Tuesday, May 19, 2015

So. Never Enough Hours.

Photo copyright Aji, 2015; all rights reserved.
I always have such big plans for what I'm going to accomplish in a given day.

It never happens.

Oh, I've been productive today — extraordinarily so, actually, despite the lingering effects of one of the sorts of multi-day migraines that leaves me mumbling unintelligible syllables involving everything just stopping.

In addition to all my usual daily chores, muck duty that Wings was planning on doing, so that he could cadge badly-needed studio time; ginning up today's in-depth post for his site, from scratch, natch; and a complex and complicated beadwork project that had to be done TO.DAY., the kind of close detail work that is death on eyes, hands, neck, and shoulders alike. It's done.

What I did not get to, and now will not, was the writing I had planned. You know, for myself. Reworking my old stuff, as I've been doing for some time now. In light of the significance of this day, The Ghost of Earl Little seemed apt (one of the many that have inhabited the places of my life), but Mr. Little's ghost deserves time and attention, neither of which I had available today.

Now, I'm going to explain a few things. When I do, I'm going to close comments, and when I link this elsewhere and I say I want no comments there, I MEAN IT. Look, I know there's the dominant-culture dynamic where "I don't want to talk about it" is code for "please ask me."

I don't do that shit.

When I say something's off-limits, it is. I don't respond to boundary violations. But I know that people are wondering so here's what (and all) folks get.


I have alluded, several times, to additional health problems. I have, at my advanced age, apparently developed (or, rather, re-developed, since I also had it as a child) idiopathic hypoglycemia. 

I AM NOT DIABETIC. 

Yet. 

Even if I were, this would not be anyone's cue to weigh in telling me how to manage it. I've been dealing with this disease in my family my entire life, and I know it inside out, backwards, forwards, upside-down and every other conceivable way. I help Wings maintain his, and I have from the day we met. I do not need advice on what to do; I know what to do, even should it eventually turn into diabetes. And all the "knowing what to do" in the world does jack and shit when my blood sugar suddenly plummets to nothing. I manage it. But it's one more strain my body that I really didn't need.

It's not the only one. Apparently, I am also now severely anemic. I am taking steps to deal with that, too. yes, I know what to do. I'm not the first person in my family to deal with this.

Finally, I am doing all of this in conjunction with dealing with heavy personal upheaval. For those who've actually bothered to pay attention to what I've written in the past, you should have put it together by now. The short version is that there has been a death, one that involves estrangement and attenuation and guilt and the dredging up of all of the absolute shit that was the entire expanse of my formative years, infancy, childhood, adolescence, young adulthood, beyond. It has been, and will be, traumatic for me. That is all I'm going to say, and it is a topic not up for discussion.

NOT.

PERIOD.

I will write what I write when I write in the way that I do when I need to get the poisons from my past out of my system just that tiniest bit more. People are perfectly free to ignore all of it; I'm writing for my own health, not for literary purposes and sure as hell not for any kind of attention.

But things do get back to me, and so I'm putting this much out there to strip away any of the bullshit that is likely circulating.

Because I have work to do.

And lest anyone think otherwise, Wings has been my rock through all of this, and will continue to be. Friends have no need to worry; he is, has been, and will continue to take the absolute best care of me possible. We certainly have more than enough health issues in common these days. [And to those who are not friends, but who stalk this site daily: Tough shit. I'm here, we're here, neither of us is going anywhere.]

Now, it's unlikely that I will bring these topics up again. No one else needs to bring them up to me. 

Period.



All content, including photos and text, are copyright Aji, 2015; all rights reserved. Nothing herein may used or reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the owner.