Tag Archives: death

Hypersensitivity to smells (gonna whine now, feel free to skip reading this)

Back in November-ish, smells started to bug me. I’m not pregnant; I’m 100% sure of that, but strong (and many food) smells turn my stomach.

I mentioned it to my doctor, and she suggested I contact a local taste and smell clinic. They have a long wait, and I just sent out my paperwork yesterday, but I’m hoping they can give me some answers.

The hypersensitivity to smells is just one more thing that seems to be piling on to my list of weird symptoms that come along with the muscular pain.

While I’m waiting to hear back from the clinic, I’m struggling to get through the day dealing with most smells making me very uncomfortable. I’m hyper aware of the smokers in the building, I can’t stand the smell of cooking food… it’s so uncomfortable, I find myself wanting to cry (well, that & the muscle pain/cramps). Mint is a tolerable smell, so I’ve gotten into the habit of dabbing mentholatum rub under my nose to curb the nausea…

I dunno… the clinic’s website says they generally can only help about 1/3rd of the people they assess. I hope I fall into that 33%; I don’t want to have to live with this hypersensitivity (though my mom also has a similar intolerance for smells. She developed it in adulthood…)

I’m so tired and run down. Triggers around loss abound, and it’s not helping anything at all. A friend’s 6-year-old daughter died unexpectedly Sunday morning (in her sleep, cause as yet unknown, though she had several serious medical issues), it’s coming up on the anniversary of Chow’s death, my brothers in law’s dog passed away the same day I felt like someone died, but couldn’t think of any anniversary… and my 40th birthday is around the corner. I don’t feel 40. I don’t want to be 40. I shouldn’t have ever lived this long… Dr. C suggested that maybe this dread of age is rooted in past experiences (especially since it’s paired with the feeling that someone’s passed away)… it kinda makes sense… doesn’t matter though, since she’s now off for 2.5 weeks in the tropics, so I can’t really process that with her beyond Monday’s brief conversation.

I guess I have a fair amount of reasons to cry, but it still feels unwarranted… I’m just so tired.

The depression hit super hard a week ago Monday, and very suddenly; it felt like a switch was flicked. The intense depression hit, the muscle cramps and pain started, that bitter taste came back (it colors everything I eat or drink)… the smell thing is just intensifying… it’s all so oppressive…

So yeah, whining…


Endings suck…

…Even stupid, meaningless ones that shouldn’t suck as much as they do.

Like tv shows that let you escape yourself.

And fictional characters dying.

Because they tug at the old hurt of all the losses that came before, and were actually meaningful…

It compounds when more than one loss is piled on at the same time. Then suddenly everything else comes flooding back, and it sucks…

The stupid, meaningless losses take on all the hurt and emptiness the previous ones left you with…

At least Lucifer wrapped up the series well, almost as if they were planning on ending it this season. They could take it further, but this is a good stopping point. They gave is the closures we needed to be able to walk away from the show satisfied.

Scorpion, not so neatly wrapped…

Totally left without closure; Chris passing away Monday. She had gotten through so many health issues over the years, ones that were true miracles she recovered as well as she did… I guess her body finally gave out. I’m not even sure if it was the cardiac issues, the kidney issues, the cancer, or something else that finally took her. Before this week, she had beaten cancer, recovered from kidney failure, and was recovering from bypass surgery… she and L were friends for a quarter century (give or take a year or two). I had only met her after I stated dating L, but she was an amazing person. She is greatly missed.

… Then the older stuff picks up; L’s dad, Chow, ButtButt, K & T, Floppers, Twigs, Tigger, Dizzy, Sugar Cane, Almond Joy… De, Chrispy, LKB… All the endings that were sudden, painful, and unresolved.

It all gets rolled into a giant ball that feels choking and overwhelming.

This time of year seems to hold a disproportionate amount of those losses…

And then there’s July 7th (the anniversary of K’s death, and almost 14 years later, my first suicide attempt… there were only ever 2 thought-out attempts where it was a conscious choice. Anything else resembling one was an impulsive, desperate attempt to find some peace, but not necessarily an attempt at ending my life… I blame it on the meds. I’ve never done anything like that when I wasn’t spiraling out of control on psych meds. Even when I was ridiculously depressed, I never gave in to the impulse when not on psychotropics. They work wonders for some people, but I am not one of them)…

Back to the original point of this post: grief sucks. Losses suck. Especially when the biggest, earliest ones were never resolved…


More loss

Tuesday evening, L’s dad passed away quite suddenly. We don’t normally stop by on Tuesdays (it’s usually a day spent being at home after I return from work), but this week, L wanted to go hang with her mom. I’m so glad she chose to do that…

A short while after we left, she got a call from her mother that she thought her dad had died. I was taking the dogs out at the time L ran past me in a panic, yelling that she thought her dad died. It took me a minute to process what she said as she was running towards the car. I dragged the dogs to the car (I’m pretty sure one was pooping at the time I yanked them with me). I drove us the 5 minutes to their house. It was the longest, slowest 5 minutes I’ve felt in a long time. It seemed like every car was going 30 miles an hour too slow. 

