Everything But the Books

I don’t know what is wrong with me lately, and at the same time, I do. I’ve written and scratched out, crossed out, rewritten and deleted posts. Some are still hanging in the balance of the edit circle, where I don’t want to backtrack in my life to go over them before I post them, and only want to move forward. Our eyes face forward so we’re always looking ahead in life, not behind. It’s not the way God intended life to be.

Things have been strange lately. Not that they’re ever not. My life has a way of doing funny things and I’ve learned to expect the unexpected and roll with the punches. Health wise, I think I’m barely hanging on. I’m handing it better on the outside than I am on the inside, and most people don’t know there’s a thing wrong with me. I have a rare blood disorder that is causing an even more rare pressure on my brain. It’s one of those, “we’ve all heard of this, but we’ve never seen it” situations amongst my doctors. There’s not much that can be done. If they don’t break up the blood, the pressure will cause a hemorrhage, or worse, a stroke which will lead to a hemorrhage. If they do try to break it up, that will also cause a hemorrhage, since too much blood will be loose in my brain.

I also had an autoimmune neurological test come back positive, though the doctor who did the test has taken a month to let me know the results, and won’t discuss what positive results mean and what kind of treatment plan there is for me until my appointment in August. She knows we’re waiting on clarification on the results to move forward with treatment for the issue with my brain, as the positive test results greatly affect what route they can take to get the pressure off my brain before it does hemorrhage. Waiting three months isn’t acceptable and it could be too late by then. Clearly, it’s time for me to find a new doctor who cares about what’s going on with me. There is also something going on with my heart, and I have a pre-existing heart condition. She also won’t discuss that with me until August. No wonder I’m stressed in the moments where I’m supposed to stay away from everything stressful as not to cause more pressure on my brain. Doctors aren’t supposed to stress you out worse.

I’ve had a lot of weird side effects with the issue with my brain; anything from loss of vision, to blacking out, to severe dizziness, to barely being able to walk or stand, and also not being able to control my emotions due to where the pressure is sitting. Possibly the weirdest is forgetting people; ones I have known that have meant so much to me. A good example is Craig, my ex. I remember how I felt about him, I remember moments and things that happened between us, and I remember things about him. I just don’t remember him. When I try to recall him, he’s just a blank. I couldn’t tell you what he looked like to save my life, and it’s very strange. It’s a bit scary, too. I wonder how bad things will get or if this will or can cause any permanent damage before we are able to solve the issue at hand; if we’re able to. Every route we think we can take meets a roadblock because of my other health problems, and I’m scared. I can barely function right now and I’m worried about what could and will happen to me. Yet I still know there’s people out there who have it worse than me.

I’m not supposed to be using the computer, really, but I’m bored half to death, which isn’t funny considering. I’m trying to write my novel now that my heart is telling me what novel I was meant to write, but if I stare at the screen for more than a half an hour, my vision goes on me. I’ve been trying to brush up on paranormal stuff, ordering and reading books about the history – both paranormal and non paranormal – of the area so that I can piece together some absent parts of past cases I’ve worked. I have sewing to do and lots of Little Miss Suzy Homemaker types of things to occupy me, but I can barely move from the couch most days.

Little Miss Suzy Homemaker fits me fine. I found a part of me that I lost nine years ago when I realized that people can hurt you just to do it and not give a damn. You can’t find yourself until you lose yourself, and the last eight months have ripped me at the seams. I may not be the long-haired red head that dresses in jeans and rock shirts anymore, but I am a curly haired blonde who loves the south, Johnny Cash, June Carter, Lemon Breeland’s style and vintage things. This is who I am and have always felt like I wouldn’t be accepted for. But when I go to the store wearing a vintage dress that’s so very June from the 1950’s, guys still talk to me and bitchy women avoid contact with me. It’s a win. I’ve gotten rid of the old; the things I didn’t like and thought I should, and replaced them with things that make me happy and are so very me. That includes people. I’m more me than I’ve been in a long time and very grateful for that. I’m certainly not the same woman I was a year ago. Someone will love me for exactly me, and I’ll be my best me with them. I don’t know if that’s what I want; I may want to just be alone. I don’t need another Johnny to my June. I don’t want to parent my significant other through parties and too much drinking again. Only time will tell.

I’ve had a blind spot when it comes to the paranormal ever since I got sick. I was backlogged six months in cases before I got sick, and now it’s more like a year. Things have started to come back to me slowly. I can see Sarah again. I can hear Lauren. I’m trying to slowly get back into taking cases, without stressing myself out. I’m still not where I used to be, and I can’t sense things like I normally can. My friend thinks that, when I get better, I’d make a great television show. Maybe I should start taping what I do, I don’t know.

