep it to myself. If I keep up this futile resistance, I'm going to amass a ton of Copaxone that I DO NOT want. Due to the fact that I am not the fighter my mom and sister are, I'm going to have to keep half assing doing my shot, because they are keeping a sharp eye on me to make sure I am as lumpy as I should be if I'm doing my shot everyday. In winter, being lumpy is not as bad, but in the summer, it SUCKS! Has anyone else on Copaxone noticed that the lumps get worse in the sun and heat? I go to the beach and become a mass of distorted injection sites that swell and disfigure my body. I'm not interested in attracting anyone, but I certainly am not interested in repelling everyone. Contrary to popular belief, I do have a few standards, they are just well hidden.

Until the day I can retire all needles, I'm going to be a big pin cushion, like one of those tomato pin cushions, which would be a lot cuter than the lumpy body I am. Ah, dare to dream of no longer having to do any shots. . . The sweet, sweet siren call of Secondary Progressive is hard to resist. (For the record, I know going Secondary Progressive is serious, but so is my desire to not have to do any shots anymore. Although the treatments for SPMS are pretty crappy, too. I've done Novantrone and that is an injection that I REALLY do not want to do again. Good ol' MS! It really knows how to suck the joy out of life.) Now I have to go avoid my shot. Toodles.