We turned on to their street, and you could see fire trucks and police lights on both sides at the end of their drive. The truck driving in front of us had to slow down to figure out where/how to get past them. It took everything in me not to lay on the horn and fly up their driveway (their house is set back quite a way). I know he was just being safe, but I really wanted to get L there to be with her mother. 

Up the driveway, there were yet more police cars and ambulances. I’m not sure how many first responders were there, but there were easily a dozen or more emergency vehicles. L’s mother was sitting in her car watching them work on her father… 

They worked on him there at the house for a good 30 minutes to an hour, then took him to the er. I had L and her mom ride to the hospital with one of the officers. My car had been blocked in by one of L’s brothers, so I stayed till after they took her father away,  and the rest of the family went to the hospital. I ran home to drop off the dogs and pick up a few things for L. By the time I got back (maybe 40 minutes later… I kinda got lost on the way to the hospital…), he had been pronounced dead…

We were all kinda in shock. We knew he wasn’t feeling well, but he wasn’t one to let on how sick he really was, not even to his doctors. Heck, he had even been to the doctor that morning and they bs’d about country living… 

The hours and days since then have been spent with L’s family making funeral arrangements and just hanging around. It’s not totally sunk in yet. Tears and sadness comes in waves… the worst part for me had been seeing the emergency vehicles every time I turn down their street. I can’t get the image out of my head even away from there, but it’s most intense there. 

I wasn’t very close to her dad, but way closer to him than my own father. I wrestle internally with feeling like i’m intruding on their sadness. I know to a large degree that’s old family values leaking through on my part, and not much basis in reality (her family has been nothing but loving and welcoming). It’s still difficult to shake though. I’m sure I’ve driven L nuts with my constant checking and asking if they’d rather I be away… I’m trying to do most of the reality checking within myself…

I have to work tonight, so that will be weird. Hopefully I can get lost a bit there… I’m sad for L. I’m really sad for her mother, who had to find her husband. I’m sad for L’s family. We’re all going to miss her dad. He was the kinda guy that might talk a lot of shit about people, but he also wouldn’t hesitate to drop everything and go help someone out if they asked… I’m pretty positive he knew most of the town. Almost everywhere we’d go, we could find someone who knew L’s family through him (it’s not exactly a small town. I know I keep saying “town”, but it’s actually, technically a city)…

I dunno… there’s been so much loss lately. I’ve become even more paranoid about the dogs. I worry about L’s mom. I worry about my own mom. I worry about Dr C… 

These recent deaths bring up stuff from decades ago when my aunt and uncle died a few months apart. I start to worry that similar things will happen. I worry we will lose Sadie & Alex a few short months after Chow died (it happened that way with my last pair of dogs also, and even with my favorite snakes. We had to euthanize Sandy, then Gizmo got really sick less than a year later. Sugar Cane died suddenly, then Almond Joy had to be put down several months later…). I worry something may happen to L’s mom (she’s talking already like she’s going to be gone soon. I get some of that is grief. They would have been married 60 years this year, but given the patterns I’ve experienced, I worry)… I really don’t want more loss right now. 

Like Dr C said, grief is complicated…


RIP Cow…

There aren’t words to describe how heartbroken we are. Chow passed away this afternoon… I almost went to work (and she would have died alone at home), but I tripped over her when getting ready, and she was unresponsive. I called the vet to tell them we were coming in, called L to ask her to leave work, and then called my work to tell them I would be late (my boss told me not to worry about coming in, she’d find coverage)…
Chow lasted till I  pulled into the parking lot at the vet. I heard her take her last breath before I got out of the car. They were able to get her heart started again for a few minutes, but she died shortly after…

We are still in a combination of shock and denial. She tanked so quickly… 

💔😭

Miss you tons baby girl…


I find certain things incredibly difficult to bring up in therapy. I’m not sure if it’s the way Dr C and I go about things, or the topics themselves, or my fear of disappointing her, or what, but sometimes I struggle till the end of session (or even after season is up) with how to introduce talking about certain things.

Last Monday, we had mentioned some stuff at the end of session that I really had hoped to cover today… only today I couldn’t bring it up again in time. The only reason I brought it up at all was because she caught me looking at the clock trying to calculate if I had enough time to get into it. I didn’t. She gave me the option of coming in again this week if I wanted. I took the opportunity, and also asked if we could talk about the self harm stuff that session. She said we can always talk about it, anytime. I told her I wasn’t sure how to bring it up; it’s one of those things that feels irrelevant unless I’m mired in it… only it’s difficult to talk about the “grand scheme” of it when I’m wrapped up in doing it, so it would be good to talk about it now when I’m not fighting urges… we established that it isn’t a current occurrence, but that it’s always in the back of my head (much like the concept of dying is always there).