But I ask, dear readers, as I try to find a niche with my blog, should I tell my paranormal stories on here? Should I make a section for it? Should I do updates with videos instead of typing, and also include some of the cover songs I’ve recorded? What would you all like to see this blog become?

Through the years, I’ve had to learn a lot about stressing myself out, and this also comes from the paranormal side of things, too. I’ve always felt obligated that, since I could see and speak with the dead, I had to help everyone who had a paranormal problem, and I’ve always done it for free. This has recently led me to learn why people charge. I’ve taken the cases where the people couldn’t afford to bring in help, and most of the time it has gotten me talked back to from completely complacent, unappreciative homeowners who want nothing to do with getting rid of what is in their home, and don’t understand it’s a process in which they have to be involved, as well as a process that takes time. When someone pays you to get something out of their house, they are truly prepared to do any and everything it takes to get it out, because they are serious about it. I still don’t have the heart to charge, though, especially because sometimes I get the most wonderful, grateful people who are so delighted to have help and truly become such beloved friends of mine. They make what I do worth it.

I’m not going to be able to see to keep typing much longer, so before I go I will share a short story. Please let me know what you’d like to see more of on my blog and what you think is a good niche for me. Everything has changed and I’d like to start over.

I don’t wonder why the U.S. Postal service is going bankrupt. Our local post office is like a tiny violin playing the soundtrack to their own little movie, which would undoubtedly be some twisted, weird sequel to Dumb and Dumberer, just minus all the original stars and completely unscripted as cameras follow our mail carriers and postmaster around. I’ve told you stories before about leaving packages out in the rain and inside flower pots full of water, and then lying about there being something covering them. I’ve probably even told you about how they will never alert us there is a package at the post office for us, and only when the original sender gets it sent back do I find out they never bothered to do their job and simply returned it to sender. I’ve contacted the head office several times, but they keep kicking back the complaints to our postmaster. They don’t seem to realize that she is the problem, no matter how many times I’ve politely told them.

With not feeling well, I’ve found myself having to order things that I need online more and more because I have more bad days than good, and I can’t exactly go to the store when I’m having issues getting around. This has brought on a whole new stupidity of our mail people called, “we shall steal her mail and she won’t notice.” But I notice. Knowing how our mail people are and that most places don’t give you a cost efficient alternative to shipping besides FedEx Smartpost, I’ve downloaded all the apps to keep track of my packages. Still, they have a whole new plan of action.

Fedex’s website will tell me that my package was dropped off at my local post office, with a date and time. Oddly, my package will never arrive. I give it five days or so and give things a chance, but the package never shows up. I go to the post office with the tracking information and typically get the postmaster. Though I have the information right in front of me saying that the package was delivered and checked in by our post office, she tells me it’s not there, refuses to look up any tracking information on it, or look for it in the post office. She’s actually told me I was lying and refused to look at my phone to see that they did, in fact, check the package in. This doesn’t surprise since the one time there was a package with my name on it sitting two feet to the right of her and she refused to give it to me, saying it wasn’t my package, though I could clearly see my name on it, and then sent it back to the shipper.

With no help from her, I go to Fedex down the road, they print out all the necessary paperwork saying that yes, it was checked into our post office, and I take the paperwork back to the post office, where I’m still met with disdain and the lack of help. A few days later the package mysteriously turns up at my house, badly repackaged and re-taped, missing any packing materials and receipts. I’m not saying our post office workers are stealing my packages, holding onto them, lying to me about it, and then, when I get all up in their grill, putting them into a box and delivering them…oh wait, yes I am. And from the way the postmaster acts when I try to retrieve a package that I know is there, I’m also accusing her. Nothing gets done about it and I get to lather, rinse and repeat this cycle often since the higher ups still don’t get that she’s the problem and she will not help me when this happens. She also seems to have no shame about the fact that this keeps happening and I have to keep going over there when my packages don’t show up after five days or a week. I’m fair. I give them time to deliver it before I go over there. They just don’t deliver it, is the problem.

It’s only certain things that go missing. Stuff that comes from pet supply places I typically get. Stuff from Amazon, depending on the size of the box, I occasionally get, however, I’ve switched to Prime to avoid my packages having to go through the post office. Things from Kohl’s packaged in shipping bags I get. Things packed in boxes, I don’t. Anything from Wal-Mart is sure to go missing. I’m wondering if my order from Shoe Dazzle will too. I’ll know tomorrow or the next day.

But you know the one thing they never, ever, ever take? Books. My books come one by one, as I order them from different sellers used from Amazon. They always come in paper mailers and it’s obvious they’re books. With having ordered over twenty five books, not one has ever gone missing. This says everything about why our postal service is going bankrupt.

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