I hope she can help me break into the subject next session.

Does anyone else find it difficult to bring up certain things at times? It’s not so much that it’s triggering or difficult to talk about (though it certainly can be), it’s just that we get going on another topic, or we seem to stay lighter, and I don’t know a good way to break into the heavy stuff. I find when there’s something I really want to talk about, I stall and sputter and pick something totally unrelated/surface to talk about when there’s actually something much more specific and heavier to talk about. I fall into the default notion of “they don’t really want to hear that stuff because it’s too deep/personal/uncomfortable so I’m just going to avoid it. I know it’s counterproductive for therapy (I mean, heck, that’s what I see the woman every week for: to talk about the uncomfortable/icky/ personal stuff), but for some reason I can’t get out of my own way and simply open up about whatever it is I really want to talk about most sessions. I’m so nervous and anxious about presenting well and progressing, I can’t bring up anything that might hint at any regression…

I know she says I don’t have to worry about disappointing her, but I always do (worry)… :/ I have this intense drive to please people and make them happy in order to make them like me. It rarely works. Half the people aren’t swayed by my frantic attempts, the other half take advantage. I know I should be more authentic with Dr C, but I don’t want her to give up on me or be mad that I’m just always drama…

I need people to like me. I need them to know I exist, and to want me around or I might blink out of existence… I know I won’t really cease to exist if they dislike me or no longer want me around, but the little kid in me doesn’t get that. She’s still desperately trying to please everyone around her in an effort to justify taking up space and resources… funny how much the kid in me is desperate to be real, while at the same time another part of me wishes and hopes for an end (the depressed part. The part that’s so tired of fighting and struggling and trying)… annother topic for therapy “some day.”

Oh, I’m supposed to make “balanced happy” art for Dr C. She was thinking I should do something that makes me happy/feel loved, surrounded by more things that make me happy and feel loved to keep out the darkness (or create a shield against it). She did some concept sketches in session today, and I think it might turn out really cool, I just have to figure out how to execute them in an interesting way… guess that’s a project for this week sometime. It won’t be done by Wednesday’s session, but maybe for next week?


Half-asleep irrational panic

I woke up a few minutes after 1am to the older cat howling. In my half- sleep state, I asked him what was wrong and simultaneously told him everything was ok & go back to sleep. L was sleeping sprawled across the bed, which left me squished into a tiny sliver of space. I wriggled one leg under her’s to feel more anchored to the bed. In my haze, her leg felt extremely heavy and unmoving even after I wormed one of my own under it. She didn’t seem to notice.

In that half-asleep haze, I panicked she had died some bizarre death. I listened for her breathing. For an agonizing several seconds, I  couldn’t hear anything but the cat. I swear my heart dropped through the floor and my brain did frenzied back flips… and I suddenly became wide awake. I heard her breathing and felt her moving slightly as she slept. My rational brain kicked in; she’s relatively healthy. The likelihood of her randomly dying over night in her sleep is slim…

I’m still a bit panicked. It’s taking my heart- rate a while to return to normal. My brain is still buzzing with left-over activity brought on by the half-sleep nightmare. I can hear her breathing though. I know she is alive and well… now I just have to convince myself it’s ok to fall back asleep. It’s only 1:40 am. I still have 4 hours of sleep time. I’d really like to make use of it.


Art instead of other things

As much as I didn’t want to be in therapy on Monday, I was really looking forward to group on Thursday… only group got cancelled 😦

So, in an effort to keep on the right track with my coping skills, I did art all day…

I’m not sure if I posted about my experiment making my own canvas journal, but I worked on that and some ATC’s that will be going out on a swap (if I can ever decide which ones to actually send. I like them all for various reasons. Some have deeper meanings than they may appear to just by looking at them).

Anyway, here are pics of it all. Some are WIP pics, others of completed pages/cards… I used Inka Gold on the canvas. It doesn’t work well. The paint is cracking and chipping already. I need to come up with something as a hard cover for the journal to help protect it better. It works fine on solid objects, but it’s not meant to be pliable once dried.

I’m glad I had the distraction today. Between pms, the passing of one of L’s family members (and what it’s bringing up for me), increased body sensations, stress around one of the dogs having eaten a spoon a week ago and still not passed it, and the thought of a crazy day at work tomorrow, my thoughts have been hovering over the more negative coping skills. Similar to what I mentioned to Dr C on Monday, I just wanted to be drunk, high, and bleeding. Instead I played art and listened to the Ellie Goulding station on Pandora… yay for picking the more socially acceptable coping skills.